Finding time to sit down and write has been an impossibility these past couple weeks. What with a baby in the midst of teething, and our entire household getting sick, I’ve barely been able to eat a decent meal, let alone blog.
Luckily we’re all feeling better. Our tissue stockpile significantly depleted, but better nonetheless.
Ava has still yet to break ground, or gums, on the teething front, so for now we remain eagerly and impatiently in wait.
I’m going to be very real here when I say that the stress of being a mother (and domestic goddess) has been slowly but surely catching up to me. Operating on little to no sleep, (still) waking up almost every hour, spending whole days trying to calm a fussy baby – these are the aspects of parenting that nothing could have prepared me for. At this point I am certain my body consists of 70% coffee, 30% water, and 100% sheer determination.
I’m not going to sugar coat anything. In fact, I made that promise to myself when I first decided to start this blog. All too often we look to these “social media icons”, bloggers, YouTubers, Instagram “celebrities”, and their picture perfect lives, and we ask ourselves why our own realities don’t seem to measure up. As a culture, we’ve subconsciously put pressure on ourselves to somehow replicate the controlled content that we see. We try to attain the unattainble. Being brutally honest about those less than picture perfect moments is something that’s become frowned upon. How ridiculous is that? We’ve been brain washed to believe that if we’re struggling, we should keep it to ourselves. Expressing our negative emotions is unjustifiable. Instead we’re encouraged to sweep those feelings under the rug while we post some sort of inspirational quote under a photo of a flower in bloom.
Sure, I do believe you shouldn’t air out all your dirty laundry for the world to see. But I also believe we shouldn’t be ashamed of our struggles. We’re only human.
That being said, lately I’ve been struggling. It’s hard to see the forest for the trees when it seems like these dark days are never going to end. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the phantom crying that I occasionally hear in a completely silent room, but it sometimes feels like I’m stuck in perpetual disquiet.
It’s arduous being the mother of a high needs baby. And for those of you who can relate, I’m going to say something in earnest that we usually shrug off.. As impossible as it may seem, try to savor the good moments, the peaceful moments, the quiet moments. Do your best to not let the bad moments overshadow those good times.
Ava will be 5 months old tomorrow. 5 MONTHS. At some point tonight, that seemed to fall out of the sky like a giant cartoon piano and I am crushed under the weight of it. I am Wile E. Coyote and time is the Road Runner. I am amazed, overwhelmed, eager, and incredibly sad all at the same time. It’s been no secret to those close to me that infancy hasn’t exactly been my favourite. There have been a lot of bad moments.
But there I was tonight, rocking Ava to sleep in her dark, silent room; listening to her sweet little coos and the sound of her breath. Suddenly I felt my heart fill. And then break.
It broke because I realized just how fleeting time is. I will never get those moments back. Her first smile, her first laugh, the first time she reached out for me. They are gone forever, and I can never go back to savour them. To soak them all in.
From the minute Ava was born I made it a point to document every single day. But as time goes on, I begin to realize that all the pictures and videos in the world can never do justice. They can never capture the way I felt in that moment. They can never bring that split second back.
Right now I’m teaching myself to find a new appreciation for this experience. To remind myself of those quiet moments- the ones where I forget how genuinely difficult it is to be a mom, and my love for this tiny human washes over me. I don’t want to look back years from now, filled with regret because I let it overwhelm me to the point I couldn’t enjoy her while she was little. I don’t want to regret not enjoying these fleeting baby days.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that they’re over before you even know it.