The Best Job

We’re one month into this baby thing now, and I have to say- We’ve got this! As I’ve stated (except for in my joke post which nobody got), we’ve been pretty lucky with this baby.

There are heartwarming times every day,  like when the baby motorboats my nipple while trying to latch on, and finally looks up at me in sweet satisfaction, his deep blue eyes wide and trusting and innocent.  There are times when he does crazy things with his hands and ends up poking himself in the eyeball, just like he did during our 3D ultrasound when I really became convinced he was a boy, because what girl does that?  There have been a few nights when he’s slept for so many hours I awake with a start, afraid my baby is dead. There are times he wrinkles his little forehead and widens his eyes as he takes in this brand new world.  Every time I witness these little miracles, my heart becomes putty as I fall more and more in love with my first born son, the one I waited three years to meet.

I love being a mom.

But I don’t want to give the impression that it’s always easy, because it’s not.  Because there are also times he soils a diaper 10 minutes after I changed him- and he screams bloody murder during every changing.  There are times when he sneezes and boogers bigger than his whole nose are projected onto various parts of my body.  There are times he wakes me in the middle of the night, 56 short minutes after I laid him down to rest.  There are days when his longest nap all day is 30 minutes.  There are times when he will not stop crying even though his diaper is clean, his belly is full, his body is not too hot or too cold, and he has been cuddled and loved.

Those times make my heart melt in a totally different way. Those are the times I often wind up crying myself because I’m his mother, the person who gave him life and whom he trusts more than anyone in the world, and I can’t make him happy.

I’m lucky.  Most of our days are good days, but when we have a day full of hard moments I know my supportive husband will be home in a few hours and can watch the baby to give me a break.  I know the baby’s grandmothers are only a phone call away and they would be thrilled to spend time with the baby, even a fussy baby.  I have countless friends who are mothers of small children that can listen and relate.  I am not walking this road alone.

I have a new found respect for single moms and moms with multiple children.  I also have a new found respect for mothers who had “accident” babies.  Since we had to work so hard for our pregnancy, that concept is foreign to me.  But since it did take us so long, I have good perspective in the hard moments- I remind myself how badly we wanted this and what a miracle baby he is.  Had I gotten pregnant when I was very young, or immature, or poor, or not in a committed relationship, or without a solid support system?  I’m not sure how those women manage the hard moments, and I tip my hat to them.  If I wore a hat, that is.  I don’t wear hats because my ears stick out, so I can’t actually tip my hat to them.  But you get the point.

As an expectant mom, there are a few things people tell you over and over again:  “Your life will never be the same.”  “Motherhood is the hardest but most rewarding job there is.”  “You’ll love in a totally different way.”

These things could not be more true.  It’s not an easy job- but it’s the best job in the world.  Even when you get woken up for the fourth time that night.


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