Being on the “other side” is nothing like I had expected.
It’s a million times more exhausting than I anticipated. Often in the evenings and late nights I watch as my husband, and Crosby, snooze while I finish cleaning up from a nursing session, or finish pumping (which only occurs 1-2x a day). I watch with jealousy and on occasion resentment- sometimes uttering negativity under my breath. Usually along the lines of how nice that looks and he’s sleeping to rub it in my face- I’m sure of it… I never truly mean it, but after exceptionally long days the taming of my mind and tongue falter. In a moment of weakness after he’d asked what he could do I mumbled hsrshly- nothing! Because you don’t have the boobs!
Often times I have a load or two of laundry full of spit up clothes or clothes to be folded and put away (both mine, the husbands and Crosby’s) or a quick snack or meal needing to be inhaled before nursing begins again. I’m realizing how lonely and isolating and exhausting a newborn is.
I desire so bad to leave the house, but as a first time mom still perfecting our breastfeeding skills (that we practice every 2 short hours) it’s more of a stress. By the time we’re walking out the door the alarm of a sweet cry tells me it’s time to eat again. Then the routine starts back at square one.
Now I don’t say any of this to complain- I wanted this- I chose this- believe it or not, most days I love it! We’ve just been blessed with a fabulously fussy baby who eats incredibly often and loves to cluster feed at night. This makes for one super sleep deprived momma. Top it off with the (seemingly) normal worries of a first time mom- is he getting enough to eat, is he gaining, is he having the suggested dirty/wet diapers per day, how do I know what he really needs with each squeak and squak and whimper and cry… Am I doing this right, why does this hurt, how do I fix that?…. I’m pretty insecure but, maybe we all are at first?
More often than not you’ll find Crosby and I rocking out to our favorite worship tunes, usually around 1am – and on occasion you’ll see that I’m accompanied by tears and sniffing as I weep at my weakness and my pleas to the Lord. My begging for increased supply, weight gain in Little C, sleep, begging for Him to reassure me of my shortcomings or asking for more guidance.
So as I watch each hour pass and I still have a wide-eyed baby nestled into my chest, I’m thankful. I’m exhausted. I’m lonely. Oh my goodness am I lonely. In an age where we have everything we can think of needing/wanting on a tiny little device (iphones, smart phones, iPads, etc) conversation is less and my interaction with the outside world is through social media or text messages. It’s depressing. Usually by the time my husband comes home he’s so wiped out I feel bad that I wanna chat his ear off about naps, breastmilk, spit up… Cause that’s my day. I don’t have anything interesting to discuss….yet!
I can clearly see the presence of God in this season, I can clearly see the work and refinement of ME in this new season. I know it will be fruitful. I know that it will be as He has planned. I know that He will be faithful, just as he’s been faithful through so many other seasons.
Of this I’m certain, as I stay in His presence, I can do this. I can be confident that He will provided, that my flesh will be sustained. That His presence will fill the lonely hole and my heavy eyes will be supplied with the type of rest only He can provide.
Being on the other side is hard, but then I see that cute face and I melt.. I can do this.