Guilt and Worry...Worry and Guilt

I stayed home from work today.  This has been a rough week in my house, and I missed work the past two days as well.  Let me try and explain how physically and emotionally exhausting it is to care for an infant while you yourself feel like you are going to die.  Imagine the hardest thing you have ever had to do.  Maybe it was participating in a triathlon, or something similar.  Now imagine doing it while you are exhausted, and then repeating it for 10 days straight.  Ok now imagine doing it again, but this time while you are sick.  The sick that normally leaves you laid up in bed with no contact with the outside world for at least 48 hours.  I will tell you, no matter how physically sick you are, it doesn't compare to the sickness you feel in your stomach thinking your little one could end up feeling this way.  I thought my biggest worry of the week had come true last night, I thought my son was getting this awful stomach bug.
Normally he is up at 8:00 am like clockwork, but we had a pretty long night.  There was a bit of crying, a terrible diaper before bed time, and I swear if my neighbors didn't hear his gas, they had to have smelled it.  So this morning around 8:20 am, while he was sleeping on my chest better than he had slept all night, I finally decided to let my boss know I was going to stay home again today.  I wanted to be home with him if he was going to go through this, but I also wasn't feeling too hot after being up all night.  He woke up around 8:50 am and we came into the living room for our morning "bites".  After I fed him he played for a little while.  I watched him as he played, and I thought to myself, maybe it was just something he ate and he will be fine.  Maybe I should go on into work.  After all, I'm pretty sure this will use my last sick day, and if I get ready now I'll be less than two hours late.  As for me?  I have a slight headache and I've only gone to the bathroom three times this morning.  I doubt I'm even contagious anymore.  But what does any of this have to do with me?

This is where it gets hard.
The guilt...he already knows we're in routine for him to be spending the day with mommy.  What if I break his heart by leaving him now.  I know it will break mine.  How do I give up a day with him that I have already been given permission to have?  Voluntarily...by deciding to go into work.
The worry...It is my fault that this may be my last sick day.  I could have gone to work when my three month old had his first cold (1 day).  I could have gone to work, and waited on a phone call while my dad was in the hospital (2 days).  The rash my son had a couple weeks ago turned out to just be eczema, it could have waited rather than taking time off work to take him to the doctor (1/2 day).  I only get 6 days a year.  One of the last two days I asked for in advance, so it didn't count as a sick day.  The other day and today will.  That is 5 1/2 days.   It is May.  I don't worry about me getting sick, I worry about him.
The worry...What if something happens or he gets sick?  We have to go through a whole half of winter season!  What if I start to leave for work one day when he's not feeling well as a small toddler, so he clings to me?  I know I won't be able to leave him.  I know I won't.  So I know I will get in trouble at work, because I have used all 6 of my sick days.
The guilt...I shouldn't have to worry about anything but him.  He should be my only priority, and if I want to be able to comfortably stay home with him today just in case he needs extra snuggles, I should be able to do that.

Then I pick him up and he curls his little legs up to me and sinks his head into my chest...yea, mommy is not going anywhere today.  

This is not the only time I have felt an extreme amount of guilt or worry over something that may have otherwise seemed manageable.  For example, the first day I was sick, as hard as it was on me I kept him with me.  I didn't even ask anyone to come and help because I knew that would be my only day off with him for another week.  Plus I had just given up a day with him to clean the house less than a week ago.  So I sucked it up, and I took care of him myself (at this point I thought I had ate something, never would have thought I could be contagious). As hard as it was on me, it was easier than handling the guilt of not spending the day with him.

I can't handle seeing or hearing anything about a child who is sick.  Not sick like get better sick, sick like big time sick.  I do not know how mothers handle that, and my heart aches for them.  When I look into the eyes of those children, I see the innocence of my son looking back at me.  I worry constantly.  What is this bump?  Has he peed enough? Is he peeing too much?  Should his poop look like that?  Is this normal?  My husband would tell me not to.  He would tell me, "The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit" (Proverbs 18:21).  And I completely agree, so I am ever so careful not to think or speak the worst.  But then I worry what if my faith leads me to denial.  Maybe I worry because the enemy is trying to make me think my faith will lead me to denial.  Or maybe, just maybe I worry,

because motherhood.

A Name

I mentioned before that I had thought a lot about a name for this blog.  I probably would have started it two months ago, but I didn't like any of the names that came to my mind.  I wanted something catchy, but to the point.  I wanted it to be something people would remember.  I wanted it to make an impact at first impression.  It needed to explain a lot in a few simple words.  Things I considered were "Unexpected Motherhood", "Definition of Motherhood", and "To Parenthood and Beyond" (yes this came from a Toy Story reference).  None of these names summarized my feelings, and well, they're pretty corny.  How do I say something in a few short words, that I am struggling to say with unlimited words?

I took our son to my grandparents yesterday so I could get my house clean. That was the first time I have done anything like that.  Other than work, a couple date nights, and one whole day of not being able to open my eyes (long story), he has been with me.  I have said to myself several times, "my house is a mess but my kid is super happy."  I'll say it while I take a deep breathe, as reassurance that it is ok my house is a mess.   And it is, because he is more important.   I also came across a poem one day, and it stuck with me...

So true.  On the rare occasion I do get a few extra minutes to get some stuff done, all I can do is spin around in circles thinking about everything I need to do.  By the time I stop spinning, my extra time is up.  But that's not the kind of stuff I'm talking about when I talk about this all being harder than I expected.  I expected that stuff to be hard.  The physical part is exhausting sometimes, but manageable.  

I'm talking about the asking for help part.  Everyone tells you not to be afraid to ask for help after you have had a baby.  So why don't we?  The problem is by help, they mean them keeping your child for a while so you can get other stuff done.  I don't want other people to keep my child.  It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that...well...I want someone to do everything else, so I can spend every waking minute gawking over this amazing little person that my husband and I have created.  Besides, what if they don't feed him the right amount at the right time, or what if they don't know the difference between a hurt cry and a tired cry, or what if they get frustrated with him?  I have several sitters lined up for when we need one.  Most of them would do it for free.  But I'm already away from him 40+ hours a week with work, there is no way I am lightly sparing any of my mommy baby time.  So yesterday, I cleaned my heart out.  I was not going to let one minute away from my precious baby go to waste.  Did I get a lot done?  Yes.  Did it feel good?  Felt great.  Will I do it again? Maybe in seven months or so.  

Back to the name.  I had decided I would post an introduction to the blog and call it "I Need a Name".  I would share it with friends and family, and see what they suggested.  So I sat down at my computer and went on to learn how to start the blog.  I quickly figured out that idea was not going to work.  I needed to create a domain, and I wanted the domain to contain the title.  So I called my husband in the room.  I had told him my ideas and why I wanted to start a blog earlier in the day, so he already knew the point I was trying to get across.  We brainstormed through a few things like "Where is my manual", "Power of the Tiny Humans", and "Upside Down Mommy" (I really liked this one, but I didn't want people to think I'm crazy.  I may be crazy, but I still don't want people to think it).  As you can see, the titles had more of a humorous take when we were brainstorming together.  That's pretty much how we roll.  And then he said it.  And I loved it.

For those that don't know, we are car people.  We also have a lot of car people friends.  We are both in agreement we will train our son to be a famous race car driver so we can retire early (Formula 1, not nascar.  Just so there isn't any confusion). There is an internet joke that goes around.  It uses funny phrases and situations to highlight how awesome race cars are.  

That is why when he said the title I immediately knew it was perfect.  Somewhat humorous, but to the point and very matter of fact. 

Being the type of person I am, I had to make sure the title would make sense.  So I googled the definition of motherhood...

the kinship relation between an offspring and the mother

 ...and then I googled the definition of kinship...

Blood relationship.

A sharing of characteristics or origins.

THAT'S IT?  Motherhood is defined as the blood relationship between my son and I, and the sharing of our genes?  Who writes this stuff??  Are they a mother?  Any mother knows there is so much more than the sharing of blood and genes.  What about the love?  So I have come up with a much more appropriate definition of motherhood.  

A euphoric state that makes a woman be able to handle

physical and emotional situations which would otherwise be impossible.

An overwhelming mixture of nurturing, joy, happiness, worry, guilt and many

other emotions that take over a woman's spirit after she has a child.  

Because motherhood. 

Am I doing this right?

Ok here we go....

So I decided to start a blog.  I've been thinking about it for months.  I remember the exact moment that I first thought about it.  I have prayed about it, thought mostly about what I would name it, and finally mentioned it to my husband.  His response is what made me decide to just do it.  I thought he would make fun of me, but instead he seemed interested, and encouraged me that what I have to say might actually be interesting.  This is not a blog about recipes, how to lose weight or eat healthy and 100% organic, or how to clean your whole house with a potato and bottle of lemon juice.  You won't find any coupon links or freebies on here. Nothing like that.  This blog is about the wonderful, fascinating, hard, emotional, exhausting, and overwhelming realities that smacked me in the face when I became a mother 7 months, 1 week, and 1 day ago.  If I took more time, I could come up with a lot more than six words to describe these realities.

Back to the exact moment.  I was having a conversation with one of my best friends.  She gave birth to a little boy about 9 months before me.  We went through trying to get pregnant together.  She found out she was pregnant May of 2011.  We had both been trying for about 6 months at that point.  During her pregnancy, she told me she thought I would get pregnant first.  She thought I would go through the entire pregnancy and give birth, and then she would get pregnant.  It happened the exact opposite.  She gave birth January of 2012, and I found out I was pregnant in February 2012. I was actually pregnant while she was in the hospital having her son, but only a couple of weeks along.  
My friend and I both had a lot of experience taking care of children before we decided to start trying to have our own.  She even ran an in home day care.  We both knew exactly what to do with our own baby.  We knew everything about taking care of tiny humans.  We knew all the baby gadgets we needed and wanted.  We knew more than most moms.  We knew exactly how things would go, and didn't need help from anyone.  We had it all figured out.  Or did we?  Now I don't want to sound like a bad mother, and I don't want to make her sound like one either.  She is an amazing mother!  And my kid is still alive and smiles a lot, so I can't be doing too bad either.  We have talked a lot about our children, and finally one night we swallowed our pride and said it...this is hard.  It's really hard.  Not hard in a wish-we-hadn't-done-it kind of way, but hard in a holy-crap-how-do-people-have-more-than-one kind of way.  It's not what either of us expected, to say the least.

So we were great at taking care of the little people before we had our own. What makes this different?  That is what this blog will be about.  The emotions, the trials that no one talks about, the stuff that is hard to explain of motherhood.  I have thought a lot about why this is hard for us, but seems so easy for so many other women.  I have wondered if that makes us bad mothers, or if that makes us great mothers.  Is it that we wanted these little people so bad, that we feel like we have to give every inch of our all to make them perfect???  Kind of.  But do all mother's not feel that way?  Is it easier for them than it is for us?  What I am finding out is that, no, it's not, but no one talks about it.  If we talked about it, that might make us bad mothers.

  But just look at that smile!  I have to be doing

something right...right?

People talk about the love you will have for your child.  How there is nothing else like it.  They try to explain it, but really they can't.  I use to say,  "I love my nephew so much, I can't imagine how much I will love my own child."  And I couldn't. If you're not a parent, you can't.  No one can tell you, or prepare you.  Not just for the love part, but for the whole entire motherhood experience.  So basically I am writing a blog about something that can't be put into words.  Got it?  Good, lets move on.

A few of my thoughts around why I feel like this is so much harder than I expected.  First, when you are taking care of someone else's child, it is easier to know what they want.  Crazy, I know...that's what I'm talking about here.  When I would babysit for a friend, or keep my nephew,  I was confident in my responsibilities of caring for them.  I had them figured out.  For example, I could never quite figure out why my nephew's mother (who, even though we don't speak any more, holds a very dear place in my heart) would not just let him cry for a few minutes until he fell asleep.  When I would keep him, I would lay him down, he would cry for 10 minutes or so, and then was out for the night (of course she never asked me not to do this).  When she would stay the night with me with him, she would run in at every sound.  If he didn't want to go to sleep, she would get him back up.  I thought, what child wants to go to sleep?  He needs to know its bed time...MAKE him go to bed.  I get it now.  It's hard.  Letting your child cry is hard.  You think of things with your own child that you don't consider when it is someone else's child.  Are they hungry? Do their teeth hurt?  What if they have a headache?  Is he hot?  Is he cold?  Am I going to scar him so bad emotionally, by letting him cry for a few minutes, that he will never be able to function as a productive member of society?  Ok...I'm going in to get him.  Those are the questions you ask yourself outside of the unbearable stabbing pain you get directly in your heart every time you hear that little yelp.  

I am part of an amazing group of women that found each other in the beginning of our pregnancies on a pregnancy forum.  I have learned so much from them, and we have all became great friends.  I turned to them during my pregnancy, and I still turn to them almost daily when something is over my new mother head.  We have created a group on facebook, and we chat daily.  I will probably refer to them a lot throughout this blog, so I am just going to refer to them how I normally do anytime they come up in my conversations, "my pregnancy group".  Seriously, I don't know if I would have made it this far without them. 

So the morale to the story (or the morale to the creation of the blog, or just why I am creating the blog, whatever) is this...      One of the girls in my group had twins.  She had posted a picture of her two boys, within a month's age of my son, on our group page.  I commented on there and said something along the lines of "I don't know how you do it."  And I really don't know how she does it.  Most of the time I feel like I'm sinking in a never ending land of diapers, bottles, breast feeding, poop, and all other things baby with just one.  She responded to me and told me she didn't know how she did it either.  She said that people asked her often and all she could say was that she had to, because she was their mom.  That is so true.  I love my son.  He is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.  I love being a mother.  I said for years before I had a child that I felt like God sent me here to be a mom.  Having my son just confirmed that for me.  So why is it so hard?  I don't know.  Will I ever figure it all out?  I doubt it.  Will my friend and I grow perfectly good humans who will turn out to be good people?  We'll see. But rest assured as I travel on my journey to figure it all out, I will post it here.  I will also continue to thrive daily in my mission to be the best mother God could have chosen for my son.  I will swallow the nervous lumps in my throat and ignore the "am I doing this right" questions in my head and life will go on.  Why?

Because motherhood.