Sometimes I don't start things because I think I have waited too long. I feel compelled to tell the story from start to end and if I didn't start when I was "supposed to," I don't want to start at all. I am slowly beginning to realize that life is not linear and that maybe the beginning and the end are not so important after all. I am starting to consider the notion that maybe it is the million and one little mundane middles that truly make up a life
So here I am starting in a middle. Grayson is nine and a half months old and this is my first post! Whew, glad that admission is over. I know, he is a baby for god's sake. In truth there really isn't anything all that original or monumental that I failed to chronicle. He was born, he cried, he ate, he spit up. I was tired. I felt fat. I felt unprepared. I wondered what I had signed up for and if I would ever eat dinner with my husband again. I wondered why we didn't get another dog and call it good. In other words, I was busy living the beginning with a newborn. I am sure you can understand why I failed to also chronicle it in writing!
Let me back up a minute. Yes, yes, yes, I did feel that burst of insane love and joy when Grayson was first born. I felt an undeniable connection and was blissfully happy for about 16 hours. Then the Oxytocin plummeted and I quickly realized that the baby that I ordered (you know the one who breastfeeds every four hours for 10 minutes on each side and then naps and looks cute in his clothes), got somehow switched at birth. You see, the baby I brought home didn't want to wait for the "milk to drop," didn't like the "slow flow," and wanted to eat about every 50 minutes. He did not get the memo about napping and seemed to be allergic to every outfit we put on him. On top of all that, the baby I brought home had the nerve to frown at me on a regular basis.
Hold on a second (step away from the phone that is on auto dial to Child Protective Services), of course, I still loved him. However, liking him during that time was an entirely different matter. I felt a mess. I felt completely out of control and totally inept at the mommy thing. I felt bad about feeling bad because I had wanted him with all my heart and had gone to great lengths to have him. Bottom line was that my bad feelings had bad feelings and then some! What I didn't know then and what very few mom's will tell you, is that all those feelings were totally normal. (Thank god for my mommy's group....you ladies know who you are. You saved my sanity and my relationship with my husband and my child!!)
Now that I am thinking I am an old pro and all, I will tell you that with the first baby, there is no concept of time and absolutely no understanding that things eventually change. Personally, I had absolutely no idea that the things I was going through as a first time mommy were really just tiny little phases, blips on the radar, and that they would pass (for sure, pinky promise). Let me tell you the relief and elation I experienced, albeit in retrospect when I finally "figured" this out! Now I understand how moms are so chill with number two and three and in some cases (sorry Octo Mom) eight. Those second timers know "the secret." They in fact have already paid their dues in the club of uncertainty and are just biding their time until the rough patch passes. Now when I see a mama and her two day old baby power shopping at the Macy's everything is always on sale sale (even though you must save those ridiculous and annoying additional 25% off coupons), I flash her a knowing grin as we secretly exchange the members only nods of understanding.....if this too shall pass, it might as well pass in a new pair of shoes that are 25% off of 10% off of the, take an additional 40% off (if you use your ridiculous Macy's card) price.
Alas, I digressed. No shock there huh? I was talking about middles. My true middle arrived when I fell in love and in like with Grayson. This started to happen right around the four month mark. (Read into it whatever you want, but this was also about the time that I switched from exclusively breastfeeding every 50 minutes of every day, to giving the little monkey a bottle). This is where our story together really begins. While I don't have a ninja type memory of the moment we fell in love, I do remember several Oprah style "ah ha moments." There was the time when I was feeding Grayson on the couch, probably watching Judge Judy (I know, there is no amount of postpartum depression that can justify watching that show) and felt overcome with an intense sense of awe, appreciation and yes, LOVE. There was the day that I realized that not only had the little bug stopped frowning at me but that he had also started smiling. There was the sound of his first giggle and the feel of his first open mouth kiss. There was the realization that if I allowed myself a moment to go away, that I would realize that there was nowhere else I would rather be. Don't worry, I am not going to sum things up by saying, "And we lived happily ever after, the end." No way, instead, I am going to tell you that it was right around that time that I realized the magnitude of the situation. Everything just sort of clicked and I knew deep down in my bones that things were going to be even better then okay. I was struck and even kind of shocked by the realization that he belonged to me and that I belonged to him. It seemed to hit me that for better and for worse we would always be inextricably linked together as mother and son. Okay, you are probably like, yah, duh! I know, it is hard to explain and I don' t think I am doing the experience justice. Just take it like this, I got it. I realized that my life as I knew it, was in fact, over, but that our life together, had just begun.
XOXOXOXOXO K
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