I don't trust myself to write a lot intended to be shoved out here in a public space right now. First, with an infant taking up nearly all my waking hours, everything is changing moment to moment. I'm thrilled then I'm sad then I'm bored then I'm frustrated then I'm charmed then I'm terrified. Additionally, I have a ton of hormones still running through my system that I neither understand nor control. Apparently I will have them until I stop breastfeeding. Awesome.
For instance, this morning I was convinced I am a terrible mother. And I bet if I didn't write it down, I'd forget about it, and someday I would look back on this period and think, hmm, I did a pretty okay job, all things considered. But of course if I write about it right now, instead I'll color my memories with the self doubt that listening to your child cry engenders. But if I write about it, I might be able to make sense of it in my mind. But if I write about it, I might begin, and the sound of crying may force me to stop halfway and I'll have yet another abandoned post. (There are quite a few.)
Also, earlier today my husband asked: is there anyone you can talk to about any of this (meaning the parenting decisions I'm making)? And when I thought about it, I realized: in a way, the answer is "no". Because parenting philosophies are really personal, charged decisions and everyone gets defensive about whatever choices get made. But every kid is different. So while yes, someone out there has probably lived through a similar situation, I don't know that person, and the people I do know are more likely to be aghast that I'm trying any sort of sleep training this young, or never needed it because their child never had problems sleeping all night long. (Sheesh.)
It's knowing that if I ask one set of people, they'll tell me I should abandon my current course altogether, whereas if I ask another, they'll tell me I need to toughen up. Neither feel exactly right for this kid at this time. But I can't guarantee any of what I am doing is helping. I'm just guessing in the dark right now, trying different stuff, which unfortunately ruins any attempt at consistency. Consistency is supposed to be the best tool at your disposal. But how can you be consistent when you can't tell what works?
It. is. tricky.
And then sometimes my daughter will push up with her legs and stand on my knees, and smile and smile, and make little squealy raptor noises, and then it doesn't matter that I'm surviving on so few hours of sleep every single night, it doesn't matter if she cries when it's naptime, the erosion of who I am doesn't matter because it's being replaced by who I'm going to be with this new person in my life, once she figures out who she is.
Because though I can't really call it a two-way street yet, I added a lot of love to my life when we had her.
Which is worth every item of clothing I have being covered in spit up for the next year or so, right?
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