A List of Thoughts from my Fourth Month of Motherhood
Some thoughts on motherhood, from my fourth month of being a mother.
I’d never picked someone else’s nose before. That’s no longer true.
Sick babies truly are the saddest thing in the world. They look so pathetic and they have no idea what’s happening to them or why and they look at you with giant eyes like “Why are you allowing this?” and it’s awful.
Leo started sleeping 12+ hours a night and everything was glorious for 3 days…until she got sick and has been waking up every 2-3 hours at night again. Knowing you were SO close to good sleep and then regressing is way worse than thinking you’ll never get sleep again. I had it. And I lost it. And I miss it.
Christmas with a baby is fun, even when they sleep through it, because that means I get to open twice as many gifts (and I probably get more excited about hers than mine).
I’ve learned that everything’s ok if she’s ok. Our house situation is a mess, my car’s breaking down, but none of it feels like a huge deal as long as she’s fine. It’s weird. Things that would’ve absolutely rocked my world just don’t bother me as much. I mean, they still bother me, don’t get me wrong, just not AS much.
I experienced my first “I promise this is good for you even though you hate it.” I assume this will continue throughout her life so I should probably get used to it.
A 4 month old baby’s grip is surprisingly strong, especially when tested against handfuls of hair, earrings, and nostrils.
So much poop. But only every few days. That’s how they trick you. You’re lulled into a false sense of security after 2 days of clean diapers and then BAM! Poop everywhere.
My anxiety is not nearly as bad as I expected it to be. It’s either a miracle from God or the Zoloft. Or God’s miracle IS the Zoloft. Either way…
I don’t understand why people want their kids to develop early. I’d be fine if she didn't get teeth until she’s 2 or walk until she’s 3. Right now she just sits where I put her. And if I leave and come back, she’s still there. I appreciate that kind of consistency.
Sometimes, when she's sleeping in her car seat, I think she looks like a goomba from Mario. Does that make me a bad mom?
Babies have a lot of stuff. You think “she’s so tiny, what could she need?” and “I’ll be one of those parents who’s a minimalist. She doesn’t need all those extra things!” Lies. I need all the things.
I’m becoming more ok with my post-human growing body. I’d love to say it’s because I learned to accept and love myself and that I’m in awe of what my body was capable of but honestly, I think I’m just too tired to care anymore. I’ve got other things to worry about, my extra fat doesn’t even make the top 10.
People told you about postpartum hair loss and you may have been cocky enough to think “I have so much thick hair, it won’t bother me at all if I lose some! I won’t even notice.” But then you only lose hair in one place on your head and end up with a weird bald spot and the cockiness is replaced with sad humility.
Baby giggles are like crack. I’m hooked and my dealer is a very finicky, occasionally ticklish dictator who knows she holds all the power.
I still hate spit up.