When my mom past away, I did pretty well the first few months. Perhaps I was in denial. Perhaps it just took a long time to process what exactly happened and what my new reality was. For whatever reason, it took a long time for my grief to hit its peak. I don’t know how many months it was after the fact, but I remember thinking, “I should be over this by now, or at least know how to cope.”
I sort of felt this way towards motherhood this week. I have been having a rough time lately. I feel like the proverbial well is running dry. Some of this comes from not getting enough sleep with the added exhaustion when dealing with a discontented baby during the day. (We are teething again! Forever! And Ever!) The pervasive tiredness makes it difficult for me to take care of myself both physically and spiritually which further depletes said proverbial well. I found myself thinking “I should be getting the hang of this by now. What is freaking wrong with me!?”
And then.....I came to realize the ugly truth: I will never get the hang of this. Not really. It is like grief. Yes, the pain dulls over time, but it is still there. You have your good days and your bad days. This realization sent me collapsing onto the couch and pleading with the husband to just end it already. Because honestly? I can’t really fool myself that it is going to get any easier. Each stage from here to eternity brings its own challenges. It makes me question why I signed up for this gig.
But those crazy hormones....they are tricky little chemicals. I could have written a post just the other day about how I want another baby. How babies are so wonderful, marvelous, stupendous, etc., etc. Even now, as Finn (yes, Finn!) sleeps peacefully in his crib, I am already starting to forget the exhausting day that I just had. “Was it really that bad? Yes, I know that I am about to pass out while typing this post, but it was manageable, right? I could probably handle another baby at some point.”
Sanity and motherhood. I guess they don’t mix.