Well here I am. I didn’t mean to take a sabbatical from my blogging but something came between us. What, you ask? Motherhood. That’s what.
Here I sit typing this post with a sleeping baby (a very beautiful, peaceful sleeping baby) wrapped tight to my chest in a mobby wrap. For days I’ve intended to write this post; weeks even, but up until today I never could quite convince myself to waste my “free time” on a blog post. Today, though I’ve eaten, showered, neatened house, and decided dishes can wait; I’ll write that post. I’ll let the world know that my baby has arrived.
The waiting ended at 2 AM Saturday the 14th. Or maybe that’s when it really began? I got out of bed to go pee and my water broke as soon as my feet hit the floor. It wasn’t until 26 hours, lots of contractions, a few ‘I’m going to die’ moments, and the glorious couple of hours of pushing later that our darling baby arrived. Honestly the whole time seemed to just disappear for me. One day of my life *poof* disappeared. Vanished. Gone. Only the wee hours of Sunday morning stick in my mind. The time when I knew I was indeed getting somewhere.
So world, here is my baby, sweet little Jerusha Ann Smith.
She joined us at 4:17 AM Sunday, March 15th, 2015 weighing 7lbs 13oz and 21”
I will spare you the detailed story of my labor and delivery because, well, I’m just going to assume you don’t care to hear it. If I’m wrong leave a comment and I’ll consider sharing.
Now here we are. Cautiously exploring the new status I have achieved. I count myself a mom from the day I became pregnant but being a mother of a baby on the inside and a mother to one on the outside are two entirely different things. Related, yes, but entirely different. You may have thought you weren’t able to get any rest while so uncomfortably pregnant but you don’t know how much you’re actually getting. Uncomfortably sleeping for 8 hours is actually sleeping. Sitting up in bed from 12:24 AM until 2:07 AM is not sleeping, and then again from 4:12 to 5:52. That’s how last night went for me. It’s not always that way, though, unfortunately. I say unfortunately because I’d take a night like that over this past Sunday’s any day. Getting up every 4ish hours is doable. Not getting to sleep until close to 2 AM because baby just isn’t tired and then getting up every 4 hours is much much harder. Take my word for it, or my husband’s who was the one who got her to sleep in the end and had to get up for work at 6.
Hard as that all seems to me it is still most definitely worth it. I would go through the 9 and a half months of pregnancy all over again, and relive these sleepless last few weeks if I had to in order to have her. Or any other baby in the future, for that matter. My younger sister insists she’s never having kids; its not worth the sickness of pregnancy, the discomfort involved, the out of shape state it leaves your body in, and then the sleepless, bedraggled state of new-momhood. But I’m here to tell you it is. Not that I expect you to believe me ;)
Furthermore: you may want to check in with me on that in about 15 or 16 years ;P
Holding this beautiful baby may be worth it but for any readers not yet a mom let me encourage you to cherish the free time you have because you may not always get to paint your nails whenever you feel like it. Someday you may have to decide if the baby will stay asleep long enough for you to get them painted and dried and you also may have to decide if painting your nails is something you should even devote free time to, isn’t that sink full of dishes priority? And you sure wont have enough time to paint nails, let them dry, and wash the dishes…
No, things won’t be the same for a very long time if ever but it is worth it. Scroll back up to that beautiful picture and try and tell me it’s not.
I’ve always hated the idea of “me time” it just seems so.. self centered and selfish but now I understand it a little better; a little differently than the mainstream idea of “me time” but a little better. You see, for me being able to grab a quick shower while Jerusha is sleeping is a luxury I consider me time, to be able to finish feeding her in time to rush to the bathroom before peeing on myself is me time, feeding her now as I one handedly finger peckingly type this (yes, she woke up and decided the mobby was no longer acceptable) is me time. So, spending the day at a spa, catching up with some girl friends for coffee, or going to the mall this weekend aren’t on my list of me time activities but I have learned to appreciate the me time of showering, using the bathroom, doing some house work, and writing in a way I never knew I would.
So, you without the baby, don’t take the everyday ease wherein you go pee whenever you need to for granted.