Motherhood Lately

Amelia is about 9 days away from turning 8 months old.

And where the hell that time went, I have absolutely no idea.

When she was first born, and really until she was about 4 1/2 months old, time could not have gone slower. As I've written about previously, she was very colicky, and with the specter of postpartum depression hanging over my head and the anxiety of being thrown into motherhood...let's just say it was a tough fourth trimester.

Everyone told me that it'd get easier, that it'd get better, that I'd forget the absolute drudgery of that time. I'm not far enough away from it to forget it (some days I think it's actually worse in my memory than it was in reality), but I can finally report that it did, in fact, get better.

At 7 1/2 months old, Amelia is bright, aware, engaging, communicative. She reaches both for me and for Rob, eats whatever we shovel into her mouth, doesn't (always) scream when I leave the room, is back to sleeping through the night in her own bed (knock on wood), is working toward crawling and walking simultaneously. She is still fussier than a lot of babies, but generally only when she's tired, lonely, hungry, or wakes up from a nap too early. If there is such a thing as an introverted baby, she is one; when we go somewhere new or when someone new comes to us, her fussiness ramps up a bit and she requires a fair amount of "recharge" time. Sometimes I worry that she is this way because in her first months we didn't go many places or meet new people, but either way it is how she is and we are learning to adapt to meet her needs. A lot of our day is still spent pulling her back from the brink of misery (for all involved) but it's about a thousand times less unpleasant than it was in her first few months.

I suppose that along with her evening out, we have gotten a lot better too. We are more used to her ups and her downs, we know what works and what doesn't, and we learn more about each other every second of every day. Before she was born I always thought there'd be a point at which we felt like we had the basics down and had a good flow; I've realized, though, that this point doesn't really exist at least in the way that I had expected. It might be that my baby is uniquely difficult, but it seems that she never has one habit for too long and as soon as we get accustomed to her she flips the tables on us.  The most recent example is that she was napping only in the carrier for months, and now putting her into the carrier launches a massive screaming fit. At the current moment I can only get her to nap in our bed with me there, and it takes a lot of fighting and nursing to make that happen. Another example is that she was almost 100% weaned onto formula for several weeks only to give up and refuse bottles in favor of breastfeeding again. It's taken awhile for my milk supply to respond to "unweaning" but I think we're in a good place. At this point I might just nurse forever for how well it works toward getting her to sleep.

This is one thing I would convey to expecting mothers from my experience: plan away if it helps you, but be ready for near-constant change. Don't internalize it, because it probably isn't your fault. Babies are terrible.

Aside from all that (or maybe partially because of it) motherhood is as amazing and beautiful. I don't know why I feel the need to clarify to the world that I love my kid--it should be a given--but I share a lot of the tough stuff so there's some positive for you too.

Happy week, friends!

What Parenthood Looks Like

I find that when it comes to motherhood, there are two general narratives you find online.

The first is of the mother that has everything together (or at least appears to), who has the Pinterest-worthy nursery and birthday parties, who speaks glowingly about every single phase of a child's life as being truly magical.  This mother inexplicably has white walls and light-colored carpets, always has the laundry done and makes her own baby food.  Even when this mom "keeps it simple" the result could still feasibly be its own magazine cover. She also probably cloth diapers and talks about how much easier it is (convinced this is a lie).

The second is an opposing vision: this mother loves her children as well, but neglects her significant other. She wears crusty, stained yoga pants, her hair hasn't seen shampoo in weeks. This mother defines her parenting style by the absence, rather than the presence, of overachievement. As proud of the other mother is of her parties and her nursery, this mom is just as proud of the fact that her children ate cereal for dinner while she drank her wine.

At this point I will say that I am not suggesting that either of these parents loves their child more or less than the other; indeed, though you find plenty of examples of both these narratives on the internet, I don't think either tell the entire picture.

The plunge into parenthood is fraught with as much guilt and insecurity as it is with joy and amazement. that much any parent will tell you.  With mothers in particular (in a biased, heternormative sense as that is my experience) I think many find it easier to express the push and pull in extremes, such as the extreme examples above.  This doesn't leave a lot of room for the grey areas into which most people fall. If there's one thing I've learned about parenting over the last 5.5 months, it's that you'll often find yourself immersed (submerged? drowning?) in nuance and grey areas.

All that said, I thought I'd share with you what parenting, and more specifically motherhood, look like for me--equal parts overachievement and "just getting by."

• No matter in which direction I look, there is at least one baby-related item in my periphery. 
• Spending an additional .50 on the "nice" baby food jars to compensate for the guilt of not making my own healthy baby food.
• Trying the Ferber method, then trying full-time cosleeping. Mixed results with both.
• Making sure the plastic toys I buy are BPA and phthalate free despite the fact that I can't tell you with any certainty exactly what BPA or phthalates are.
• Breastfeeding exclusively except for the odd bottle of formula to get a break.
• Babywearing, not for its supposed benefits but because it's the only way my baby naps that still allows me to get work done.
• I could not care less about the decor or cake for Amelia's first birthday.
• In a fit of exhaustion I might've told Amelia I'd sell her to the circus. 

So there you go. Parenthood. At least my kid should develop a good sense of humor out of all this.