First Night of Motherhood

Let me tell you what no one really talks about.. that first night home. And if they do talk about it-well they don't share any details--or at least, they didn't to me.

Lydia was born late Monday afternoon and that first night in the hospital she stayed part of it in the nursery so that we could try to catch some sleep. The next day was a whirl of visitors, paperwork, and information overload. I mean seriously-I feel like there are so many nurses and consultants and doctors and hospital managers in and out giving information I am surprised I came out of there with my head on.

The hospital wanted to keep us until Wednesday but when they gave us the option of going home Tuesday we took it.

Tuesday night: Leaving the hospital we were surprised at how cold the weather had changed. We were not wearing appropriate clothes-nor did we have a blanket for Lydia. We pretty much blasted the heat the whole way home. We were both pretty giddy as we pulled up to our town home. Brian grabbed the stuff and I grabbed the baby. Once inside it felt so odd to be standing in this place I have shared with Brian for the past 2 years and to now be holding someone new to share it with.

We had borrowed a bassinet from our friends and before we got ready for bed-we bundled our little munchkin up and laid her in it. I wish we could have hidden a video camera because Brian and I were being cautiously giddy. As we got ready for bed, we were whispering and kept peeking in on her sleeping-you know, in case she just disappeared or something. #goofynewparents

Into bed we went and Brian quickly fell asleep. I laid there and listened to them both breathing-feeling very content with my life and thanking my Father in Heaven for my sweet family.

And then...

Lydia woke up to eat around 1:15. I rolled over, picked her up, tried to scoot so my back could rest against the wall (which for the first week was the hardest to do with everything that happened down in that area). I fed her and laid her back in her bassinet about 30-40 minutes later.

I hadn't gotten myself back to sleep when at 2:20 she was awake again. I grabbed her, fed her, laid her back in her bassinet. Both of these feedings I was trying to do in the most quiet way possible-I didn't want to wake Brian because I knew he had class the next morning.

It was at this point that the night went a little haywire for me. She started to really fuss and I just kept trying to feed her. My milk hadn't come in yet and so I just wasn't sure if she was feeling full. Every time I put her back in her bassinet she would get really upset. I had her swaddled and eventually I just took her out of it because she seemed to really want her arms by her face.

I laid in bed and gently rocked her in my arms. I tried to think of what I was doing wrong. I had, had this "ideal" situation in my head of us coming home from the hospital to a beautifully clean house. We would climb into our pristine sheets and fluffy pillows with my darling infant beside me. We would all fall asleep smoothly and one time in the night the child would wake with a slight coo. My "mother's instinct" would kick in and I would gently feed her, change her diaper and lay her back in her bassinet asleep. I would then climb back into bed and snuggle up next to my husband and we would sleep the rest of the night that way. Wake in the morning, with smiles on our faces, fully rested and pick up our happy baby and proceed to have our first breakfast altogether-as one happy family.

Okay.. so maybe I didn't expect it to go exactly like that.. but I most definitely didn't think that I'd be so unsure of what I was doing! I at least thought I'd get a little bit of sleep.

After an hour of trying to get her back to sleep with no success, I just grabbed her and laid her next to me in bed. She fell asleep-for about 8 minutes.. and then-she spit up.. A LOT.

I jumped up and grabbed a blanket to wipe it up.. beating myself up for not thinking to have burped her. You think I would have realized but as I thought about it-not once was it mentioned in the hospital. Not once was I told a proper way to burp or how long or anything at all. I was bombarded with so much information on how to breastfeed and help the baby latch and all that-but nothing on burping.

I'm not blaming the hospital or anything-but as a new mom, I just hadn't thought I would need to burp her when I wasn't even feeding her milk yet.

Anyway-I cleaned it up but she was still fussy. Still not trying to wake Brian, I crawled out of bed with the baby (Also not trying to bust a stitch or anything) and walked into her room to rock her a bit.

As I did this-all of the sudden I had to go to the bathroom.. and I had to go right then. I tried to run into the bedroom and put the baby in the bassinet, praying she wasn't going to scream and wake up Brian and then dash back to the bathroom.. only..  I didn't make it.

So there I was.. with a crying baby, exhausted, tired, sore, bleeding, and I had just wet my pants.

I felt the tingle of tears in my eyes and the quiver of my bottom lip, but I bit my tongue-- Determined to do this whole "mother" thing with no complaints. I went into the bathroom and quickly cleaned myself off-which for those who don't know, the word "quick" is not in a newly delivered mother's vocabulary (unless a mother hears her baby's cry and then it's as if she is a runner in the Olympics-boy can we women move in times like that).

Back in the bedroom, I have now changed Lydia twice (one poopy diaper and one really full wet diaper) -I found myself holding Lydia again. Trying to console her to sleep and she is just crying and fussing. I don't even remember the exact time at this point-just that it is almost 5 in the morning.

I looked down at the crying infant in my arms as I tried to tell her, "sweetheart, I'm trying to help you.. I don't know what's wrong. Tell me what's wrong. Please. I love you. I want to help" I sat there-trying to wipe her tears away and tell her that I loved her..

And all of the sudden I realized it was my own tears on her face-not hers. And as I realized that, I started to cry harder. All my exhaustion and pain came out in that moment, I felt very degraded that I couldn't even stop myself from wetting my pants, and that I couldn't even console my daughter. I kept thinking "Some mother you've turned out to be" which of course-just made me cry harder.

This time-Brian did wake up.. He woke up to both his girls crying.

He asked, "Sweetheart.. are you crying?" And that made me really start to cry. Now my plan to not wake him up so he could sleep wouldn't work. And I was turning out to be a poopy mom-I mean, the first night back I couldn't even keep it together and take care of my baby!

He sat up in bed, gently rubbed my back and then took Lydia from my arms. He said he would take her while I tried to get some sleep. Out he went to rock her a bit.

So there you have it. My first "official" night as a mother at home.

I know that not every situation is like this one. Some are worse.. and some are much much better. I just figured.. why try to pretend that motherhood came completely natural to me?

I have since learned that there are many parts of motherhood that do come natural and some that may come easier to some and not others. The love I have for my daughter helps me to keep trying until something works. So much of it is trial and error and just down right trying to do your very best.

I believe that Heavenly Father is aware of our efforts and blesses and guides us through the challenges. "There's no perfect way to be a good mother and a million ways to be a good one." -Jill Churchill.

   "There is no one perfect way to be a good mother. Each situation is unique. Each mother has different challenges, different skills and abilities, and certainly different children. The choice is different and unique for each mother and each family. What matters is that a mother loves her children deeply and, in keeping with the devotion she has for God and her husband, prioritizes them above all else. 
   Recognize that the joy of motherhood comes in moments. There will be hard times and frustrating times. But amid the challenges, there are shining moments of joy and satisfaction."

-M. Russell Ballard