The last 24 hours have been HARD.
I mean, really freaking hard.
I’ve only known my daughter for about 3 weeks now, but sometimes it feels like we have a rhythm established. I feel like I have some semblance of a clue why she is crying.
Then she throws us off. It’s not a diaper change, food, or seemingly comfort she’s after. And in those moments – when she is shrieking so loudly and violently that she sends herself into a coughing fit – I feel like the most inadequate parent. I feel like some dummy in a slapstick comedy who cant react quickly enough and fumbles around until something works by chance.
And then I cry.
I cant even say that no one told me that it would be this hard.
But everyone also told me pregnancy was hard, and I skated through it effortlessly with only a few small bumps in the road, so I guess I (mistakenly) figured I’d have this “mom thing” on lock down as well. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong.)
Motherhood is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do (which says a lot because work through me quite a few curveballs this year and made me question my career choice and sanity at times).
But unlike work when my boss says, “I’m sorry you had to take on this really tough task. I’m sorry your day sucked. You’re doing a good job,” my daughter just cries.
It doesn’t matter if I pumped enough for her to feel full two hours ago if I cant do it again now.
It doesn’t matter if she nurses on one side: if its empty she wants the other which is sore and raw from her poor latch and I can barely put a cotton bra over it sometimes, let alone allow my child to try to extract food from it.
It doesn’t matter if I just changed her diaper 30 seconds before she noisily asserts that she’ll be needing a new clean one (ugh…that one gets me every time).
It doesn’t matter if I’m brushing my teeth for the first time of the day at 4pm…if she needs me, she needs me now…not after the timer on my sonicare says my teeth are clean.
It doesn’t matter if every intention in my body is good: she doesn’t know that and she still needs whatever she needs: usually faster than I can react to provide it which cues the blood curdling cries.
Other people keep telling me that it gets easier. They understand. The beginning is tough.
All I want is for my daughter to understand that I’m trying. I’m trying really hard and her cries break my heart everytime and make me feel like my efforts are never enough.
I long for the day when she can articulate her needs. I look forward to being able to tell her how much I love her and have her understand.
For now it’s just hard.