When I'm an old hand at parenting, and someone says to me, "I'm pregnant!" I promise:
I will not immediately follow "Congratulations!" with tales of all of the worst pregnancy, birth, and postpartum memories I can conjure up. One well meaning family member, within five minutes of Mrs. Rodius making the Big Announcement, was regaling us with tales of her c-section, in which the doctor touched her stomach, and she threw up. Twice. A co-worker, again within only a minute or two of hearing that we were expecting, told me how the OB had to deliberately break his son's collarbone to fit him through the pelvis, and how he heard the crack. So I promise not to do the same. And if I do, I'll try to contain the glee in my voice. At least a little.
I will never use the phrase, "You'll never sleep again!" or any of its variants, such as "you better sleep now," or "you can't store up sleep, but you can at least be well rested." I'm here to tell you that "well-rested" doesn't carry you very far once you're in it. So if I get the urge myself someday to pass on these little nuggets, I will remind myself that no words can convey this hazy, shapeless time, when days smear together into one long, hallucination of waking and sleep; of desperately trying to satisfy a helpless newborn life that seems to believe he is truly dying; of glorious, glowing afternoons crashing disastrously into apocalyptic, endless hours in the dungeon of 3 a.m. I promise I will not find joy in oracling this limbo in another's future. And if I do, I'll try not to grin too wide.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
"I will remind myself that no words can convey this hazy, shapeless time, when days smear together into one long, hallucination of waking and sleep; of desperately trying to satisfy a helpless newborn life that seems to believe he is truly dying; of glorious, glowing afternoons crashing disastrously into apocalyptic, endless hours in the dungeon of 3 a.m."
No words except your own, friend. You captured it perfectly. Those first few months are triage. I say that not with a grin at all, but with nothing but respect for all that you and your new little family are going through. I know the crying is so intense, but it's the only way they have to communicate. Hang in there - in a month or two (I know that's forever), Thumper will make it all worthwhile by giving you a big, gummy smile. I promise you'll want to keep him after that. Sending you all hugs.
Ditto.
I have heard of parents who have "easy babies" - those that sleep for several hours at a stretch as soon as they are home from the hospital, nurse expertly, and only cry when they need food or to be changed.
My first son had colic. Clinical colic. As in, crying for hours upon hours upon HOURS day and night. He could not be soothed.
My second son was born premature, and when he got out of the NICU and came home, was on an alarm that would go off if he stopped breathing. It went off a few times. He also didn't like to sleep. At all. (still doesn't)
My 3rd was an "easy baby". But I had to go through the first 2 to get her.
There is nothing at all funny about the early days. Nothing at all. No grinning or joking over here.
Just get through it one day at a time, and like Annie said, it will pass and Thumper will turn into an adorable roly poly 6 month old (my favorite age).
Hang in there!! Oh, and if Mrs. Rodius and Thumper are having nursing issues, I can completely commiserate and offer an empathetic shoulder - it didn't come easy for me or my babies (except the 3rd...but she's weird)
Ah, Rodius, I wish I could move you three just a little bit forward in time. It will get better, I promise. And I probably said some of those despicable pregnancy things, and now I'm really, really sorry.
Here's the little irony--YOU were the sweetest, most easy-going baby around, a welcome respite after the intensity of Big Brother. Now you know for sure that newborns are not just blank slates--they come with their own way of dealing with the world!
oh but please DO promise you'll continue to write poetry like this!
:D
Don't worry, it ain't that bad. It's just a strange time. I know we'll come out the other side just fine. You gotta be a little melodramatic if you wants to be all artistic and whatnot!
i, rodius, welcome to parenthood. You have truly arrived. Here's another tried and true (and tired) phrase. Parenthood is the most rewarding thing I have ever done but also the hardest. Have you heard that before? I'm sure you have. May you bne lucky and forget some of these sleepless nights later on, like in two years. Really, this time will become hazy. Actually, just replaced with other new and wonderful (and tiring) moments. Have I mentioned that I am still tired? My oldest is a few months shy of four and I feel like I have been tired her entire life. But this isn't about me. It's about you and the missus : ).
That 3am hour strecth just tanks, doesn't it.
I am rambling. Good luck. Remember to hand baby off to mommy if sleep deprivation begins to cloud good judgement.
Post a Comment