Six months postpartum. A journey.
I don’t know exactly where I expected to be a half of a year post baby no. four, but… I feel far away from it. Some days that frustrates me to tears and other days… it’s a comfort of sorts.
Things I can’t do without:
postnatal vitamins
a bag of dark chocolate chips in the fridge
brisk morning walks
ice water
sinking into the couch for a show with @jakemarg (even if it’s 12 seconds worth)
I’m still processing our birth story. I think about it every day with a lot of gratitude and a few regrets. Mostly a wild gratitude though.
Our home is probably an outward depiction of my heart & mind. There’s tension mixed with ease, a total chaotic mess that I’m always scrambling to tidy up, fighting for attention and then smothering of hugs and endless laughter.
It seems annoying to talk about the lack of sleep we get. But we lack sleep in a bigger way than we acknowledge. I nurse her to sleep, her latch is still sloppy and she refuses bottles. But I’ll keep nursing her to sleep for two more years. And I love that.
Make no mistake though… most nights, I just long to sleep for a couple of uninterrupted hours next to my husband. Alone in our own bed. Because there is always someone in our bed.
He wears the cape around here, by the way. My adoration for him, my gratitude has exploded even if we can hardly spare a moment for each other.
I’ve learned that my brain & body are very different after baby no. four than after baby no. one. And two and three. My needs and longings, capacity and capability… are all so different now.
But I still question if I’m getting things right or not. Like the Tylenol dosage or the tightness of the car seat straps, the amount of time I play with the bigger kids or the way I raised my voice. And bigger questions, too, like what tone am I setting in our home, why do my kids yell so much and… why does everything feel so hard. Now more than ever, I feel the weight and responsibility of every single thing that happens in our family.
I stay in bed later than I’d like, exercise much less than I want to and eat more cookies than I feel like I should. My clothes don’t fit, I lose track of time and I’m missing things I never used to.
But I know for certain I’m doing the best I can.
I’ve nearly isolated myself from the closest friendships I have. Maybe I haven’t been honest about how I’m doing or maybe I haven’t let anyone in to help. Or maybe I just want to stay in here with this baby forever, just keep her littleness, all of their littleness, all to myself.
And that’s just it. Every single day I fight the battle between knowing that I couldn’t split my time with one more child than we have now, yet, wondering how I’ll survive if this is my last baby phase. Having babies feels like… home to me.
Sometimes I look back and giggle at my original version of motherhood, other times I applaud her for getting me where I am today.
Just six months into having four babies, and I know I am more different than I have ever been. I think I like where this is going, but it feels like a lull, a deep trench for a bit.
But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 🤍
And that’s what I think the postpartum experience can truly be like. The baby… she’s one million percent lovely, but she doesn’t tell the whole story.
I’m here and loved and know where my strength comes from, but we should always, always check on the moms. Hold & love the moms just as much as you hold & love their babies.
Until next time,
