Monday, March 25, 2019

Jackson Paul

This time I'm not going to apologize for my absence like I usually do.  I'm not going to explain where I've been or why I haven't found the time to sit down and write.  I won't try to justify being MIA because honestly, I probably could have found some time to come visit this space... but I just wasn't ready.  I wasn't ready to organize my thoughts, pictures, and emotions in enough of an orderly fashion to post a blog post worth reading.  But, every day in the back of my mind I've heard a voice telling me to just sit down and write - to get it all off my chest whether it makes sense or not - thus, here I am, 48 days after having a baby and I'm still not sure what to say.  But I'll try.

I don't want to bore you with the oh my god my birth experience was beautiful and I want to have seven more kids right away and be a stay at home mom for the rest of my life story that some new moms feel like they need to write.  I won't tell you that the c-section I had was way easier than I expected, because it wasn't.  I'm not going to tell you that I never felt better than I did after giving birth and that it was such a simple experience.  Because none of that is true.  But what I will tell you is this... giving birth to my son was hands down the craziest, most empowering, most incredibly earth shattering, gratifying, and happiest thing I have ever experienced...and at least once a day I still cry about it.  Am I crying because I'm thrilled with excitement and because I can't believe my body grew something so perfect and special?  Hell yes.  Am I also crying because I am scared to death about being a mom and being responsible for the life of this little human being forever?  Also hell yes.  Is it petrifying but glorious and incredibly rewarding all at the same time?  HELL to the YES.

Let me get back to the crying part.  People told me I'd cry, so at least I had some warning.  But they only really told me I'd cry when I first saw him, and that I'd cry when they put him in my arms.  They didn't tell me that I'd cry when I counted all his fingers, toes, and inspected every inch of his little body and realized he was absolutely perfect.  That I'd cry when people told me he looks like me.  That I'd secretly also cry when everyone else told me he looks just like his dad and they don't really see me in him.  No one told me that I'd be having a perfectly normal day going about my business and just randomly feel the tears in my eyes.  I wasn't prepared for the fact that I would simply just cry.  Cry for no reason.  Cry because I'm happy.  Cry because I'm sad that I'm not pregnant anymore.  Cry because I miss living at the hospital for four nights when the nurses were only the press of a button away.  Honestly, I've cried way more than I expected to.  I cry when Jackson won't sleep.  I cry when I change him, feed him, love him, and he still screams.  I cried when the doctor told me he has acid reflux because I also have acid reflux and I know how f*cking painful it is and I never want my son to feel it.  I cry because I feel bad for Nala that the baby gets all the attention now.  I cry when Jackson looks at me and smiles because he's now seven weeks old and can recognize my face, and to me that's such an achievement.  I cry when he finally poops after a couple days of constipation because I am so happy it came out.  I cried when I put all the 4 ounce bottles away because that means he's already getting big and needs the bigger bottles.  I cried when I had to buy him 3-6 month onesies.  I cry when Paul says something funny and I laugh so hard but am so hormonal still that it turns into an all out ugly Kim Kardashian cry session.  I cry all the damn time, over the good, the bad, but mostly over the fact that I am so amazed by my life and my body, and my new very best little friend.  I cry because I'm in awe of myself as a woman and feel like a god damn super hero for getting pregnant and having a baby.  I cry because I'm so proud.  But does the crying get better and begin to subside as I gain more confidence in myself as a mother and as Jackson and I get to know each other better?  Yes.  Am I crying more tears of happiness these days than tears of any other kind?  Yes.  Is it all so worth it?  Yes.

Is this possibly the most raw and real post I've ever written?  Yes.

All of the above seems kind of scary, but if someone had warned me about all of it before I got pregnant, I would have still done it over.  Jackson is hands down the best part of my life.  He's my favorite face in the morning.  His little voice when he coos is my favorite sound.  His head after a warm bath is my favorite scent.  His tiny hand wrapped all the way around my pointer finger is my favorite feeling.  His eyes are the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, and the bottom of his feet are the softest things I've ever felt.  His breath smells so good, and his bright pink little lips are my favorite lips to kiss.  His cry is the saddest and scariest (and sometimes most frustrating) sound in the world, but the mere fact that he calms down when I soothe him is such a reward.  The feeling I get when I can make him stop crying is the same feeling I imagine I'd get after running a marathon... somewhat sweaty, tired as hell, but so freaking accomplished.

Knowing that I get to be this little boy's mother is the best gift I've ever been given.  Realizing that he is literally half of me and half of Paul, the man I love, is such a blessing.  Seriously.  When I think that I get to raise this little boy, bring him up in this world and teach him right from wrong, take him on trips, spend days just snuggling him, give him advice, watch him excel in his endeavors and pick him up when he fails, see him succeed in school and make friends, let him become whoever he wants to be, and remind him that my arms are always his home...all of this is the unbelievably mind-blowing to me.

So I could go on and on about all the things that make me happy, sad, exhausted, and scared about being a mother, but I think you already get the gist.  If you're reading this and have already had a baby, I'm sure you can relate.  If you're planning on having a baby some day and need some advice, all I can tell you is what I've learned in the nine months of being pregnant and the seven weeks of being a mother, and that is this... be kind to yourself.  Let your body experience every emotion and every physical ounce of pain and joy.  Don't ever be ashamed of being nervous and second guessing everything you're doing.  Don't read the typical "mommy blogs" and don't google every question you have.  Talk to the women you trust, take the advice of the baby's father because honestly, as new moms we are emotional and a lot less logical than the men sometimes.  They really do have good input and you need their help!  Remember that this baby's heart began to beat inside your body, so you already know how to keep him alive.  Trust yourself, trust your relationship with your body and with your baby, and remember you are only human and that it's normal to cry.  And if you're wondering if writing a blog post all about your experience becoming a mother is another thing that will make you cry, the answer is yes.  Hell. Yes.

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