Motherhood

Motherhood.

It's beautiful and messy and real and terrifying.

It's made me appreciate a house full of noise, but also cherish the quiet.

It's shaped me into a calmer version of myself while also bringing out the I-will-break-your-jaw-if-you-mess-with-my-child attitude.

It's helped me learn how to sacrifice in ways I never imagined (the clean freak in me has never had such a messy house). But I've also learned how to be selfish when I need time to rejuvenate because I want to give my family the best of me.

I've mastered the art of saying "I've had enough!" with the world, and then turned around and found the strength to stay up all night long with my son while he cuts a tooth.

I laugh more. I cry more. I love myself better. I even love my pudgy belly covered in stretch marks that says, "Life was grown here."

There are some rough days. Especially in the beginning when I had no idea how to care for a newborn. At first, it felt like Alex was Kelly's child. Because of my C-Section, I didn't get to bond with him right away. Daddy stayed by his constant side while I slept (and snored loudly) in recovery. Daddy changed his first diaper, held him in his arms the first time, and cradled him all night long the first night.

I, on the other hand, was recovering from high-blood pressure and the realization that I would be recovering much longer than expected. It hurt to sit up. It hurt to stand. I was sick of hospital beds. I just wanted my bed. There is nothing worse than having to spend any more time in the hospital than you want. I just wanted to take Alex home.

I suffered from a mild case of post-partum depression. Too mild to really diagnose until I woke up one day and felt like my old self for the first time in 3 months. My husband kept telling me I wasn't acting like my normal self. But I just chalked it up to being a new mom and adjusting to life with a small human at my side 24/7. It made sense to me.

I suffered in silence. Not bonding immediately with Alex was hard. And then spending my days and nights trying to figure out how to give him everything he needed right when he needed it because I was certain he would break if I didn't was devastating. I put too much pressure on myself.

And don't even get me started on the middle of the night feedings. I thought I was going to die those first 4 months. Now, I have it mastered. I actually enjoy waking up in the dead of night--only on occasion now--to feed my baby. Coffee. Copious amounts of coffee will get you through ANYTHING.

It didn't feel right to talk about the hard time I was having because I knew so many women who were desperately trying to have a baby. I kept telling myself I wasn't allowed to have rough days because I should only feel thankful and happy.

But that was wrong. Everyone is allowed good days AND bad days. Bad days don't minimize the thankfulness and blessings. They just help us appreciate the good days even more.

I'm beyond grateful for those bad days. Those days of staring at my newborn son and thinking, "What if I drop him? What if I can't figure out what he needs and he doesn't stop crying?"

But I didn't drop him. And I figured out pretty quickly newborns need 3 things: sleep, diaper changes, and feedings.

The bad days stripped away the fears and fine-tuned my confidence. And taught me something very important: car rides ALWAYS put a baby to sleep eventually. Especially after a feeding.

Even though there were these rough days that made me question EVERYTHING, they couldn't compare to the good days. The days where my son would look around the room and smile when his eyes found me. The days he learned how to hold his head up and laugh and babble and roll over. The day he sat on his own without support we just cheered and laughed all day long.

I had a rough start, but Alex offered me an infinite amount of grace when it came to learning what he needed. And, more importantly, he has shown me he really does love me in spite of my shortcomings.

The first time he held his arms out for me to pick him up, I held him in my arms for 2 hours because I was so excited. The first time he said, "Hey," he melted my heart. And when he wrapped his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder the first time, I couldn't hold back the tears that escaped and fell down my cheeks.

Most days, I feel like I'm just messing everything up. I forget the solid food at lunch time. I forget to put his clothes into the dryer and we have to rewash everything the next day. And there was that one time he rolled off the couch and screamed because he was so frightened. He was fine, but it took the breath right out of my lungs.

We get through with a lot of love and laughter.

Today, he's cutting his first tooth and we didn't sleep last night or this morning. Right now, he's curled up in my bed with Abner (our malamute) keeping watch over him. I keep checking on him every 10 minutes because my heart aches for his pain. But we will survive and tomorrow will bring laughter and more growing pains.

I find myself looking forward to every milestone. Alex has almost mastered sitting up from the laying position. I can't wait until he can say more words and walks. I am already looking forward to letting him pick out a pumpkin for Halloween and seeing his face when we get the Christmas tree decorated. And his first birthday.


My son has changed my life completely. And every day he reminds me that today I'm a better, more grateful person than I was yesterday. Because when he looks at me, I get to be his everything. At least for a little while. I don't take that for granted.

Nothing compares to bath time every night when he soaks me and the kitchen floor. Nothing compares to the way he plays with my hair first thing in the morning when I'm making coffee. And nothing compares to his excitement every time we play with the chickens (by "play" I mean we let the chickens chase us around the backyard).

In a nut shell, Motherhood is beautiful and messy and real and terrifying. It's the hardest job I've ever loved. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

--Jessi