In Your Dreams!

Last night, between the many baby wakings and feedings, I managed to have a dream. 

A REAL dream, you know? One that took me out of my bed, out of my house, out of my mommy-head…

I dreamt that it was New Years Eve, and I was a young twenty-something whose biggest worry was whether I was going to wear pants or a skirt when I went out club-hopping with my friends after midnight (after midnight! When was the last time I was actually OUT after midnight??? Just the thought of clubbing makes me slightly exhausted).  I was acting reckless and silly and… well, younger.

Waking up from the dream was strange. I mean, one minute I'm dancing like a crazy lady among crowds of friends and strobe lights, and the next minute I am lying in bed in my pajamas, with a toddler snuggled into the deep of my neck and an infant clinging to my chest, making helicopter-like grunting noises.

My first thought was how much I missed those days, when I could hang out and get crazy with my other (young) friends for endless hours. I missed wearing short skirts and taking 20 minutes to do my makeup and drinking Bailey's like it was water. 

But then I listened to my babies breathing deeply, and felt the warmth of their tiny bodies next to mine. And I realized I would gladly trade my dream life, even my really fun, really young-feeling dream life, for my beautiful mamahood reality.

Growing Pains

I can’t say I am surprised, or that I wasn’t warned.

When we took Oren to the pediatrician for his first doctor’s visit, his kind doctor asked us how Em was dealing with the baby’s arrival. C and I answered that she seemed to be doing surprisingly well, with just a few signs of anxiety here and there.

The pediatrician looked at us with sympathy and told us that it was going to get worse, and probably quite a bit worse, in the coming weeks.

Since that appointment, Emmy has done her job proving that our pediatrician is indeed a wise woman. During our second week home from the hospital, Em developed an urgent need to be held and hugged by whomever happened to be holding (or nursing) her baby brother. During our third week home from the hospital, Em rather suddenly decided she hates school and wants to stay home with us all the time (which has made the mornings around here just DELIGHTFUL). And this past week she became afraid of the dark and pitched a huge fit when we tried to turn the lights off in her bedroom at night-night time (something we have done without any resistance for the past twenty six months). 

Yesterday, when I picked Em up from daycare, she asked where her baby brother was. I told her that baby brother was at Baba and Grampy’s, and that we would be going to pick him up before heading home. Em then asked if it might be possible to instead LEAVE baby brother at Baba and Grampy’s… like, FOREVER.

I told Em that we couldn’t leave Oren at their grandparents’ house, and asked why she didn’t want to pick him up. Em told me she was scared of the baby. I asked what was scary about the baby, and Em said the baby made a lot of noise. She’s not wrong. The baby doesn’t cry ALL that often, but he does grunt and groan and make his presence known in lots of other semi-noisy ways. And when he DOES cry, he doesn’t hold back.

Poor Em. My heart really goes out to her. Her whole world has changed. She used to be able to command 100% of our attention with her cute little songs and dances. Now she has to compete with a brother who cries often, nurses even more often, and poops pretty much constantly.

To be honest, I had little hope that I would be able to make Em feel better about the situation, or that I would be able to offer any words that would comfort her two year old brain and heart. But I told her that right now, baby brother is a baby, and he isn’t much fun for her because he can’t walk and he can’t talk and he can’t play with toys. BUT if we are patient, and we wait for baby Oren to get to be bigger, he will be lots of fun, and he WILL be able to walk and talk and play games with us.

You know what? Emmy GOT it. She started asking questions that followed this line of logic, like “when baby brother is big, we can take him to the waterfalls?” and “when baby brother is big, he can eat pizza too?” and “we can take baby brother on a choo choo train when he is big?” 

Yes, Emmy. YES. If we are patient, and if we can get through these first kind of crazy chapter together, we will be able to do all of those things together, and it will be so wonderful.

A Pregnant Pause

So, it’s been a while. Trying to sum up all that has happened over the past month, since Oren’s birth, is totally daunting – like trying to run a marathon after being on bed rest for weeks on end. But I swear I’ll try my best.

I should start by saying that Oren’s birth was quite wonderful, despite the fact that I was unable to birth naturally, and had to have a second c-section due to low fluids in my uterus. My amazing doctor really took her time, and was incredibly careful and mindful in performing the surgery. My anesthesiologist was a godsend, and calmed my nerves with his incredible bedside manner. And my husband held my hand and talked me through the whole thing, making me feel loved and comforted and amazing. And then – best part of all, of course - Oren arrived - a big, beautiful, bouncing boy who weighed in over 8 pounds. 

My biggest worry, pre-birth, was that Em might be slightly traumatized by the situation – it was only the second time I had spent a night away from Emmy since HER birth, and I thought she might be thrown for an emotional loop when here mama and dada had to spend several nights at the hospital. All my worrying was really for naught. Em did so well – having “sleep overs” with her Baba and Grampy, and spending time bonding with my parents, her Sabi and Savtah. I was so proud of my girl, and how resilient she was to change, even when it came without much preparation or notice.

And now our lives are forever changed. It’s funny. After Emmy was born, I often tried to think back to what life was like for C and I in our pre-Emmy days, and it was REALLY hard to remember what it felt like and what we did with all our time! Now, just weeks after Oren’s birth, I try to remember what life was like when it was just the three of us, and I feel like I have amnesia. What were our evenings like when we weren’t running around the house in a constant state of semi-chaos, trying to meet the needs of TWO kids? Why in the world did we think THAT life was exhausting? 

I’ve got to be honest. The biggest, most overwhelming feeling I’ve experienced since becoming a mom of two (besides that sense of enormous, ridiculous love) is GUILT. When I spend time alone with Emmy, I feel so guilty about NOT spending time with Oren. I feel guilty that I am unable to give Oren the kind of attention I was able to give Emmy when she was a newborn and was our only child. When I spend time nursing and holding Oren, I feel like I am being a neglectful mom to Emmy, and miss the days when I could focus on her in a complete and total way. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. 

I’ve told C that this is definitely going to be the biggest challenge for me. I mean, I can manage the balancing act of feeding a two year old while changing a baby’s diaper and preparing dinner (kind of). But figuring out the emotional balancing act – how to be “ok” with mothering to the best of my abilities, and not beating myself up for not being 100% mom to each of my kids ALL OF THE TIME – THAT is going to be the real task.

There is much more to write of course. Many more details of how each of us is adjusting to life as a family of four. But I have to save some material for tomorrow’s blog post.

Any words of wisdom to offer? I would love to hear any advice, thoughts, etc.