Monday, April 27, 2015

No More Kids

When I had my first baby, I was barely (by four days), 23 and I had never even babysat a baby. So I had no idea what the hell I was doing and here I was taking home a human. I remember sitting in my room at the hospital with Joshua in my lap just looking at him and his little fingers and toes.
When he was born I didn't cry or feel overwhelmed with love for him because I was too busy with myself and too busy with the fact that he had a cone head -- it take me about a day to have that feeling for him. I blame it on the shitty care at the hospital and the way the whole thing was handled.
Anyway after I got home with him and was peed, pooped and puked on and cried about it but I felt like a mom.
I made a ton of mistakes with this poor child because I had no idea what I was doing. The only thing I knew was that it was him and me and it would all somehow work out, and it did, but it was a steep learning curve.

When Enya was born things were easier. I knew what was going to happen and I at least knew how to change a diaper and feed her. Enya was the easiest baby and always happy, kind of like she is today, with the exception of the hormonal crying every once in a while.
I did have the baby blues with both of them but nothing major and it didn't last longer then 6 weeks.

Then I had Mia 13 years after my first baby and it was like I was a first time mom again. I did know what to do but I was unsure about everything and I second guessed myself constantly. This time I didn't have the baby blues; I had postpartum depression for several months and it was really rough. To top it all off, Christopher was going through his own issues and it was just really, really hard.

Now the kids are 16, 11 and 3 and I am catching myself missing the baby stage. 
When I asked Christopher yesterday if we should have had more kids, he gave me a look like he was going to take me to the hospital to get my head checked. 
I guess it's normal that you forget how rough it was and just remember the good times. I forget about how Enya spit up in my mouth or Joshua accused me of farting in front of the whole emergency room and I about died. 

If I could have given myself a piece of advice back then it would have been:

Don't worry so much. You will not ruin your kids just because you don't know what you are doing. You are not like other moms and that is fine; maybe you don't make snacks that are always healthy and maybe you put your kid in front of the tv too much because you don't want to play, but they will know you love them and they will understand that you did your best. Tell them everyday that you love them and everything will be fine.

Take care, 

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