Dear Life, Where are my pain pills and crackers now?

I have a theory on why they only keep you in the hospital for two nights after you deliver.  It has less to do with insurance and more to do with meconium hitting the fan on day three.  You are allowed two glorious nights with friendly nurses bringing you crackers and pain pills before you are shipped off into a world where you are doing well if your eating rice straight from the cooker on the stove. Oh, and by the way the peanut butter in crackers will now cause your baby to writhe in pain.

My husband was only able to be off with us for a week.  I panicked, but reassured myself with the thought that I'd be okay.  I had naively assumed that I would be able to keep everything under control.  I had done this before, right?  How hard could it possibly be? New baby and a four year old who was pretty much self sufficient.  She can wipe herself and use a toaster, what else does she need?   Plus, I had plenty of people who could keep me company.  I certainly didn't lack people who wanted to visit and cuddle the new baby.


Yeah, fast forward to the second day home with the children sans husband where I lost it.  I cried myself silly all day long.  Happy (who wasn't so happy then) was having stomach troubles and I was trying desperately to deal with that AND tame an attention hungry toddler. One night I called the lactation nurses in tears.  The baby had been crying for over an hour and we had tried everything.  I choked out my responses to her questions before hearing these words, “Is this for your first child?” 

Uncontrollable crying

 “No, she’s my second.”  I know lady.  I’ve been down this road before and here I was boo-hooing to a complete stranger on the phone.  I can't keep my baby from crying. I should know what I’m doing, but I don’t.  All of those months planning and preparing A. James to be an independent, confident big sister went down the drain.  She all of a sudden needed "help" doing the simplest tasks and was a monster if she didn't get x amount of attention from mom and dad a day.  As for the guests?  No way. The last thing I wanted was for my family and friends to see how much of a complete wreck I was.  New mom's are supposed to be happy and cheerful, not acting like this!  I was disappointed with myself.  I’m a failure as a mom.  Come take my license away that allows me to use my kids as excuses to hold the animals in Petco.

This is how I felt every. Single. Day.

Fail, fail, fail.

I wanted to know who it was that painted this glamorous picture of new moms and new babies.  Where days are spent cuddled beneath a down comforter while your “sex-deprived and okay with it” husband brings you breakfast in bed, quietly, not to disturb the aura of bliss radiating out of the room, all the while thinking what a peaceful and happy life you have.  Where the laundry gets done and there is always something warm and delicious on the table.  Where your older daughter is happy and not having a melt down because you are out of sunbutter and this means you no longer love her.

Ah, the glamorous life of a new mom.

Did I just describe your life?  If so can I call you?  I’d really like to pick your brain and figure out what I’m doing wrong over here.  Not that my husband isn’t wonderfully helpful.  He is.  But even with all his help, I feel like I am barely able to keep my head above water most days and I practically drown the others.  I look around at all the other new moms and get this “I’m doing awesome and not crying every night” vibe. Friends want me to hang out and visit and I feel like a total mess.  Heck, a successful day means that I’ve showered.  If I’m wearing clean underwear and remembered to brush my teeth---bonus points.


Happy is ten weeks old now and I can almost see a faint outline of what might be normal if I squint and wish really, really hard.  TEN WEEKS!  I feel like I should have had things together a long, long time ago. We are just now starting to leave the house without help from my husband.  However, to be fair, most of the time it is just to drive to my grandmother’s house and  I've gone to Kroger with both kids twice---a feat to which I felt deserved some type of trophy. 

I know it will get better, it does every day.  As Happy gets older and is able to stay occupied for longer periods of time.  As she starts to smile and coo my heart melts and I forget about all the hours of bouncing and crying and crying and bouncing.  They say moms forget about how hard it is with a newborn baby.  That must explain it.  Otherwise you’ve got to be a stark raving mad woman to do this again and again.