Thoughts on the Reality of Unpredictable Motherhood
*These thoughts today are inspired by my friend Erica and the many other women I have talked to in the past several months about the unexpected twists and turns that will inevitably arise when you become a mother.*
When I found out I was pregnant with our little one, I had a clear picture in my mind of what I wanted and how my journey through pregnancy and motherhood would flow. I just knew we were having a little boy, that I would have a relatively comfortable pregnancy where I would exercise the entire 9 months and come out without a single stretch mark. I knew that because of all my exercise, my strong body would make labor swift and that after 24 hours in the hospital, we would take our handsome son home where we would have all the time in the world to peacefully learn how to be a new parents. Breastfeeding would be simple, because that is what God designed those puppies for, my little fella would never need a pacifier, and my marriage with Burke would continue along as a happy, loving companionship with no major disruption to our routine.
Can I get some laughter and maybe a few groans from the peanut gallery?
Why did I have these lofty visions of perfection?! It's almost like I was asking for everything and anything to go wrong so I could come down from my daydreams and realize that motherhood is a sacrifice, packed full of the unexpected and unplanned! I suppose I saw a few of my sisters who were rarely sick during pregnancy, dropped back almost immediately to their former shape, and have awesome lactation that allowed them to be able to nurse their babies the entire first year. I assumed that having the same genes, I would have a similar experience.
I'm here to report that we are ALL different! No two women are going to experience pregnancy and motherhood in the exact same way - even if you are related! NONE of my expectations for pregnancy panned out the way I had hoped they would. Unlike my 4 sisters who have had babies, I was sick as a dog for the first 16 weeks, throwing up at least once a day, initially dropping several pounds and making exercise impossible. Three weeks before my due date, I broke out with PUPS (who the heck has ever even heard of that?!) where my skin was stretched to its absolute maximum and the skin reacted with horrendously painful hives. During those last 3 weeks I cycled through 3 different doctors, was induced, labored for nearly 22 hours and finally had to take our chunky baby girl via C-section because I was too small and she was too big.
So far, nothing was going according to plan. When Daphne was taken by C-section, I felt like such a failure. I was so glad they could save her (and me!) with the miracle of modern medicine and operations, but it hurt my heart to think that I couldn't naturally do what billions of other mothers could. I questioned my strength and ability. What was wrong with me? Should I have done something different? More Kegles? Less chocolate?
Also, contradictory to my plans, Daphne spent 5 days in the NICU and Burke and I did indeed have a few rough days adjusting to the new dynamic of our family. However, despite all of these unpredictable complications to my initial plan for motherhood, it was all still so wonderful. I loved being pregnant (once I got over the first 16 weeks!) and feeling that life growing within me. I don't think I could ever adequately describe the immense love that flooded my being when I first held my precious baby. All of that was way better than I had imagined and made every other "inconvenience" disappear from my memories.
So why am I reflecting on these unforeseen trials from pregnancy now? Because a few weeks ago when I realized my milk was not supplying enough for Daphne's demand, I began to feel that same sense of failure that I had after all of the unplanned events in my pregnancy and especially after my C-section. I kept fighting it, thinking if I just pumped more or fed her more often than the milk would pick up. It never did and after several nights of her waking up hungry in the middle of the night, I finally relented and began supplementing with formula. I know it may sound silly to others, but if you've been in this situation, you may be able to relate to my disappointment. It made me so sad to think that I could no longer provide for all of Daphne's needs on my own. I loathed mixing up a bottle of formula that had written in bold letters on the can, "Mother's milk is proven to be the best source of nutrients for your baby." I wanted to yell at the can, "Don't you think I know that?! I'm trying my best!" Then there was the drama of Daphne throwing up the foreign tasting formula and refusing to drink it. I found myself crying out of frustration on more than one occasion when she would refuse the breast and the bottle, but be wailing because she was still hungry. What could I do? I felt completely helpless.
What surprised me most, was when I started talking to other moms about this issue and I began to learn that I was not alone. Friends, in-laws, ward members and even my own mother related similar stories - little milk, no milk, dried up milk. I was shocked to hear how many other women have struggled with this same problem and felt similar emotions of failure and disappointment.
I guess, in the end, that is why I wanted to write this post. To reassure any of you who may be in my similar situation that you are not abnormal if you are having issues with different aspects of pregnancy or motherhood. Chances are your next door neighbor, or sister, or friend may have had the same struggles as well. It is okay to realize that as long as you are doing everything to keep you baby healthy, safe and happy, then you don't have to feel bad if you were not able to do it the traditional way or the way you had planned on. Love your baby and love yourself for your efforts. You are still a capable woman and a wonderful mom. You can adapt and you can do so gracefully and cheerfully. I promise.
When I found out I was pregnant with our little one, I had a clear picture in my mind of what I wanted and how my journey through pregnancy and motherhood would flow. I just knew we were having a little boy, that I would have a relatively comfortable pregnancy where I would exercise the entire 9 months and come out without a single stretch mark. I knew that because of all my exercise, my strong body would make labor swift and that after 24 hours in the hospital, we would take our handsome son home where we would have all the time in the world to peacefully learn how to be a new parents. Breastfeeding would be simple, because that is what God designed those puppies for, my little fella would never need a pacifier, and my marriage with Burke would continue along as a happy, loving companionship with no major disruption to our routine.
Can I get some laughter and maybe a few groans from the peanut gallery?
Why did I have these lofty visions of perfection?! It's almost like I was asking for everything and anything to go wrong so I could come down from my daydreams and realize that motherhood is a sacrifice, packed full of the unexpected and unplanned! I suppose I saw a few of my sisters who were rarely sick during pregnancy, dropped back almost immediately to their former shape, and have awesome lactation that allowed them to be able to nurse their babies the entire first year. I assumed that having the same genes, I would have a similar experience.
I'm here to report that we are ALL different! No two women are going to experience pregnancy and motherhood in the exact same way - even if you are related! NONE of my expectations for pregnancy panned out the way I had hoped they would. Unlike my 4 sisters who have had babies, I was sick as a dog for the first 16 weeks, throwing up at least once a day, initially dropping several pounds and making exercise impossible. Three weeks before my due date, I broke out with PUPS (who the heck has ever even heard of that?!) where my skin was stretched to its absolute maximum and the skin reacted with horrendously painful hives. During those last 3 weeks I cycled through 3 different doctors, was induced, labored for nearly 22 hours and finally had to take our chunky baby girl via C-section because I was too small and she was too big.
So far, nothing was going according to plan. When Daphne was taken by C-section, I felt like such a failure. I was so glad they could save her (and me!) with the miracle of modern medicine and operations, but it hurt my heart to think that I couldn't naturally do what billions of other mothers could. I questioned my strength and ability. What was wrong with me? Should I have done something different? More Kegles? Less chocolate?
Also, contradictory to my plans, Daphne spent 5 days in the NICU and Burke and I did indeed have a few rough days adjusting to the new dynamic of our family. However, despite all of these unpredictable complications to my initial plan for motherhood, it was all still so wonderful. I loved being pregnant (once I got over the first 16 weeks!) and feeling that life growing within me. I don't think I could ever adequately describe the immense love that flooded my being when I first held my precious baby. All of that was way better than I had imagined and made every other "inconvenience" disappear from my memories.
So why am I reflecting on these unforeseen trials from pregnancy now? Because a few weeks ago when I realized my milk was not supplying enough for Daphne's demand, I began to feel that same sense of failure that I had after all of the unplanned events in my pregnancy and especially after my C-section. I kept fighting it, thinking if I just pumped more or fed her more often than the milk would pick up. It never did and after several nights of her waking up hungry in the middle of the night, I finally relented and began supplementing with formula. I know it may sound silly to others, but if you've been in this situation, you may be able to relate to my disappointment. It made me so sad to think that I could no longer provide for all of Daphne's needs on my own. I loathed mixing up a bottle of formula that had written in bold letters on the can, "Mother's milk is proven to be the best source of nutrients for your baby." I wanted to yell at the can, "Don't you think I know that?! I'm trying my best!" Then there was the drama of Daphne throwing up the foreign tasting formula and refusing to drink it. I found myself crying out of frustration on more than one occasion when she would refuse the breast and the bottle, but be wailing because she was still hungry. What could I do? I felt completely helpless.
What surprised me most, was when I started talking to other moms about this issue and I began to learn that I was not alone. Friends, in-laws, ward members and even my own mother related similar stories - little milk, no milk, dried up milk. I was shocked to hear how many other women have struggled with this same problem and felt similar emotions of failure and disappointment.
I guess, in the end, that is why I wanted to write this post. To reassure any of you who may be in my similar situation that you are not abnormal if you are having issues with different aspects of pregnancy or motherhood. Chances are your next door neighbor, or sister, or friend may have had the same struggles as well. It is okay to realize that as long as you are doing everything to keep you baby healthy, safe and happy, then you don't have to feel bad if you were not able to do it the traditional way or the way you had planned on. Love your baby and love yourself for your efforts. You are still a capable woman and a wonderful mom. You can adapt and you can do so gracefully and cheerfully. I promise.
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