My SECOND first night of motherhood

You may recall my first night of motherhood.. You know, the wake up call that my expectations were a bit unrealistic.

Well, you think I would have learned..

But instead I thought.. "I've done this before. I know what I'm doing"

Any thought like that is usually just Heavenly Father's way of letting you know there are some future growing pains coming. 

So I should have known as soon as that thought came into my head.

But I went on my merry way and found out the hard way (but thankfully not as hard as my first night with Lydia).

The hospital stay was different this time.. Because I was confined to my bed the whole time and also because the staff considered me an "experienced" mother (since I had a child at home) the info they would give me usually went something like this: "Breastfeed your baby every 2-3 hours, but you already know that.." "You already know this but Your baby should have this many poopy and wet diapers." Etc

I left the hospital feeling like a champ! I already know this! I know what I'm doing! I am a pro!

Whoopdie-do straight to my head. Walking out to the car, my expectations were soaring even though I had tried to keep them in a harness!

What I was failed to be told and be reminded of.. Is that every single one of us is different.. Hence.. My babies are not going to be the same and the experiences we have once home are NOT going to be the same as before.

So here I am.. Driving home from the hospital.. Baby in the back and meeting my mother-in-law to pick up Lydia. 

I do not write posts like this to complain.. just simply to be honest and upfront. If there is anything I have learned about myself through the years.. it's that I set expectations for myself whether I mean to or not.. and these expectations often cause me to learn deep heart-felt and growing-pain kind of lessons.

My [unrealistic] expectations had been this: Drive home from the hospital, pick up Daughter #1 and laugh and talk the whole way home about how happy we are to be a family of 4. Walk into a sparkly clean home and let Daughter #1 and #2 "play" together on the floor while Mom showers and Dad makes dinner and takes care of the kids while Mom gets to take care of her needs. Then snuggle on the couch as a family and read books and watch a cartoon and eat the brownies that Dad made knowing Mom wanted to eat something sweet. Then put the kids in bed and go to bed ourselves with me getting up every 2-3 hours to feed the baby. (I had remembered from my first experience that it was about every 2-3 hours that I had, had to get up... I also remembered that I wanted to put the baby to sleep on her tummy instead of back and that I would take the baby into her own room if she was too fussy). I finally expected to wake up in the morning and have Brian take the kids so I could catch an extra hour of sleep before meeting the day.

Of course.. none of this happened.

Lydia was exhausted from playing hard at Grandma's and likely had, had little sleep and lots of sugar.

Needless to say, she was hyper and ornery at the same time. She was super excited to have the "baby" in the car, but curious on why she was there and where the heck mom and dad had been the last few days. So some pretty big emotions going on for this almost 2-year-old.

Once we pulled into the driveway, Brian grabbed Lydia, and I grabbed Adeline. Walking into the house this time wasn't weird at all. It felt natural.. like this should have been happening for ages.

But that is about where the 'natural' part ended.

Lydia started throwing a fit as we walked in the house. Brian (who hadn't gotten much sleep so he was very tired himself) got pretty mad at her for throwing the fit.

I found myself putting the baby down, and rushing to intervene and explain to Brian how Lydia was feeling and that we needed to be very sensitive and understanding.

He left to change his clothes while I put Lydia in the tub, fed the baby, started unpacking from the hospital, had to go to the bathroom myself and call to him to come get the baby... then dress, feed, and clean Lydia.

I thought to myself.. "I just had a baby.. not even 2 days ago. Where the heck is my husband and the help he is supposed to be giving me?"

The baby was crying because her feeding was cut short and Brian had put her down to answer a call.

I felt a small bubble of anger in my gut, but put on my big girl panties (no pun intended because after having a baby you wear granny panties for a while) and set to work.

After some time, Brian came back out and apologized that I was doing everything.

I think he expected me to say, "You're fine honey. I have this." but instead what he got was, "I am doing everything. Go change the baby's diaper."

That night I put Lydia down early because she was exhausted. I was feeling a tiny bit emotional because I hadn't even had the chance to shower and felt gross and so tired. Brian and I cleaned up and then went to bed ourselves around 8. I had set everything up in our room with a bassinet and the baby's room across the hall for an easy and comfortable first night at home.

I put Adeline in the bassinet and laid in bed. Brian fell asleep immediately and I found my eyes just closing when I heard Adeline cry.

Up.. grab the baby.. Feed her. Lay back down.

32 minutes later baby is crying, I'm quickly grabbing her so I don't wake Brian, feeding her.. back to her bassinet.

30 minutes later, Adeline's spitting up (Darn it.. forget about the whole burping thing AGAIN! So hard to remember when you still don't have your milk in!). I take her into her room to clean her up, feed her, BURP her, and back to my bedroom to sleep.

27 minutes later I give up on the bassinet, feed her, put her in the crib, and back to the bedroom to finally fall asleep.

My night went on like this for a good 5-6 hours.

I found myself setting the baby down in her crib and sitting in the rocking chair for 10 minutes of sleep or whatever I could get.Why wasn't this baby sleeping? Were her nights and days mixed like I had heard can happen? Was she starving and frustrated that my milk hadn't come in yet to really fill her up?

The baby starts crying again. Repeating feeding her, putting her down, trying to close my eyes.. feeding.. diaper change... going to the bathroom myself, feeding her, burping.. trying to sleep... etc. etc...

By the 13th feeding (Just throwing in a number there) I sat in the rocking chair and silently cried a little.. letting the tiredness and feelings of failure sink in.. and what made it worse was when I [once again] felt the urge to go to the bathroom and [once again] didn't make it.

What is wrong with me? I was supposed to have it all together this time!

Finally it is 4 in the morning and I am positive I've had a full 22 minutes of sleep the whole night.

I cry lightly to myself and in desperation I grab the baby and pull her into bed with me.

"I am a terrible mother" I think.. "I have no idea what I am doing. I thought I did but I don't. I think I have gone backwards this time."

And as I am about to fall asleep, I have the thought.. "You are doing your best" ring out clear in my mind. And I fall asleep..

And the miracle is.. so did the baby..

Just like that. She slept in my arms for 4 hours straight.

And the other amazing part is.. I slept for a couple of those 4 hours!

When I woke up with Brian and Lydia that morning.. I was feeling like a champ again. I had gotten a couple hours of sleep!

And as we went about our day and when feelings of failure started to swirl around me as I restarted Care Bears for the second time.. I had those 5 words ring out again.

You are doing your best.

I have been thinking about all this since.. I have to keep telling myself exactly that... I am doing by best. And so are all the other women out there. Some new moms may really just have it all come so naturally but I am not one of them. And though things are not so natural.. they still are me doing my best.

And let me throw in.. my husband is a great guy. Yes.. He wasn't the big help I had expected him to be the first day home. But he is a superb father and a wonderful husband and he is also human. Residency has kicked his [and our] trash and I shouldn't have had such unrealistic expectations but I'm not going to lie and say they weren't there either. He is also doing his best even though his best might be a bit more ornery [at times] than mine.

I truly hope that on the third or fourth or whatever first night of motherhood that comes in the future, that I will just learn to let things go and live and let live.

I need to be fine with the fact that I will do my best even if that means the baby (and myself) doesn't sleep the whole night or that my husband is also tired and not as helpful, or that I can't control my bladder after giving birth.

It's still my best. And that is enough.