Things I Have Learned Since Becoming a Mother (all three-ish months of it)

All night your moth-breath 
Flickers among the flat pink roses. 
I wake to listen: A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral 
In my Victorian nightgown. Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. 
The window square 

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try 
Your handful of notes; 
The clear vowels rise like balloons. 

-Sylvia Plath


"Morning Song" doesn't seem like such a sad poem anymore. She's struggling, and tired, but her disconnectedness starts to improve and her tone softens by the end. She ends with balloons, for goodness' sake. Good for her.
 
I can understand the strangeness she describes. Everything feels new and strange. My body feels strange. Normal society looks different. How does everyone else run errands and talk to each other and accomplish things?

If you expect it to be beautiful and easy, you're in for a rough time. If you expect it to be a rough time, it's beautiful and wonderful, and it's also a rough time.

Single parents are other-worldly super-human beings who deserve our reverence. And paid days off.

Sometimes breastfeeding doesn't help the baby weight.

That first moment of seeing my baby really is as close as I've come to seeing God.

The idea that life is a gift feels more real to me now. It's a gift, but it's not a gift you just unwrap and smile at.  It's fought for. That whole birth thing takes you to the brink of your mortality, the trembling point where life could begin or end. I realized we have all fought hard to be here...HARD.

I can pray for our long, happy, healthy lives every day. But life is not in my control. It's only because of God that I get to exist at all, and to have the opportunity to hold this baby.

There is an underground war going on about infant sleep. There are basically two sides: those who believe in "sleep training" (often known as crying it out), and those who think you're a terrible person if you let your baby cry it out. The sheer vastness of books and blogs and opinions on sleep is overwhelming. The more I read, the more confused I get.

Or maybe I'm just confused because I'm sleep-deprived. OH RIGHT, we're all sleep-deprived. That's why everyone's fighting the underground war!

I went back to work because I had to, but I stayed back to work because I love it. Doing therapy makes me feel more whole. I'm afraid to admit that I might not be cut out to be a stay-at-home mom.

Babies need dialectical behavior therapy just like all of us. For example, some things will calm her down when she's at a 5 on the Richter Scale that won't calm her when she's at a 10. At a 5, I might swaddle and shush and sing or whatever. At a 10, only the boob will do.

Another example: we all benefit from accepting the co-existence of contradictions. She can be tired and wound up. Breastfeeding is wonderful and difficult. She is the most amazing thing in the universe and I love her more than I could imagine, and could someone else please take her for a bit?

As Ti would say, "Be there for the experience of it." And just look at that little face.