This parenting thing is strange. I can go a few hours at a time without a single obligation - that is, if the baby's sleeping - and then suddenly, my dinner has to get cold while I need to figure out why the tiny human in my house seems angry. And LOUD. Sleep is now a precious commodity - literally worth haggling over with my husband, if need be. (Fortunately, haggling is infrequent, as I have a great hubby who tries his best to take care of both me and the baby.)
I was disappointed to learn how frequently I have been second-guessing myself since the baby came home from the NICU. I can literally not turn around without getting advice (sometimes solicited, frequently not) from folks on social media. All of the books I have read contradict each other. The NICU doc and my pediatrician gave me advice from two different ends of the spectrum. So basically, this is what I have learned about parenting:
Never wake the baby for feeds, except if he has slept too long, which means anywhere from three to five hours, depending on what is normal for your baby. Let the baby sleep as long as he wants, because he or she will cry to let you know he's hungry. Since crying is a late sign of hunger, you're a negligent parent if your child has to cry to let you know he's hungry. Never use a pacifier unless the child was given one in the hospital, in which case your should abandon all hope of even trying to breastfeed your baby. Co-sleeping is the best way to go because it fosters closeness between yourself and the baby and allows your husband to bond with the baby too, except you're nuts and crunchy and a total wack-job if you let that baby into your bed because he will have all sorts of psychological issues later. You should be ashamed of yourself if your child sleeps through a feeding, because you are going to hell for child abuse. Plus, your milk supply will dry up and you will be like the Sahara Desert. If you use a nipple shield, you're cursing your child to a life of malnourishment, because that will mess with your supply, too. Use a nipple shield if your baby was introduced to the bottle first, as in cases of baby or maternal illness. Oh, wait, your baby was introduced to the bottle before the breast? You must have had a horrible birth plan. Or your doctors didn't adhere to your birth plan because you were not assertive enough in expressing your desires. So you are obviously raising a child with self-esteem issues. Good luck when adolescence hits! Why didn't you have a home birth? You're a terrible person. You should never have had a child at all.
Whew. Glad I have everything figured out now and can go about my merry way, being the best mom in the history of ever.
Truth is, there's so much advice out there on so many topics that you need to take nearly everything with a grain of salt nowadays. Every time I log onto facebook, there is a different article posted from one of my more passionate friends. One day it's on the dangers of GMO products, and the next, it's an elaborate post about the "correct" way to drink water (apparently I've done it wrong for 32 years, which obviously explains why I have utterly failed at life so far). There are articles touting the dangers of poisonous and deadly artificial sweeteners, articles advocating breastfeeding until the kid's practically in college, articles shaming me for eating anything other than organic, locally sourced kale and squash, articles warning me that my children will die if I use any type of cleanser other than white vinegar and baking soda...
...as well as articles refuting nearly every one of the above assertions.
It's terribly difficult to know who and want to trust. Even when it comes to family - whom generally I do trust - there are such dramatic differences between life now and when my husband and I were first born, it's almost like we are all learning everything together, for the first time!
I'm still working the learning curve. Some days are good and some are not good at all. Today, for example, is a not good day. Baby has slept much of the day, which I usually despise, as it's generally an indication he will be up and fussy all night. However, he hasn't eaten much today and he's spit up several times, which is unusual for him. He seems like he's having tummy trouble, so I'm thinking it's best for him to rest today. One day of poor eating won't kill him - even the little guy that he is. I'm hoping that we'll wake with a clean slate tomorrow - and if not, then the docs get a call from me.
The initial few weeks were hellish. I'm the kind of gal who really, really values her eight full hours of sleep (that, paired with my introversion, means that I rarely go out once I'm home from work during the week; yes, I'm pretty hard-core lame). Having that stolen from me was something I almost took personally. Breastfeeding has been an exhausting and frustrating challenge in many ways. (This is not a mommy blog so I choose not to get into details about that; suffice it to say that it is not the beautiful bonding experience I had hoped it would be.) Trying to bond with a baby who doesn't much like to cuddle isn't very encouraging, either. Venturing out of the house with a premature child has been scary and intimidating, too. We're keeping our outings as short as possible now, to keep stress out of the equation if we can. Plus, we're working with baby to reprogram his thinking - that is to say, to rework his days and nights, since he'd sleep for five or six hours easily during the day if I let him, but then he'll wail inconsolably for the same amount of time once nightfall hits.
I feel guilty right now. I'm sure there are some hormones coming into play right now, but my own personal challenge is that I'm expecting myself to experience the glowing joy of motherhood so often portrayed in movies and magazines, without going through the ugly trenches of living on two showers per week, blurry-eyed 3 AM feedings, irrational fights with hubby, seemingly endless crying jags (for me and for baby), and buckets of self-pity over my wardrobe not fitting me yet.
The guilt, I think, is coming from the knowledge that I've overcome three miscarriages for this moment, and I expected to be full of radiance, practically oozing maternal instinct, to suddenly and miraculously have a closer and more intimate relationship with God, but instead, I'm still sorting out my feelings. I thought I was going to literally glow. Instead, I want to lose 35 pounds. I have no desire to cook, which I used to love. I get frustrated with the baby, and with myself, and sometimes I say things I don't mean. I worry I'm not a good mom. I run to WebMD to research my son's birthmark instead of listening to the doctors, who told me there's nothing to be concerned about. I don't know what to do about returning to work. Well, I kind of do, but I'm not sure.
I guess all of that is pretty much 100% normal, and maybe that is the craziest part. This is my new normal, and I have no choice but to get used to it!
Wow.
(Props to Megan B., Deana T., Alayna R. and Jaime H. for helping me get through the first really, really difficult weeks with their great advice and much-needed laughter!)
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