This isn’t meant to attract positive or negative attention. This is just meant for me. A place where I can freely write what I feel and think at the moment. It just so happens that I happen to have a lot on my mind since becoming a new mom. Some might say that it’s just a case of the post baby blues, the stress of dealing with a newborn, or just being down right scared. While I feel it might be a combination of several things, I’ve reached the point where I need to divulge what’s on my mind before I crack down like my baby does when a feeding is past due. I’ve been absolutely thrilled that my baby is here. I’ve gotten the opportunity to feel his first kicks, first hiccups, hear his first cry and so on. However, the one thing that I have not been able to shake has been the feeling of being overwhelmed and petrified. Again, I understand that this might be completely normal, but it isn’t for me. I’m used to being able to rationalize my feelings and emotions. Something that I’ve had to master since I am overly entuned with my feelings. But with a newborn, it’s impossible. I’ve read books, done countless research, took classes on how to prepare for this, and it wasn’t enough for me. I felt like all along people would tell me just how wonderful giving life to your son/daughter is and how you quickly forget the pain and the frustration when you first see them. While I might have temporarily forgotten the pain, it’s never left my mind. While people might cry at how beautiful it was to feel him come into the world, the entire time I was just praying for just a little bit more strength to push this baby out because I was done. I was over it. No, I didn’t want a mirror to see the head, no I didn’t want to touch his head, no I didn’t want to think about how wonderful it’d be to be a mother. I just wanted it over. After it was, it never ended. Immediately the routine of being exhausted began and it hasn’t ended. An hour after giving birth (to my perfect son) it was time to get up and be moved around and let’s start the breastfeeding, let’s start counting the numerous visits of nurses, the numerous blood draws on my newborn which mean the start of the screaming. I never got a break.

I don’t think that a break is what’s meant to happen, I think it’s just figuring out how to deal with it all. Now, I’m sitting in the dark of my living room, ranting and raving about how frustrated I am with all of this. I know it sounds like I’m taking for granted the miracle that I created, but quite frankly, I don’t care what it sounds like. Again, I reached a point where I felt like crying in a soundproof room in solitude sounded like the best solution, but since we don’t have the pleasure of said room in our 2 bedroom apartment, this is what I can do. No one or nothing could have prepared me or my husband for this. I have always been a control freak, I needed plans, lists, understanding in order to feel whole. That doesn’t happen when you have a baby. Maybe after a few years things might start to function the way you’d want them to. But there’s no way in hell that it’ll happen right now. There’s no way that this baby will understand that I need him to sleep for just a bit while I continue to freak out and my husband gets a few hours of sleep before the next feeding. How in the world does every woman do it? How do the women who are extremely successful have four kids and still manage to look like they have it all under control. Practice? I know. Patience? I know. But when does it play into affect for me. When will i stop feeling so guilty for wanting a couple of hours to myself, feeling guilty for making my husband help me when he gets home after working all day, feeling guilty for not being able to make my baby stop crying in five minutes. When will I be able to have a week where I don’t need to have an outburst in my shower? Then come the why’s. Why did I decide to have a baby? Why didn’t I think about this better? Why did I think that we could just try and see what happens? Why was I so sure that we would just become experts in the first week? When my son was born, why did he have to develop jaundice and be admitted into the NICU? Why didn’t we understand that being in a NICU meant? Why can’t I just be happy that I have my bundle of joy? Why is the thought of having another kid sound like the worlds worst idea? Why does feeling all of this make me feel like i’m a negligent mother?

Oh, if someone tells me that this is all due to post partum, I’ll kick you in the face. I’ll tell you why. I shouldn’t be sitting here making myself feel guilty for all of these feelings. No, I have no intention of hurting myself or my child for that matter. When I look at his screaming face, I fall in love with him all over again. His cries are the most beautiful things (although they can be quite deafening after a while), his need for me gives me purpose, the way he searches the room to try and find me when he hears my voice makes me feel like the most beautiful person in the world. I want to have one kid because I can’t imagine splitting my love for my son with another child. I want to have one kid because I wan’t to be able to give him everything I wanted growing up and more. I want him to grow up having everything he needs (within reason of course. I’m not trying to raise a spoiled brat here).

It is ok for me to feel like this. I love my family. I love my son. He is the best/worst thing that has happened to me. It’s made me realize that I’ve lived in fear for a very long time. That fear has hindered life expereinces, but now, thanks to my son, I know I have that fear. Thanks to my son, I know I can do anything. All it takes is a few deep breaths and not giving up. Reminding myself that “I can do this”. “I can do this” was my mantra during labor and the only thing that kept me going till the end. So whether my hormones are out of wack, whether it’s because I’m tired, I can do this. I know I can because I have to. I have my reason to. My beautiful son. He needs me more than anyone else does in this world. He’s given me a purpose to strive for things I’ve never had the guts to do. I want to show him that his mommy was able to overcome her overly emotional personality and succeed. I can do this. It’s ok for me to feel overwhelmed. It’s ok for me not to make sense. I have the best husband, partner, best friend that I could’ve ever imagined of myself. So there is no reason why I can’t get over this.

I can do this.

I will do this.