One month down, 11 more to go.
Most people are talking about how they want to slow down time with their newborns. How quickly time flies or how they wish their babies would stay little forever. Not here. Am I an outlier in saying that time could not creep by any slower during this newborn phase??
Give me all the terrible twos. Threenagers? No problem. But babies? Ugh, the absolute worst. Babies are HARD. They take so much energy, emotion, selflessness, time, love, and sleep, that the season of newborns is wildly and unequivocally HARD.
Babies are unpredictable, fickle, helpless, irrational creatures that constantly take and take and take without ever giving back anything in return. They suck your boobs along with your creativity and intelligence. They sleep in 20 minutes cycles and leave you with bags under your eyes so dark that you look like you’ve just been punched in the face. Not to mention, they make you crazy. Literally crazy. Like, one minute you’re all “I’ve never felt this terrible in my entire life, I’m not cut out for this!” And the next minute you’re saying you could bask in their newborn bliss for all of eternity. They are intoxicating and ridiculously adorable and they make you forget everything they’ve ever done to make you crazy.
I’ve heard of babies who eat, sleep, poop, and, for the most part, remain content. I think they’re called “fairytales,” if I recall correctly. Unicorn babies. Not my babies. My babies cry, eat, sleep in your arms, and poop, in that order. We’ve survived one month with our third and final baby, and I’m counting down the days until this year is over. As terrible as that sounds, I’ve lived through this time twice before, and from the other side, I can say with certainty that I do not and will not miss this newborn phase. I’m one compliment or critique away from a complete and total meltdown at all times. Even now, I’m typing this with one hand because the other is holding a baby. Baby snuggles are amazing and all, but what if 98% of your day was spent doing so? Not so amazing.
And yes, I love my babies deeply. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life. It’s a heavy sort of love that never lightens, but you grow stronger with it. And yes, I never want to forget these times. Every inch of their tiny squishy bodies. How their toes fit perfectly into your palms and their bodies melt into your own. Their old man wrinkles and arched back stretches. Their coos and pterodactyl growls. All of those baby snuggles. The smell of their sweet little heads. How tightly they grasp your one finger with their whole hands.
But all of that said, I do not and will not miss the hours spent pacing the halls, wearing pathways into the carpet and holes in my socks. Not to mention the hours spent bouncing on the exercise ball. The palpable fatigue. Muscle soreness, spit up, dietary modifications, sleepless nights, the lack of complete use of my brain, walking into walls, the hormones, and the tears. So many tears.
Of course, I know that the good stuff never comes easy. And as hard as those little stinkers might be, they are worth it all.