When I became a mom, I fell so deep in love with this phase of my life that all else didn’t matter. Not my relationships with others, not my career, not even my own self. The only thing that mattered was my connection with my child, my child’s health (of course) and me being the best mom I could possibly be.
I would read about every recommendation and was on top of all the suggestions (both medical and familial). I was that new mom that rolled into each doctor’s appointment with a note with a list of questions.
I was in charge of a rigurous schedule that worked well for my child (because I knew exactly how many hours of sleep they needed and when and why). I counted each hour, with each nap, each day, and if it fell below that minimum, I freaked.
I breastfed exclusively, and mastered every obstacle that came with that (because it was not easy at first for me). I watched the clock and timed every feed and every ounce I would have to leave behind, if I had to leave, and ensured I was back before that amount of ounce per hour saved was up. I took no chances.
Afterall, I was responsible for human life. Fricking HUGE responsibility right?
Yes…but what I failed to realize, what that you know what, I was a good mom regardless. I was a good mom for trying, but that didn’t mean I had to be perfect.
Enter child #2. Wow. It’s like she was my Ativan. She was the vapourizer, and my realization that I needed to breathe.
While, yes I still monitored her closely, she clusterfed. So, keeping track of how much was nearly impossible, and I didn’t even bother to pump…I just took a wrap and her and out the door I went. I did mind her sleep, but I didnt agonize, because I knew she needed x amount and she was getting it, because I listened to her cues vs. A chart only. I didn’t always have questions now, but that didn’t mean I always had the answers either.
But that was alright.
When Rayna was born, I also had Caiden as young dependent toddler. They were different in so many ways, that not one set of methods seemed to make sense anymore. I trusted myself, because I felt like a good mom. My babies loved me, and me asking for help, me taking breaks, and me sometimes going with the flow, didn’t alter that.
Of course, I have my ways of parenting, and that works for me. But having two different personalities in my kids taught me that you have to do what works for you.
You can listen to a world of advice, but breathing and taking it in, and being true to yourself is key.
All new moms go through a learning curve and some paranoia. But it is perfectly ok. Once you got it…that’s just it, you got it.
So breathe moms.
Because you are doing great, no matter how you are doing it.