The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Reflections on my first year of motherhood

It's Ry's first birthday today. Last night as we spooned, my husband murmurs, "We haven't spend a night without Ryan in a whole year." I ponder on this a moment and said, "I haven't spent a night without him." It's a pretty major milestone--a year--and it's been quite a transformation for all of us. But here are a few thoughts as they pertain to my journey.

The Good
Yesterday Ry laughed all day. It started at Baja Fresh when he kept giving his “starfish wave” to an elderly couple a few tables over. Each time they waived back, he busted up with these big belly laughs, which was so contagious, the whole restaurant was in smiles. Then we went to Longs for batteries (all those frickin’ birthday toys). I hand him my keys to keep him from climbing out of the grocery cart and the checker says, “You got the keys to the Jeep? Vrmmm. Vrmmmm. Vrmmm.” Ry grinned from ear to ear and immediately started doing his own Rmmm. Rmm—for the first time. Then at naptime, there’s loud chortling coming from the baby monitor. I go in his room, and he's standing in the crib, facing the mirror, practicing his “routine.” Now that his audience has arrived, he breaks out into a four-teethed squeal of glee. At bath time, I rub my hands vigorously together to make suds. Who would have thought that that was the funniest thing of all time? It’s hard to be down when you're around someone who thinks you're the funniest person alive. As our nanny said, it’s in these moments that you know what it’s like to be Jerry Seinfeld or a rock star.

So today, I’m thinking about Ry’s very first day and I remember lying in my bed at Good Sam talking to a friend over the phone and saying, “I’m in love.” I’ve never been a love at first sight kind of chick, but August 1, 2005 changed all that. Two months later, I had that feeling rush over me again, when he began cooing to me in his sweet soft voice. Shortly after, my mother got him to laugh for the first time. The feeling came again when he first waived bye-bye to me from the nanny’s arms and then again when he started calling “mum” from his crib. And now it happens almost everyday when his eyes meet mine, we smile, and seem to share in some sort of inside joke.

I had my astrological chart read before I was pregnant (or even seriously thought about getting pregnant) and I was told, “Children in this chart are a love fest.” Which, interestingly enough (I don’t put a lot of stock in this stuff, so it’s interesting to me) that’s pretty much true for Ry. Anyone who meets him falls in love instantly. We had a birthday party for him on Sunday and I’ve been getting several emails ever since from our friends saying he’s one of the happiest kids they know. And whenver I doubt the job I’m doing, my husband reminds me of how much he smiles. Sounds wonderful, huh? Well read on.

The Bad
It’s a given that new parents don’t get much sleep. Everyone talks about it. Everytime someone asked me, “Is he sleeping through the night, yet? I’d say “yes,” just so they’d bugger off. But, going on a year of sleep deprivation, I’m crankier, fatter and I hurt all over (more on that later). I know that if just got more sleep, I’d lose 10 pounds just because I’d be sleeping when otherwise I’m eating. Think about it. If you get up at 5 am, you have to eat two meals before you get to noon. If you got up at 8 am, you’d only need one. And speaking of food, I’ve had constant heartburn for the last two years. First when I was pregnant, but now because I never have time to chew my food. I inhale everything because you never know when or if you’ll get to finish a meal.

The thing no one talks about is what your baby will do to your marriage. Right along with birthing classes, there should be a course on “How not to kill your spouse.” My husband and a colleague (who’s also a new dad) have already started compiling course materiel for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon 2: How to Survive Your Wife’s Transition to Motherhood.” Seriously, I heard a startling statistic that the divorce rate during an infant's first year is astronomically high. It’s a simple thing, really. You’re both sleep deprived and the kid sucks all your patience, so sadly, you have nothing left for the person in your life who used to be the one that got everything you had to offer. No to mention that you feel asexual, and your self-esteem and body image are in the dumps.

Then there are the well-meaning family and friends who want to micromanage your motherhood. In the early days, I’d wish put the following messagone on the outgoing voicemail: I DON’T CARE HOW YOU OR ANY OTHER MOTHER DID IT. I have five siblings, eighteen nieces and nephews, and a doting mother-in-law of her first grandson, so I get a good dose of unsolicited advice and commentary on my mothering tactics. When Ry was just 8 months, we went to Hawaii with my sister. We didn’t have a meal in which it wasn’t said, “you’re feeding him THAT?” My sister was so intent on letting my baby enjoy the pleasures of food, that it was only two days before I found him eating banana smoothie in the hot tub. But as much as I wanted to keep him on a slow introduction of organic foods, I realized that he is--and will increasingly be--his own person, and as much as I can control what he does now, I’m not going to be the only influence in his life. So let him eat smoothie, just don't ridicule me for feeding him carrots.

The Ugly
A week after Ry was born, I ran out of Vicodin—on a weekend. Can’t remember what the OBGYN’s lame excuse was, but it wasn’t until 6 pm Monday that we got the refill. That was the day I could have easily found myself on the streets trying to score more. I would have done anything to get rid of the pain. There was one moment where both baby and I were screaming our heads off. And if I was paying attention to anyone beside myself, I could have seen the whites of my husband’s knuckles as he tried to hang on to sanity for all of us.

Six weeks later, I had such blood sugar fluxuations that caused fits of rage, often shortly after breastfeeding. I just couldn’t get enough to eat or the right things to eat. And about that time is when the stiffness started. I’ve always had problems with chronic pain, but this was new, different. Now, I wake up in the middle of the night to go to my baby and I can’t walk. Sometimes it’s hard to even hold his bottle for longer than a few minutes. It’s been better with the change in weather for summer, but there was a time last spring, I seriously thought I was going lame.

I’ve had more panic attacks in the last year than I can now count. And there are times when the prevailing thought in my head is running away from my life. A dear friend of mine said once, “After I had a child, my freedom was forever gone.” And this woman is the best and dearest of mothers. But I get it. Even if I did run away, I’d never be free. I’d carry my son around with me the rest of my life, even if we weren’t together.

So…two endocrinologists, a rheumatologist, several massage and acupuncture sessions, several herbs potions, and many therapy sessions later, I’m working toward getting better. And if that’s not possible (as it often is with chronic pain syndromes), maybe I can learn how to cope better. My health is forever compromised due to being pregnant. Hormones aside, my emotions are that much more complex due to being a mom. And, it’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever be as svelte as was at 17 or 25. It sounds trite, how everyone says that “it’s all worth it.” But somehow it is (or maybe I’m trying to convince myself of that or otherwise, I couldn’t go on). All I know is that yesterday I laughed and giggled all day long at even the most mundane of tasks. And the last time that happened, I was a kid. That’s a feeling that, if you could bottle up, would make you the next Donald.