Advice to new mothers
“You don’t know how hard this is!” I’d bark at my husband, “You have it SO much easier than I do!”
Raising my new baby was hard work. Too hard. I remember having some pretty serious anxiety when faced with the fact that my husband was eventually going to have to go back to work and eventually I was going to be alone with our baby every day.
She wasn’t easy. I would pace with her for hours at night to get her to sleep and I’m not sure how long her naps were, but I remember feeling like they were never long enough.
My nerves were shot.
Pat once came home from a long night of work and as he was fixing himself dinner in the kitchen I hissed, “DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO LOUD!?! I’ve been working all NIGHT to get her to sleep and your disregard for that work shows you don’t respect me or the job I do taking care of her!!!”
To be clear, Pat wasn’t slamming anything…he just wasn’t shutting drawers and laying silverware on the counter in slow motion like I did when the baby was sleeping. A dropped spoon could wake her up and then I’d have to stop everything, go BACK up the stairs and soothe her back to sleep.
My job was never over.
Pat and I argued over who worked harder. I’d get really angry. He just didn’t understand what went into raising a baby.
I remember feeling furious as I struggled to spoon the sour cream into what was going to be the filling for our enchiladas one night. Maile was refusing to nap and I just HAD to finish prepping dinner. I juggled her from one hip to the other as I slopped sour cream and salsa into the dish and all over the counter.
She wasn’t having it though. She cried and squirmed and I finally put her down to roll tortillas only to be met with more protesting and screaming from my cherub. I allowed her to scream while I finished and then cried with her after I stuffed the food into the oven.
If I could go back I would place my hands square on my own shoulders and I would say dude. it’s not going to get easier than this, chill out, enjoy your baby…and order a pizza.