Well well well, you couldn’t wait to get home from the hospital to introduce your baby to his new home.
The first couple days are fine; the baby wakes up every couple hours throughout the night and you’re still having afterpains, but that’s OK because you have a few pain killers left that the DR prescribed you.
And then. Just like that.
Life gets real.
The baby gets real.
He shows you the true side to him. The screaming. The feeding. The peeing, the pooping. All of it.
And then suddenly,
You miss being in the hospital, where you didn’t have to cook your own meals and someone brought the baby to the nursery overnight so you could get a FULL nights rest.
‘Cus let’s face it. None of us are getting enough sleep.
NONE OF US. It doesn’t matter if it’s Daddy’s night to wake up with the baby. You’re still waking up to the sound of that cry. Your sleep is still getting interrupted. But whatever. We deal with it ‘cus we’re beautiful, strong, amazing, AWESOME moms.
Plus, 4 hours is all you need when there’s coffee… (said nobody ever)
Unless, of course,
You have a colicky baby.
Or a baby who is suffering from reflux.
Or a terrible-two toddler (I’m scared).
Now we’re dealing with some s***.
Now we’re throwing toys across the room because the baby is screaming because he’s STARVING, but he won’t eat because WHO KNOWS (Like, really, nobody truly knows what’s wrong with their baby when they’re crying. Why hasn’t anyone invented a baby translator?! You know how much easier it would be for us!!???*end rant*).
When the baby finally eats for you and falls asleep, you realize it’s 3PM and you haven’t eaten a single thing all day. But guess what, you can’t even eat anything now because it will make too much noise.
Ugh. But I’m hungry. But it will be too loud. But I’m going to starve do death. But. But. But. But it doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t have let your baby fall asleep in the kitchen. Amateur. UGH.
Ok, now try to go out in public by yourself with your baby. You think to yourself: It’s going to be fine. It’s his nap time so he’ll sleep the whole time and if not, he’s such a happy baby, so he’ll be happy to be out of the house.
Wrong. Again. But now it’s too late. You’ve already committed yourself and drove 15 minutes to the mall. So, you try your best. You fumble trying to make his bottle in the middle of the mall while he’s screaming. His crying makes everything harder. And you’re alone. And embarrassed.
And like, why are we even embarrassed? It’s a baby crying because that’s what they do. It’s literally how they communicate. So why do we feel embarrassed?
I’ll tell you why. Because of all of those a**h&/^s that look at you and shake their head, or have the nerve to say “the mall is no place for a baby”. Like omg. Shut the Ef up. We get it. You don’t have a screaming baby, and I do. I hate you.
And after all that, you have about had it, so you leave. You leave the mall that took 15 mins to get to and you only spent 20 mins inside.
Wasn’t that fun?
Look, this is only the beginning of the daily struggles. I could write 100 separate posts about how tough this job is- and maybe someday I will- but for now, I’m just going to leave this here.