This past week has been HARD. Yes, I complained about morning sickness. I complained about fainting. I complained about swollen itchy feet, and about waiting around an extra eleven days for the little guy. I complained about the recovery (who wouldn’t?)… and now? Now I am going to complain some more. At least those of you who are considering having children will know what you might be in for.
Some of it is hormones, some of it is exhaustion, a lot of it is just that I am not very good at this. You see- we have a screamer. He doesn’t scream for company or visitors, and so I can understand why no one believes us. That our little angel who is so cute and peaceful could possibly give us any trouble. But come night? Oh lord. Devan has some pretty serious acid reflux, and we are doing everything that the pediatrician suggested to help him feel better. And while is does seem to be having some positive effects, it is tough on us. He needs to be held upright after he eats, and we can not ever lay him flat on his back. So one of us has to stay up holding him upright- often while being blasted at close range with ear piercing screams. It is very tiring, and by the time daylight rolls around I am ready to crash- and not ready for 11 hours alone with baby, angelic though he may be.
We have had some really good days where showers are taken, laundry done, walks around the park and trips to the store occur, and one day I even made a homemade sweet potato pie with gluten free crust. Those days I am tired, but happy and I daydream about how large our family will be in five to ten years. And then there are the days where Devan is awake for 12 hours straight- crying, and crying, and crying. The days where everything I try to help soothe him just makes him more furious and me more dejected. And those days I lose it, and I have to walk away and call Craig in hysterics and tell him that I am not capable of being a mother and make him come home from work and save Devan from his mommy and vice versa. Those days I often wonder how it is that families are ever composed of more than one child.
People did tell me that the first few weeks are hard, but I didn’t really believe it. I felt prepared for the sleep deprivation by endless nights at studio, I was prepared for diaper duty by three cute but disgusting pets, I was prepared for whatever came my way. Except, I wasn’t. No one can ever really make you understand how tough the first few weeks are until you do it yourself, just like no one can really prepare you for how much you are going to love this little baby- screams and all.