I have no life.

Or so she said. A few days ago, I was told that I didn't have a life anymore - now that Skye is born. That it (life) is all about her (my daughter). Obviously lacking in tact, I only took offense mildly. It got me thinking, though. 

I do not think that I do not have a life - if she meant partying it up and such. That is not a life. That is a phase that I already passed years ago. I am not judging her with the way she chooses to live her life, I respect that. Her thoughts came from a place where motherhood is an obscure concept, hence the (un)welcome commentary. I'm not going to be huffy and puffy about being a mom and what it entails. People choose what they want to happen in their lives, and that's that. 

I have a life. My life is now about sustaining my daughter's. It is now about being (not just trying) but actually being the best person that I can be for her and her future. It is about our family. To love and nurture. I chose this life. It is well worth it.

Yes, mostly it is about Skye. Her cries for milk and snuggles. Her milky drool all over me. Her baby smell and breath. Her coos and giggles. Her smiles and her satiated face. But, I don't forget me. Skye is top priority, but there is still me. The "me" who has her own needs and wants. I still take a shower daily, if possible. I still have baths. I still bake, cook, craft, shop, get pampered. I'm still a little selfish about "me" - and that is fine. Before you can love others, you have to love yourself - the same goes for caring. 

I have a life, but thanks for saying that I don't. It made me ponder and realize that I am really content with where I am and what I have. It may not be your idea of a "life" but it is mine and I love it!

It is not pretty.

You just finished your really quick shower. Your hair is wrapped with a towel. Baby starts crying, you breastfeed on one teat while pumping the other, the newly laundered clothes are strewn all over the bed waiting for you to fold and sort, oh and you are still half-dressed.

Being a mother is not glamorous. It is tough. Plus, the roller coaster of emotions and constant worrying if you are good enough. Second-guessing yourself if you're doing the right thing. 

Then, you get a glimpse of your baby's smile. You hear their first squeal. You feel their warm little hugs. Their firm grip on your finger. Their gentle snoring on your neck. Then, it is all worth it. Who cares about the glamour?

Feeding Frenzy

Our daughter is turning 3 weeks old today. Her cluster feeding has begun.

I knew it was coming, and I have been pumping milk to make sure she has enough supply if my breasts get sore.

She. Would. Not. Stop. I am so sleepy. I'm at my wits end. I've already cried a few times. Feeling sorry for myself. But, what else can I do? Soldier on. It will pass, I know it will. It should. Life cannot be so unfair to women, really. 

I get my snuggle reward and that warm fuzzy feeling inside, anyway. That is the bright side. I should focus on that. Oh my snuggles. I love my baby.

Poops and pees

I am the mother of a projectile pooper.

There I was, confidently changing her diaper. Thinking I had it down pat. Once I removed the soiled one, that one second where there was no barrier/protection - our baby shot out a straight line of poop. Like a water gun. It hit the wipes container, her crib - about 4 feet maybe. It was a sight to see! I wish I had a video of it.

Lesson learned: no dilly-dallying. Dirty diaper out, really quick clean diaper in. Doesn't have to be immediately perfect, just make sure you have that protection. 

I Feel Inadequate

Today, my husband went back to work. I am scared.

I'm all alone with our daughter.

I've been breastfeeding for almost two hours. I'm tired and sleepy. I'm getting impatient and I have to pee.

How can other moms handle more than one kid? 

I feel inadequate. I don't know what I'm doing. 

Am I capable of being a good mother? 

I was thinking that it was better when I was still pregnant, I did not have to worry about feeding and burping and changing diapers. I was sleepless, but I was free to do things. Unlike now, I'm sleepless and stuck in our bed/couch feeding/soothing/changing baby. We eat one meal a day because we haven't established a routine yet. 

I look at her face, and I feel so much love. The need to protect and give her all she needs. But, I also need to rest. Oh the the tumultuous feelings. 

What else can I do but cater to my offspring. We decided to have her and bring her to this world. In the palm of her tiny chubby hand, she has us under her control. Lots of complaints here, yes. But it is worth it. She is a wonderful gift that deserves to be taken care of. So precious. 

I know it will come, where we have an established routine and things won't feel as scary anymore. But, for now, I am horrified and totally outside my comfort zone.