Recently two friends have given birth to their first children. Looking at their pictures stirs up conflicting emotions.
A.
I look at Grace and realize how big she’s gotten
in the past year. All the growing happens so stealthily; living life with her
means I barely notice as she fills out and gets taller.
B.
I feel sad that my little baby is no longer a
little baby. She’s a little toddler (sort of…as soon as she decides to take the
time to practice walking a bit more). I remember those first months where I
didn’t think I could stare at her beautiful face too much or hold her in my
arms long enough or love her more than I do. Heck. I guess I still feel that
way!
C.
I feel relief that those first 3-6 months of
endless nursing, pumping, and getting up in the night are over. (OK. We were
blessed to have a baby who did her nights early on, but she had a hard time
nursing and gaining weight so that was our big struggle.) And honestly, the
relief could extend all the way through being done with the first 10 months
since Grace took no more than two 20 minute naps a day between 5 and 10 months.
D.
So then, I feel empathy for those new moms who
are living in the never-ending timeless days that stretch on and on. “Is it
daytime or nighttime?” “Can I possibly be more tired than I am right now?” “Done
nursing. We have to start again in a mere hour and a half.” “I hear crying in
my head…all the time!”
E.
I also feel so happy for these new moms and the
overflowing joy they are surely experiencing! It is hard to contain or express
all the love!
F.
I hope sincerely that these new moms do not take
their child for granted. Grace was our miracle after a long road of infertility
and miscarriage, but truly every child is a miracle.
G.
I still remember how much looking at these new
baby pictures a couple years ago would have been impossible for me to do
without feeling some anger and grief – and definitely shedding some tears.
Part of the sadness I feel now looking at these pictures is
the uncertainty I have that I will ever get to be pregnant and give birth
again. I’ve said it before, but infertility and miscarriage can be described
like being an amputee. Just as an amputee is so grateful to have his other
limbs and his life, I am beyond thankful to have Grace with us. But the amputee
has every right to still feel grief over the loss of a limb. I still grieve
over the loss of our first child, and if I cannot have more biological children
as we want, I will grieve that as well. It does not lessen my love or
thankfulness for the daughter God has given us.
Now that I am a mom, I realize how much time moms spend
talking to one another about their kids and discussing various parenting
dilemmas. Before I even ever got pregnant I was tired of other people’s advice
(which included everything I should try to get pregnant, why I should adopt,
which doctors to go to, and on and on). Wisdom is understanding what works for
you and that everyone is different. Wisdom is not forcing your opinion on
anyone else or criticizing someone else’s parenting method (short of abuse and
neglect, of course). Thankfully I’ve only had a few people vehemently tell me I
am going about things the wrong way and their way is the ONLY way. I never want
to do that to someone else.
Those of us who have children after infertility struggle with
feeling a little bit guilty when we have complaints about our children. After all, our children are miraculous gifts for which we waited a long
time, endured pain and trials, and spent a bunch of money; we should be nothing
but grateful, right? I try to remind myself that the problems and complaints of
being a mom are just another facet of parenting that I have the privilege of
experiencing when I didn’t think it would ever happen.
On the other hand, I’m trying to just keep my mouth shut
when I’m with others when it comes to the complaining. I’d much rather keep
track of the joys my daughter brings me and share those things with others. I’m
still real and honest, but no one likes to hang out with a complainer…no matter
what the subject matter.
This past year has been so slow and super fast. Grace is a
fun person and a truly happy little girl. It warms my heart to see John with
her and know that Grace will grow up knowing without a doubt how much her dad
loves her and thinks she is beautiful and special. I love Grace’s smile and her
laugh. Even after a year, it still breaks my heart when she cries (although I
know perfectly well it’s unavoidable and sometimes good for her). We still don’t
know what color her eyes are, but they are gorgeous. We have so much fun as a
family of three and look forward to things getting better and better every day!
