What's it like to have 4 kids?

"If you want to know what it's like to have a fourth [baby] just imagine you're drowning... and then someone hands you a baby."
- Jim Gaffigan

an incoherent post by a post partum woman

When I first began blogging I wanted to be honest about things.  Motherhood was tough and I just came right out and said it.  With my fourth baby I will say that motherhood is still tough but the loneliness and sleepless nights are nothing compared to how I feel now.

I always assumed that the older my kids grew the more heartaches I would have.  I did not, however, foresee how short my patience would run, how overwhelmed I would feel, and how I would feel sucked dry by the end of the day.  One of my children loves to chat, to be the center of attention, and to receive heaping amounts of physical affection throughout the day; I like silence and to not touch or be touched.  It is very hard for me to fulfill this child's needs.

Every day I lose my temper.  I say things I shouldn't.  I ignore kids who want me because I really, really don't want to give any more of myself.  Every day I can see how much my kids want my love and approval and at some point every day it is very hard to do that for them.

Recently someone commented that me and my blog are "dumb happy".  I'm not 100% sure what that means, having never heard the expression before, but a Facebook survey amongst my friends says it means "slap happy".  So I guess, at least to one person, I am obnoxiously happy - which is interesting to me because I do not feel that way or even view this blog that way.

I write how I speak.  It may not be very polished and I may frequently end my sentences with prepositions, but I don't care.  This is my voice; this is who I am.

But I no longer feel like I have to be super honest.  I don't want my kids to grow up and have our misbehavior and every feeling of frustration directed at them documented on the internet.  I love, love, love them and I don't want them to ever be embarrassed or hurt by what I type here.  So maybe in the end I come off a little more positive (but I really don't think I do...).  I also think there's great good in representing all the perks of the married life.  Enough people in the world complain about their husbands, put down men, and laugh a little too hard at jokes about drinking hard liquor to get through a day at home with the kids. (Not that there aren't days when I really want a stiff drink.)

I started this blog to share adventures of with friends and family.  Pictures of our cute kids, updates on the house renovation, funny anecdotes from our days would be posted for a smallish group of people who know and love us.  But now there are a couple hundred people who check this blog on a regular basis and I don't know who they are.  I like them (I like you.) and I love it when they comment and email me and share their lives with me, and so now I find myself writing for them, too.  (Jordan on the West Coast, I often write and pray for you.)

For awhile I tried to make this blog something more important than it is.  I thought I should try to grow my readership, write intelligent and insightful things, throw my two cents in along with all the other bloggers.  But now I don't really care about those things.  My pride got the better of me and I became tired trying to be more interesting than I am. 

What am I even saying here?!  Heck if I know.  I guess... just know that
I'm sorry I don't post more often,
I hope you like the dumb songs I post every Friday,
thanks for coming along for the ride,
I hope I really am not obnoxious,
there's nothing wrong with being happy,
this blog isn't important,
honesty is important but so is respecting my family's privacy and showing the good,
I'm probably going to only post 1, 2, or 3 times a week and never on a regular basis except for 7 quick takes,
can you tell that I'm postpartum?

I call this "baby brain".

making peace with attachment parenting

Before I was a mom I was pretty confident that I would be an ap (attachment parenting) mom.  My babies would be in slings, I wouldn't have a nap schedule, we'd probably co-sleep, and I'd do "time-ins" instead of "time outs."  All of this builds confidence in children and promotes "peaceful parenting", as ap-ers would explain.

And then I gave birth. 

I quickly learned that my kid did not like slings, wraps, or anything else carrying her that wasn't my two arms.  I also learned that if I didn't schedule my day - including time for a nap - and have everything at roughly the same time every day my kid would not thrive and I would fall apart.  It didn't take long to realize I did not sleep well with my baby in bed with me.  In fact, I don't sleep well with my babies in the same room as me!  And when I am mad at my child the last thing I want is for anyone to talk to me or touch me.  A time out is beneficial for me, probably more so than my kids.

What I learned is that I don't like a lot of physical touch, something that ap seemed to be pretty big on. 

I did not see any of this coming.

For awhile I tried to fight myself, convinced that what the attachment parents were saying was true:  my children would be stupid, hoarding, serial killers if I didn't wear them in slings, co-sleep, homeschool, never force a nap time, never let them cry for more than 2 minutes.

Of course those weren't their exact words but the tone and body language of most ap moms I knew made me feel like a horrible excuse for a parent and a complete failure of a mother because what worked for them and what nature clearly intends for children to need in order to thrive didn't work for me.

See what I mean?  That language, "what nature clearly intends for children to need in order to thrive;" was some exact words - or variations of - and so of course the ap movement made me feel like crap!  I was very, very hurt.  I was struggling in my role of motherhood and I was especially troubled because I thought it would be so easy.  Yet the very way I was told to parent - the way I was told Nature (and therefore GOD) wanted us to parent - was not how I wanted to parent.  It wasn't working for me.  I became angry and resentful towards a lot of those women, especially when they'd post a link to some study on Facebook, citing how moms who let their kids cry for more than 5 minutes are raising damaged monsters. 

Honestly, I think I got hit harder with all of this because I'm part of two groups (natural-family-planning-practicing Catholics and home birthers) that are a lot more ap then other groups I've encountered, in part because of the big emphasis on breastfeeding. 

Trying to do "peaceful parenting" made me exhausted and worn thin.  So much so that when things didn't go well I would scream my head off, punch the walls, and curse at my kids.  When I tried explaining this to ap-ers I was told to do a "time-in" with my kids, hugging them instead of sending them to time out.  They didn't seem to get it.  And my life, home, and parenting was anything but peaceful.

It took me awhile, but I finally figured out what I need to do to parent my kids successfully.  We have a schedule.  Quiet time/nap time happens at about the same time every day.  I will keep my kids up a little bit longer so all three nap at the same time because I need quiet time, too.  I nurse my kids in a chair in the middle of the night - not in bed.  I introduce a bottle fairly early so I can go out and be by myself. 

I'm sure to some I sound like a horrible, monster of a mother.  But I really need to not touch my kids all day long.  I really need a good hour break in the middle of the day when no one talks to me, hugs me, kisses me, sits on my lap or comes close.  Having these breaks allows me to give plenty of physical affection to my children during the rest of the day.  Maybe it's the introvert in me coming out; whatever it is, it's the way I need it to be. 

I am a better mom for it.  Those breaks are my sanity.  Seriously.

In the end it was figuring out what "peaceful parenting" looked like in my home that made me let go of a lot of the hurt I felt towards the attachment parenting people I know.  I also started telling them how their language made me feel belittled and unfairly judged.  I started discussing with them my experiences in parenting.  And suddenly they started apologizing, empathizing, and explaining things in less polarizing ways. 

Of course there may have been a few fights I picked on Facebook along the way, but I'm pretty embarrassed about those now that my anger is gone.  If you were on the receiving end of my pettiness, I'm sorry!

I do not consider myself a "peaceful parent" - not in the way the attachment parenting movement would explain it.  But I would consider myself a good mom, and so would m thriving, happy, healthy kids.  And that's what matters. 

6 days later

A week ago today I went into labor! Yay!

Here's a few updates about life as a family of four.

- Lydia is a great big sister. She sleeps through his crying at night, points out his body parts (hair, belly, ear), and seems to enjoy the fact that when his diaper is being changed it's not her diaper.

- I'm fighting a small case of mastitis. Yesterday I had a temp of 100.8, chills and sweats and I was very weak and tired. Today I'm feeling much better, but I'm still taking it mighty easy.

- We have been receiving huge amounts of help and support from family and friends, for which we are incredibly grateful. Meals, laundry, babysitting, light cleaning, playing with Lydia, gifts and company - all have been much appreciated and needed.

- Bennet's umbilical cord stump fell off Tuesday night. That fact makes Travis and I very happy because it smelled pretty darn rank. My midwife pointed out, though, that it is a piece of rotting flesh after all.

- Bennet is a MUCH easier baby than Lydia ever was. He cries if he's poopy or hungry. He takes good, long naps. He nurses rather well. He doesn't have to be held all the time. I am very grateful to God for giving me an easy baby and I hope and pray He never gives me a difficult baby again. Surely Lydia was more than enough.

- The weepiness has kicked in, but at this point the baby blues are nothing compared to last time. I cry the most when I'm tired, but I've been a lot more intentional this time around to nap. The first time I cried was actually about Lydia. She was staying with my in-laws the first couple of days of Bennet's life and I missed her and - boom - I was crying.

- Completely not related to my children: Travis and I discovered the old tv show Coach can be watched instantly via Netflix. While watching it they said, "Coach is filmed before a live studio audience. " When I heard those words they felt really nostalgic to me - most of the shows I watched growing up were filmed before a live studio audience (Full House, Home Improvement, etc) but not any more. I started thinking about that and how all the shows I watch now are dramas or cop shows or whatever, but definitely not sitcoms. And if a show is filmed in front of an audience it's American Idol, Jeopardy, etc. Hmmm... I think they should bring back a sitcom. That would make me - get a load of this - happy! :)

It took 6 weeks and watching the movie Juno, but I am now completely, totally, fantasticly in head-over-heels in love with my daughter. I am certain she is the cutest thing ever, with her cooing and smiling, and every little thing. I have been wooed.

Thank God!

PS - You all were right. It did get better.

Will I do another home birth?

A lot of people have asked me if I'll do another home birth after how hard the first one was. (Some people seem to think that the obvious answer is "No" as they seem kinda smug when they ask, as they just knew I'd be begging for an epidural when things got hard.)

But I intend to plan a home birth for my second child just like I did for Lydia.

After 5 weeks of reflection this is what I've come to see:

- I am still glad I never had to transition from home to hospital and back again.
- I would not want to have changed anything that would have changed the role Travis played at the birth.
- From 11am-1pm on Saturday (the day Lydia was born) I was in a lot of pain and I did tell Travis I wanted an epidural, hell - I wanted that baby cut out of me - I didn't care - just end the pain. But that was during the stage of labor called the transition, the hardest part for every woman. It is at that point that many women will cry, say they can't do it, ask for an epidural, and just want it to all be over with. This is not a sign of weakness in me or any other woman - it's just the way it is.
- I went into labor Friday night at 7, yet 12 hours of intense contractions later I had not dilated. Also, any labor over 20 hours is considered a complicated labor (and mine was 21). Travis and I chose a home birth because we didn't want to be in a hospital setting where they might want to intervene with drugs, which always increases your chances of fetal distress and c-sections. Based on what I've read and heard, I believe it's very likely hospital staff would have wanted to give me drugs to speed up my labor. I'm glad I did not have to make decisions or face any kind of pressure.
- The care I have received from the women who attended my home birth has been amazing, and is unlike anything I would have received from an ob/gyn (especially the one I was seeing when I began my pregnancy). I am especially grateful to my caregivers as they were very good about checking in with me and being available throughout the very difficult baby blues.

And most importantly:

- More and more I can appreciate what I did and what that means about who I am and what I'm made of. Going into it, I thought labor and birth would be the most amazing thing I'd ever do. Some people climb mountains, run marathons or go skydiving to challenge themselves and their bodies. But who needs Mt. Everest when I can deliver a child - just as my body was designed to do, and just as God wants me to (meaning my vocation as a mother). That was my opinion while pregnant, but after my hard birth I felt a bit duped. However, the more I've thought and prayed about it, the more I've come back to the original thought. I'm proud of what I did and that the decisions I made were in the best interest of me and my baby. And I've come to see that strength is shown in how well we do in our weakest moments. And I did pretty damn well.

Motherhood

Here's the update:
Things are a lot better.

Lydia seems to be over her colicky phase (thank God!). I'm not sure if she ever was colick or if we were just clueless, but maybe it was a bit of both. We have begun to feed her right away at the first sign of fussiness and before we do anything else. (ie - bathtime is after a feeding now) When she's full she's a lot happier.

Lydia is also more alert, coos and ahhs, looks deep into your eyes and really smiles. All of this makes her a lot more fun to read to and play with. She likes voices, songs, dancing and bells. She still is pretty demanding when it comes to wanting to be held a lot, but when she's snugly, smiling and sweet it's a lot more enjoyable. :)



Some friends of mine had their baby girl last week. Looking at pictures of their little Bridget makes me realize how much Lydia has already grown and changed. She's so big now.

I also realized that I really did not enjoy when she was that little. I don't know if I have a single positive memory from when she was so tiny and new. Many, many people told me to enjoy her when she was so small, but how was I supposed to do that when I was exhausted, overwhelmed, sad, angry and even resentful at times? I was surviving. There was no time to stop and smell the roses. But looking at newborn Bridget makes me wish I could have enjoyed her more. (But please note I said could, not would.)



With the baby blues behind me now, and Lydia easier to work with, I am now finding my way in this world of being a stay at home mom. Cooking, baking, cleaning, napping, reading, writing long overdue Thank You's - all of this is fitting back into my life, which makes me feel so much more normal. I've also met a mom with a 2 month old and 2 year old. They live down the street from us and also go to St. Luke's. I'm thrilled. My life is becoming more and more what I pictured it would be.

Many Thanks

Over the past month I have shared many of the struggles of being a new mom on this blog and I have been blessed by numerous comments left by a variety of women, offering me support, encouragement, empathy, advice and prayers. I am so grateful for you and the things you've said. It's really good to not feel so alone - all of this can make a woman feel crazy.

So to
Audrey
Anna
Tonya
Mary
Laura
Lisa
Cindy
Alicia
Rosie
and
Mia

THANK YOU AND GOD BLESS YOU FOR YOUR KINDNESS.

Thank God for Mom & Cooks

Things are beginning to level out a bit. There will be a super bad day (like yesterday, let's say) but it will be sandwiched between two good days. But the bad days are still pretty stressful.

That's why I am so grateful for the friends and family who have provided dinners for Travis and I and to my mom, who has spent the night and many days with me and Lydia. The more I sleep the better I feel and Mom's presence allows me to nap more.

***********************************

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a stay at home mom. I was always a great babysitter - I cooked, cleaned and the kids loved me. So I thought that the whole SAHM thing would be easy for me. I pictured myself with a tidy home, dinner ready for Travis and happy children. (I also pictured myself thinner.)

Because I had the natural knack for mothering, and I feel it's my vocation, I thought this would be so much easier. I was duped. About a week ago, as I lay in bed, I thought to myself, "I don't remember praying for humility." But that is what I've gotten. My pride and dignity have gone out the window time and time again: milk soaking my shirts, poop all over, crying I cannot console, a boob poking out while I'm burping a fussy Lydia, and on top of it all I can't shower or brush my teeth until 11 usually. And when I'm low on sleep the crying is much more likely to not only begin, but continue for hours. (I'm talking about myself crying, not my daughter.)

It is amazing how such a tiny person can make me feel so unsure, incapable and frustrated.

But man, does it feel wonderful when she snuggles up to me.

Report from a mother of a 2 week old

I am so tired of breastfeeding and crying and changing diapers. I am not tired of sleeping.

People keep telling me this will get easier but I am beginning to believe that all people lie. My experience is that it gets harder. Every day.

I am the Promised Land...

... minus the honey. But, oh, how the milk is flowing.

Lydia is now 12 days old and I thought I'd give a quick fill in on what's been happening since the birth.

There have been some struggles with breastfeeding. Lots of pain and soreness, followed by Lydia not taking the right breast, followed by engorgement. Thank God for Kim, who attended the birth and is with La Leche League. She's paid us 2 home visits and we've finally figured things out. I'm pumping the right breast until it heals up a bit and Lydia grows a little bigger.


However, even with her feeding on just one breast she is definitely getting enough milk! She has plenty of dirty diapers and, even more impressive, she's growing! Doctors want babies to have regained to their birth weight by two weeks. Lydia had gained almost a full pound by day 10.

******************

I'm still reflecting a lot on the birth. Overall, I would say it was a lot worse than I ever thought it would be. I'm still glad I did a home birth, because there were so many perks to being at home: the women who attended me, the role Travis played, the comfort I felt being home, not having to transition to the hospital and then home again. Plus, because it was such a difficult labor who knows how it could have turned out had we been in the hospital. Would I have ended up taking an epidural? Would that have led to complications? Would I have been one of the 31% of women who have a c-section? But if I'm going to be honest, I have to confess that the pain I went through in labor was the most horrible thing I've ever experienced in my life.

These past two weeks have been a bit of an emotional roller coaster and I have been struggling with the "baby blues" a lot. Things are getting better, especially since we've worked out some of the breastfeeding issues, and I've been able to delight in my daughter a lot more.

She really is a cute, sweet little booger. Even when she's pooping. :)