Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Maternity Leaving

Welp. We had a good run.

Twelve weeks. Well, twelve weeks and two days, actually. 

There were times when I thought it might literally kill me, this whole mom of a newborn (again), thing. And though I've been trying hard to savor every moment (like the well meaning, but guilt enducing old ladies at the grocery store tell me to) there's a part of me that has also been counting down the seconds until we hit twelve weeks- what I consider the first real infant maturity marker, that (God willing) brings with it more sleep, and an easier schedule. But somehow now that we've made it, I don't feel ready. Weeks ago I prayed for time to speed up. For her to grow up. For us to just somehow survive to this magic tipping point where the newborn-ness fades into regular infant-hood. And somehow...that point has arrived. But even though it feels like she's been here a lifetime (she has...her lifetime) it also seems like it's all been a blink. I couldn't possibly have a twelve week old. It couldn't possibly be time for me to leave her.


I had a vision for this moment in my head...what our lives would look like at twelve weeks...and the reality isn't exactly lining up with how I pictured it. She's still getting up multiple times a night. She still won't take a bottle. She still likes to be rocked a certain way before all of her (many, very short) naps. In short, she's still a teeny tiny little baby. My teeny tiny little baby. Not someone who should have her own (tiny) backpack, getting ready to be shipped off to "school".

And for my part, I'm a bit of a baby too. I still cry over the smallest things. I still get overwhelmed by caring for the girls. I'm still chubby. I still have unfinished projects. When I think about what I wanted to look like (physically and emotionally) at this stage...I don't picture who I am now. I'm still brand new at this. Not someone who should have their laptop bag by the door, ready to re-enter the rat race.

And yet....it's time.

............................................

Twenty-two months ago I was profoundly changed. I went from being regular Courtney (ok....super-round Courtney) to being a mom. And it was more than just adding a baby on my hip. I was physically changed. I was mentally changed. I was softer. More sensitive. More vulnerable. Weaker, but also stronger. Yes, motherhood had given me a squishier middle, but it also made me squishier inside- emotionally.

And then, almost three months ago, I changed again. I was already a mom. But I became Fin's mom. And I was made squishier still. (Yep...physically and emotionally). Motherhood has a way of making you feel all the things, and becoming a mom again made me feel everything two fold. I've never been so exhausted, discouraged, tested, humbled, or needed in my life. But I've also never loved this much. When I think back on this time with my new girl (as well as my first girl), I recognize all the hard times, but I remember all of the joy.

So I'm sad. I'm horribly sad to be leaving my girl. I've cried big mama tears every day for a week, whenever I even thought about dropping our babe off for the day. I cry because I'm worried for her. I cry because I'm scared for me. I cry because I'll miss her.

And as much as I'll miss her, I'm going to miss us. I'll miss our routines. I'll miss our mom's group. I'll miss nursing 10 times a day (a few weeks ago I never thought I would say that). I'll miss mom and me yoga. I'll miss scrolling through my phone and seeing 47 pictures from each day's adventures. I'll miss afternoon naps (a lot). I'll miss her sweet, swaddled, snuggles.

I'm going to miss the lightning in a bottle that was the Summer of 2013. The Summer of Fin.


I was stretched to my limit this Summer, and I've come out of it with some battle wounds, a bit of knowledge, far too many mistakes, and a whole lot of experience. But most of all, I've come out of it with a precious daughter, and eighty-six days of memories made together.

............................................

I love you Fin. A whole, whole, lot.


7 comments :

  1. Oh mama. You have my sympathy, my also-been-made-soft mama tears, shed for your struggle. The same struggle that was mine 3 weeks ago. And people would say "it gets easier". Gosh I hated that. I didn't want it to get easier. I didn't want it to change at all. All the same, now 3 weeks in to being a work-outside-the-home mama, it is slightly easier. My heart goes out to you.

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    1. That's such a good point...I want it to be easier, but then, if it does, I'll mourn some of the connection that has been lost. I suppose we'll always be connected, but that intense newborn time is gone, for better or for worse.

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  2. Oh Courtney, I can't even imagine. I don't even have a baby yet and I hate the thought. You're in my prayers, and are such a good and loving mom!

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    1. Thank you so much Meg. I always appreciate more prayers!

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  3. bah. big 'ol sad face. I hope each day it gets a little bit easier, I don't know. You're amazing and a great mum. no advice, just prayers for grace to make it through...

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    1. it does get easier...but the grace is a necessity for sure.

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  4. When you write ,these posts, these raw post-partum, newborn days posts I mourn, mourn that you weren't writing them when I had newborn babies. Selfish, but true. Where were you and your wisdom in 06, 07, and 09 when I was a weepy, hormonal, bluesy new mom? :)

    Oh, and sometimes I covet your words more than your wardrobe. You make going through the hard stuff sound worth it. It is worth it, but you make it sound poetically worth it also. :)

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