I told myself I’d sit down and write whatever came out.
She isn’t even asleep yet. I put her in the crib, stuck a pacifier in her mouth, and killed the lights. I kissed her on the head and took the computer out of the case and opened it before I could change my mind. There are the tabs on safari from the last time I used this. Don’t let them lure you, I said to myself, and I clicked on Word. Of course my laptop memory is totally full so everything takes 100 years to load, and while waiting for a blank page to open, the baby monitor is screaming at me.
Pacifier reloaded. My baby has a
Baby monitor goes off again.
My baby has a flat spot on the back left side of her head. It is some medical sounding word that reminds me of a dinosaur name, which is fitting because when I googled it the images of worst case scenario manifestations looked not too dissimilar from some of the skulls I’ve seen in the natural history museum. Ever since I noticed it, around her 7th week of life, I felt a pit of doom in my stomach. That’s a little bit of an exaggeration but I don’t have time to find a more accurate cliché than that and still get through some amount of writing that feels satisfying.
Pacifier break.
I tried a few shhhhushes this time. We’ll see if it worked.
Nope.
20 minutes of nursing and 22 minutes of social media and news scrolling later, because what else can you do with your non-dominant hand free, I put her back down. I guess she was hungry. So I fed her before her nap instead of sleeping her after play time, so basically I screwed up the “schedule” I am desperately attempting to get her on now that I’ve reached the point of deep seated fatigue from eight weeks of night awakenings. I remember this with my first kid too…right at eight weeks I shifted from enthusiastic and confident to anxious, angry and desperate. Only right before bed though, which I feel obligated to tell you so you don’t worry that I’m home alone with my baby all day feeling that way. I am not at risk of shaking my baby or anything. God it’s weird trying to write about how you feel having a baby while considering an audience. Fuck it.
I’m not going to shake my baby. I will, however, give up in the evenings sometimes and tell Jesse to “just figure it out” because “I’ve tried everything” and “I don’t fucking know what she wants” and “I don’t care anymore.” In the moment I really don’t care. The crying doesn’t mean anything; it loses its sting. Again, all things I remember from the first time around. Eventually I just get so tired that bedtime is something I both crave and dread. I’m desperate for the sleep, and also so aware that I will get it in the 2-3 hour chunks used to torture people during wartime.
I think she actually went to sleep this time, based on the fact that I just wrote an entire two paragraphs and almost forgot there was a real baby behind this act of losing myself in the typed words on a page. God I missed this. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to write. Every couple days of new motherhood there are seismic shifts inside me, things I want to capture with words in order to fully comprehend and enjoy, because that is what writing does for me. But I can’t write. Or don’t. Mostly because I can’t bear the thought that as soon as I get in my groove it will be prematurely ended mid-flow. In the moment of deciding what to do as I find myself temporarily free, I have decided it’s better to not write at all than attempt to and be disappointed. Sounds like “better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” is advice I should transpose for this experience. So now I’m typing, I’m actually writing…is it better than not doing it at all?
I mean, I won’t have time to finish this, for sure. I won’t have time to edit it. I won’t have time to develop any of the deeper ideas I stumble upon, if I ever get to the point where I stumble upon anything. I very well might just end up with stream of consciousness garbage, which I guess will be the best indicator of all of what it’s like to be a writer with a newborn in the house. How fitting.
I hear her grunting. I find my mind being pulled from this page while I will myself to continue typing. I don’t think she will wake all the way up, but I can’t be sure. Do I soldier on? Fight to keep my mind in the depths of this? Or do I let it float all the way back up to this room, this house, and the baby. This paragraph has taken me six times as long to type as the previous one because I am wrestling with that very thing as I type.
I’m trying to just keep the fingers moving on the keyboard, to use my time for quantity not quality, to just write it all out. That was a waste of a sentence.
Part of what I hate about motherhood is the pulling apart of myself. Last night I was explaining to Jesse, (after telling him I give up and figure it out, after he got her to sleep by having me attempt nursing for the 18th time, this time successfully)…and now I’m losing my story…ok right, the pulling apart of motherhood. I was explaining that I was finding my groove enough with the baby and my time off to be able to start dreaming again, getting my own ideas, feeling some personal drive, and wanting to start working a bit. It is now manageable enough that I can have someone watch her for 2-3 hours while I write, or plan my Wilder retreats for 2018, or whatever else. But just deciding I’m ready sets up these two competing forces: life with baby, life without, and I instantly feel guilt. Figuring out how to balance the two again is overwhelming. I find myself escaping to the extremes like “fuck it! I’ll just quit all my pursuits!” or “fuck it! I’ll just go back full time 9-5 and set up day care tomorrow!” Both of those would be fine options, but that’s not the reality of my career or life. I work for myself. I can have a more creative schedule that allows me to be home for certain kid things, like some legos before Jude heads to afternoon preschool, or having the flexibility to make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and delay my work day an hour. I had such a good groove going prior to this new baby. I’m ready for my groove again, but the old groove no longer fits. I need to make a new one. And making one is painful when you feel pulled so many directions.
God, I’m bored writing this, you must be bored to hell reading it, if you’re even still reading. I really don’t want to write about motherhood. I don’t have the answers. I was hoping I could write my way to some answers, but I don’t think that is in the cards. And even though the baby is fully deeply asleep and likely will be for thirty more minutes or more, I don’t even feel like writing anymore. I went down the only subject I had time to think of in this moment, and it was a dead end, and there isn’t really time to start over. Well, technically there is, but again, here I face the same dilemma: what is worse? Starting to write about something else and being interrupted right when it gets interesting? Or not writing at all?
Or what else can I do with this (maybe) 30 minutes? It’s been 3 days since I’ve had a shower. I think I’ll do that.
Nevermind, she’s up.
Thank you for writing this and for publishing it.
That piece was an amazing use of your previous 30 minutes. I can completely identify with the frustration that your hard earned groove doesn’t fit any more and the guilt, oh that guilt 🙄. Keep writing and we’ll keep reading and nodding along. Siobhan (Ireland)
Oops precious not previous !
I found this very moving. It made me feel anxious and bleak, but also left me aching for motherhood in a weird way. It seems so terrible and hard but also otherworldly. And so raw. It seems like running.
I love this comment. I’m a new mom and ached for motherhood (infertility made me feel like I’d never experience it). It is otherworldly, that is such a great word to describe how this feels.
Thank you for this raw and honest reflection of where you are! I’m at the very early stages of the whole journey of motherhood and by far the most daunting aspect is the interruption in my life and loosing my “groove”. My semi-selfish concerns about the lack of workout time, the reduced ability to pick up and go on an adventure, etc. are at the front of my mind. It is refreshing to read your writing; to me it shows that it is NORMAL to feel this way, and that there is nothing wrong with feeling defeated at times. Thank you again for sharing your experience!
Lauren, you wrote and published this at the exact time I needed to read it. I’m a mom to a newborn too (my first) and you articulated (beautifully, and in public) what I’ve been feeling in private for weeks. My babe is a sweet one who also sleeps in the most maddingly short spurts and I’m eleven weeks into a yearlong maternity leave. On the one hand — how lucky am I to be able to take a whole year off to raise this little person? On the other hand — I was freaking good at my previous life and happy with it. And now I’m home all day, desperately bouncing a baby and wondering whether my new life will satisfy me as my old life did. I snap at my husband too and feel guilty for wanting some of my old life — running marathons, professional success — back. But it is comforting to know that even you — far more accomplished than I, and a second time mama to boot — shares some of these anxieties and frustrations. Thank you for sharing this with everyone (though I imagine it was written just for me)
Hi Lauren,
I’m still reading, nodding along the entire way. I used to strap the baby in the bouncer in the bathroom so I could take a shower. Now my baby is 19 months and I’m just starting to crack open a few books again, something I avoided for a long time because there was no time to finish a newspaper article, much less a book. Only wanted to say that it helped me to do whatever I thought might make me feel more like myself in those 20-30 minutes.
Please keep writing and sharing.
Yes yes yes. A million times yes. Rose (Wetzel) and I talk about writing this very blog.
It’s sad that when I mention the trials and tribulations of parenthood, plus the “self-employed so I’m always around and I have zero time to do anything other than be a parent” part, people look at me as if I’m not doing enough to live up to the platitudes every wants to hear. It’s great, Sure. No question.
But, fuck…
Btw, I typed that with my right thumb while holding my phone in my right hand, with the white noise app blaring and Baby Taylor sleeping in my left arm. Pardon typos, incorrect words, lack of well thought out ideas, poor grammar, etc
Lauren,
You read my mind. Every. Single. Word. You read my mind…and you also time travelled because I thought that stuff almost 10 years ago. It was so overwhelming a feeling that I could not see myself having another child. Ever.
So we didn’t.
Now I have more sleep and more relative “free” time but more guilt than anyone will ever know.
Thank you for your honesty.
I remember those days. Even as they get older, there’s this constant reinventing of myself as a mother, a woman, a person with dreams and goals. But, the baby years, those are fucking hard. The constant nursing, lack of self-care, no sleep. You’re not alone. It’s like being in the trenches. Showers are key. Seriously.
Yes. All of this! I came upon this while scrolling Instagram with my non dominant hand while nursing my 3 month old daughter. She also has a slight flat spot that I noticed at 7 weeks. I had tremendous guilt over itfeared she would need a helmet and just basically felt like a failure about it. But, it’s getting better! Time in the ergo, rotating what end of the bassinet she sleeps on and tummy time (which she HATES) is all helping!
Anywho, your post is basically my life. We got this!😀
Through our family’s little baby years I remember wishing someone could climb in my head to write down all of my scrambled thoughts. I hoped there were some good ones that the girls would cherish knowing when they got older but honest to God I just wanted the swirling to stop. Now I know it was the exhaustion, but I figured all that shit was just normal and I had to deal with it. I’ve been in awe of all you have already done since Zadie’s birth while also wanting to tell you to be very gentle with yourself. You will get back to where you need to be-creatively, physically, emotionally. Now, though, please please be gentle with yourself. Giving voice to these really hard times and hearing from so many others that they experienced the same has to give you some comfort.
Thank you for this. I have a seven month old and I’m finally hitting the wall of being tired and anxious and scattered. I’m ready to find the part of me that isn’t a mother again, even if she’s different than before.
Just the most refreshing read today. Thank you for being real. I’m a mom of two tiny humans and a runner. I get this 100%. God, just hang in there.
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
Pete Seeger and the Book of Ecclesiastes
Enjoy these rare prescious moments.
I feel you grabbed some of my exact thoughts feelings and emotions from when my now teenagers were babies! Enjoy those glimpses of things feeling normal and getting into your groove, eventually it will happen more often. Thanks for sharing your story motherhood with 2 young children is amazing and maddening all at once. You are a strong, confident, amazing well balanced person. I always knew you would be an awesome mom! I have to laugh because as Katherine sends off college applications all around the country I know soon I will wish for those “baby days” because she will be launching out there in the world. Your nights are long, your days are long and I feel like mine are evaporating before my eyes. Hang tough you got this!
I’m 8 months in and still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Thanks for publishing your mom-of-a-newborn-nonsense that makes all the sense in the world to those of us who have lived in that space before.
I can totally relate. I have a 5 year old little girl and we had our groove. My son was born in August and I mourned my alone time with her and our groove. My son is now 3.5 months. I went back to work and survived my first work travel away from home. I did miss him rolling over for the first time and felt horribly. You know what he is smiling now and even giggling. Bed times are easier. I try the Eat play schedules too but he just likes to eat too much! I am enjoying him so much more now. You are almost there…to just a little bit better place. Hang in there.. if you need to go back to work to make you better when you are “on” do it. The only one judging you is you. The baby will love you.
It’s hard to feel like you are losing yourself but you aren’t. You are just putting more legos in your soul.
Not to worry or feel guilt, a groove is not to be forced. My kids were before the baby monitor revolution and I believe you can turn it off and let her tell you when she really needs you. Best advice my doctor gave me was that crying is good for a babies lung development. 🤔 Take care, take a shower, brush your teeth and visualize a baby with strong lungs! #thenextAdele
Truth on a page. I’ve been here exactly. Every mother has. My 3 girls are now 8, 14, and 17. I am no longer desperate for me-time, sleep, or uninterrupted thoughts. I do, however, face other challenges… a call from my 14 year old from the gym locker room at school, eager for advice on how to handle a “friend” that embarrassed her in class, tears over the break up of a first “love,” worry over SAT/ ACT scores and whether they will be good enough to truly reflect the intelligence that I, as Mom, know is there. I fret about fitting 6 out-of-town weekend Gymnastics meets into an already busy fall season, how we will adjust to her new schedule of 16 hours of practice in the new year as two working parents with our own hectic personal lives of running marathons (Ironman and tri’s for the hubster). I have never been craft Mom. I hate imaginative play and shudder at playing “Barbies.” I have never attended a single PTO meeting at their school. And yet… I get greater pleasure in seeing their talents emerge than I do my own. I get glimpses of amazing maturity I am not expecting from them and it gives me chill bumps that we are doing this parenting thing right. I can see the light at the end of the proverbial light, the one that i thought would never get here when they were babies, and I wonder if I am ready for it, to release them into the world without me. It’s a weird thing, this motherhood journey. At times it’s sucks, Lauren. Truly. But while you are growing, molding, and shaping these little humans, they are also growing, molding, and shaping you. It is worth it. At almost 44 years old, I can tell you, it was worth every sleepless night, every interrupted thought, every sacrifice.
I stumbled on this at 6am, after having been up alternatingly with my four week old and my four year old. So I can identify with everything! I’m impressed you got your baby down for a nap in the crib at all. I still hold mine or do naps in the carrier. You are making more progress than you maybe realize 🙂 We’ll be back to our old routines soon, let’s try to cherish these days in spite of the lack of sleep. 🙂
Lauren,
Well written! You will survive this…. although sleep deprivation is very real and nursing can be exhausting.
Does your baby have Torticolis? Mine did… consult a specialist and they will recommend exercises or a temporary “helmet” or sorts to work this out. Your journaling about this time in your life will provide you some relief and reassurances to other moms that what they r going through is normal. Seek support and help from other women who are in the same phase of life. Try to eat and sleep and connect with another nursing woman even if for only 30 minutes ! You are maintaining a life with your own body and you should be very proud of all that you have accomplished! Keep going, you can do it! But ask for help along the way.
you are awesome. I met your hub at the running event (I’m a Picky rep) and that was basically what we talked about– kids and sleep (I have 2 kids 2 years apart) …. kids and sleep and kids and sleep… kids and sleep….it haunts me even now as mine are 3 and 5… you are doing an amazing job and I love your writing and appreciate all the time your honesty… I wish you had written this when I was in the newborn stage but it’s still with me and you have my empathy and cheerleading… thank you Lauren and you are freaking awesome for putting this piece together — you produced some good writing.
This is my life. My kids are both older now, but they don’t sleep, I work full time, I have my own dreams, and I can’t make it happen! I try so hard to fit it all in, to sleep, to run, to volunteer, to clean, and I feel like I’m succeeding and then I get the 8 millionth cold brought home from kindergarten, or I fail miserably because I run out of time. Thank you for writing this. It almost made me cry because I understand the pulling apart so well.
I can fully relate to where you are right now. My wife had our second baby, a girl to match our firstborn boy like you, in February and it was really hard for the awesome groove we had to get thrown out the window. Gone were the days of whoever woke up with him that day getting that night off. No more being able to go wherever, whenever because there was no longer a nap schedule to work around. The efficiency of the day was gone. It didn’t help that I started grad school this fall and the commute is long. So now we have a groove, but I have no time to myself to workout and no drive to either. It’s hard and some days I’m very much in the “I don’t fucking know what she wants.” But it helps knowing that even a former pro runner and business owner feels the same way I do. I know I’ll miss these moments when they’re done, but if I could fast forward a couple of years, I probably would to skip the bottle mixing, diaper changing, and all of that annoying stuff.
That couldn’t have been better if you had planned it and edited it. What is writing if not a way to share your perspective? I loved it.
I totally agree, Muna!!
This blog is to mommy-ness what the thigh cheese blog was body. Thanks for the real, and the process, and the struggle. You are such a force. And your babies are the luckiest – no matter how the pull shakes out and how much time you have physically together or physically away from them, they are so lucky to have a mama who is so unbelievably thoughtful in how SHE lives for her heart as well as theirs. No matter where the new groove lands, your babies have a momma who values authenticity, process, and commitment to your own excellence – all babies should be so fortunate.
Lauren — I am so thankful that you wrote this and even more thankful to all the mamas commenting. We are such a freaking tribe! Just today I said (perhaps snapped a little – guilty) to my husband that I don’t quite know why people venture down this path, even though I’m nearly 9 months into motherhood and it’s not like I can give up now! The loss of sense of self is maddening and the guilt that comes along with wanting just FIVE FREAKIN MINUTES to yourself is maddening and the big gummy (plus 5 teeth) smiles you get are maddening, but the oh-dear-me-that’s-the-best-thing-I’ve-ever-seen kind of maddening.
Are you finding any of the anxieties of new motherhood less this time around now that you know some of the rather challenging – hello sleep deprivation and nursing 24/7 – times end? I know I’d like to have a second child eventually, but I am also suuuuuuuuper anxious about the idea of doing all of that again!
So, so, so, SO spot on. Thank you for sharing this stream of words!! The new groove will come. Soak in these sweet precious times when she is so little and snuggled up next to you. Time goes even faster with two!! And keep handing her off to someone else to figure it out too. They will!
Dude….I want to tell you how spot on this is but my brain doesn’t work anymore. I’d give you a high five if I could and thank you for saying “fuck it” and publishing this. I’m 12 weeks in.
This was so poignant and right on that it made me cry at work. 21 months later with a human who has never managed to work out sleeping more than 2-3 hour chunks except very occasionally, I still feel like I’m trying to find my groove as a creative, intelligent person who is also a mother and sleep-deprived and ambitious and nurturing. It’s such a complex and wrought journey, and I still have absolutely no concept of where it will unfold or when I will arrive.
Thank you for writing, and thank you for sharing. It’s refreshing. <3 And PS, I think you're freaking amazing wearing all the different hats you wear.
Right on the money. My son is 16 months old, but this piece took me right back to how I felt when he was a tiny baby who needed me constantly. I was somewhat happy to read this to know that every mom has to deal with this, but at the same time, the whole thing made me feel that distinct anxiousness associated with having a new baby.
I finally found my groove…it took a lot longer than I had anticipated…but so has everything since I’ve had my kid. As Brandi Carlile put it…the beauty and the terror of being a mom… Google her song “the mother” and try to find a live performance, her intro to the song is perfect.
As a dad with his child-rearing days behind him, I can relate to your struggles and frustrations. It’s all part of the process that goes along with the rewarding times that you’d trade nothing in the world for…and if I had to choose the one thing I could tell all parents in your position, it would be to consider that before you know it, the kids will be out of the house, on their own, and you’ll be looking back and missing this time in your life. You’re dong quite well, it seems…
doing quite well…
Thank you for publishing this! We don’t share these feelings enough with each other and that can be isolating . Motherhood breaks us down to build us up into something new and I’m hoping it’s a stronger version. Your train of thought is relatable and I needed to read this.
Very well written article.
This is lovely. Motherhood is humbling. Sleep deprivation is literally torture. You got this.
Oh, this post is a great support for all moms. I with my first child was a very restless mother who listened to the baby’s breathing all night.
Ahhh such a good post. I have a three month old and he’s just now beginning to sleep for one four hour stretch at night. I can identify with all this, except I’m only doing it for the first time, I don’t know how I’ll bring myself to do it a second. I feel like I’m finding my groove, working while he’s asleep and running consistently with a jogging stroller, but still 90% of my time and energy goes straight to him. This is also the most rewarding thing ever and I’d never thought I’d love him as much as I do, or that one little smile could make my heart burst. But holy shit it’s hard.
Doing/writing is always better than not doing/writing. Keep pushing!