Rise and shine
Little lady
Give God your glory
Of your sleepy grin
And curling toes
A barrel belly
Full of hope
My heart dances
My eyes water
Today is
Already very
Already very
Good
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Dad
Jokingly my friends and I call each other "dad," and have for longer than any of us have even had children. It may have something to do with the fact that we've all been aging, and all of the sudden we seem a lot more like our fathers. The shorts got shorter, the work hours longer, and then of course came the cooking skills.
All that to say- I'm now a dad in the literal sense, and it's still a little weird to say that. All of a sudden, this switch is flipped and everything is different. I think thats the hardest part of being a parent in the beginning.
Of course I knew the standard phrase new parents hear every day, "Your life will never be the same!"
I always thought that meant in 16 years I'm going to have to start chasing boys away, or that the only TV shows I'll be watching soon will be kids shows.
Boy was that shortsighted. EVERYTHING is now put into the context of how-do-you-do-that-with-a-child. Especially when they are super young and need to be asleep in peace and quiet.
This is something I'm still getting used to.
At different points in my life, I have entered into intentional situations in order to get closer to Christ. What I learned at the beginning of each of those situations was that I had to die to the parts of myself that were not Christ like.
Moving into my church's community house taught me to hold my possessions more loosely, and getting married taught me to put another's needs before my own, but being a dad has challenged me to surrender every moment to another's needs. It has reoriented my vision as to what my "needs" actually are.
You can't compromise with a baby and say, "Hey I'd really like to go out tonight. Why don't you do one of those 8 hour sleep stints so your mom can rest,and I'll go hang out with my friends."
A baby needs you the moment they need you, and it's unpredictable and out of your control.
I'm learning to die to my desires of wanting to do what I want to do when I want to do it.
Including determining when I get to poop.
Now to to clarify: this has been what God has taught me through the process of becoming a dad. I think God desires this for all people, not just the married, not just the parents, but everyone.
I do think however, that in order to enter into actually pursuing dying to our desires and insatiable need for control, that we will have to put ourselves into a community context where we pursue this together.
This is to say, a call to singleness or not having children will still allow someone to have a full and beautiful life, but no one is called to isolation and unintentionally.
Now having written all that, the best part is that dying to yourself is a whole lot more rewarding in the long run than it feels like in the moment.
Just last night, I didn't go out, I didn't do the normal things that would have made me feel loved, or entertained, or productive in the past. I just sat there and watched my daughter breathe for two hours while she slept with tears in my eyes. It was so beautiful just watching her.
I was just thinking about what a gift it was that I had parents who held me and protected me as a child. I was thinking about how every little breath is a gift from God.
I still want to hang out with friends, and I love playing board games, and it's important for me to do things that bring me life. However, I never thought staring at a child sleeping would be added to this list.
All that to say- I'm now a dad in the literal sense, and it's still a little weird to say that. All of a sudden, this switch is flipped and everything is different. I think thats the hardest part of being a parent in the beginning.
Of course I knew the standard phrase new parents hear every day, "Your life will never be the same!"
I always thought that meant in 16 years I'm going to have to start chasing boys away, or that the only TV shows I'll be watching soon will be kids shows.
Boy was that shortsighted. EVERYTHING is now put into the context of how-do-you-do-that-with-a-child. Especially when they are super young and need to be asleep in peace and quiet.
This is something I'm still getting used to.
At different points in my life, I have entered into intentional situations in order to get closer to Christ. What I learned at the beginning of each of those situations was that I had to die to the parts of myself that were not Christ like.
Moving into my church's community house taught me to hold my possessions more loosely, and getting married taught me to put another's needs before my own, but being a dad has challenged me to surrender every moment to another's needs. It has reoriented my vision as to what my "needs" actually are.
You can't compromise with a baby and say, "Hey I'd really like to go out tonight. Why don't you do one of those 8 hour sleep stints so your mom can rest,and I'll go hang out with my friends."
A baby needs you the moment they need you, and it's unpredictable and out of your control.
I'm learning to die to my desires of wanting to do what I want to do when I want to do it.
Including determining when I get to poop.
Now to to clarify: this has been what God has taught me through the process of becoming a dad. I think God desires this for all people, not just the married, not just the parents, but everyone.
I do think however, that in order to enter into actually pursuing dying to our desires and insatiable need for control, that we will have to put ourselves into a community context where we pursue this together.
This is to say, a call to singleness or not having children will still allow someone to have a full and beautiful life, but no one is called to isolation and unintentionally.
Now having written all that, the best part is that dying to yourself is a whole lot more rewarding in the long run than it feels like in the moment.
Just last night, I didn't go out, I didn't do the normal things that would have made me feel loved, or entertained, or productive in the past. I just sat there and watched my daughter breathe for two hours while she slept with tears in my eyes. It was so beautiful just watching her.
I was just thinking about what a gift it was that I had parents who held me and protected me as a child. I was thinking about how every little breath is a gift from God.
I still want to hang out with friends, and I love playing board games, and it's important for me to do things that bring me life. However, I never thought staring at a child sleeping would be added to this list.
Monday, August 11, 2014
3 weeks 3 days
I'm finally able to share this. Before you read this very very honest confession that I wrote almost a month ago, know that I am better. I am joyful. I look at my daughter and think she is lovely and have to actively stop myself from kissing her all day.
Still, I think this might help some new parents to know that they are not alone. So I share it, now as different person that the one who wrote it. It is ok to let yourself vocalize these things. I had to before I could let it go.
My days are a blur, and I dread the night. This morning, I had a machine strapped to my breasts milking me while I awkwardly leaned over my coffee table in an attempt to eat breakfast with my free hand alternating between bouncing my 3 week old daughter and editing photos on my laptop. If that sounds insane, that’s because it is.
I am going insane.
Last night, she ate at around 2 hour intervals… which left me about an hour available for sleep between feeding sessions IF I could fall asleep. Every time I feed her, she is gassy and scream/cries approximately 20 minutes afterwards. Not FOR 20 minutes (the time is indefinite), 20 minutes LATER she will cry. Let’s do some math, if the child is eating at 2 hour intervals from start to start and eats for about 20 minutes, gets burped for 5-10, is soothed to sleep for 5-10, and then wakes up gassy and fussy needing to be put down again, that leaves a window of 20 minutes for sleep, followed by a second window of 1 hour and 10 minutes MINUS the time it takes to get gassy girl to be quiet.
Sometimes, I am just awake for the entire 2 hours and it begins again.
During the day, I usually sit with the baby in our living room with the windows drawn (since I have to pull a boob out at regular intervals), and “calming” music playing. Here’s the thing, when your child will only sleep in a room with white noise, there is never a moment of silence.
I have an eternal headache.
As an extrovert, with the need to achieve, the whole alone-in-a-dark-room-all-day thing is really really depressing. Sure, I could get out while Margo is napping, but then I would have to sacrifice my own ability to nap while she is napping… even if it is light and fitful. Also, I would have to cry in front of strangers. That is such a buzzkill.
I was so focused on labor and delivery that I didn’t give much thought to what it would be like afterwards. Pregnancy is hard. Delivery is harder than pregnancy, and life with a newborn is infinitely harder than delivery.
Maybe I will post this someday later when I can put a positive spin on things. People say that this will get better, but right now, I’m living in anticipation of the stress in the minutes to come. I find myself watching the count down clock in my breastfeeding app, begging it to slow down so that I can get away.
I would never leave my family, but now I understand why someone would. It’s not even about them. It’s about me. I am selfish. I want to be my own person and do what I want, when I want. I want to sleep through my daughter’s screams. I can’t… but I want to. I want to go to the freaking mall and get some clothes that hide my postpartum belly flab, are suitable for nursing, and are not sweatpants and t-shirts. I want to take back my “mom bob” haircut, as someone so graciously called it, and look like myself again.
Eveything is stripped away.
I am complete emotional nerve endings… like my daughter.
Good news! At 7 weeks, Margo is sleeping much longer during the night, and we are getting adequate sleep. She is smiling. It is amazing.
I have much more freedom to leave the house since she does wonderfully in her car seat and takes bottles easily. I feel like myself. It's a new me, but I like her.
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