Filed under: Mommy Anxiety | Tags: losing motivation during Ramadan, unsettled
I have been feeling very unsettled lately. This comes in waves, so I’m sure it will pass, but knowing that doesn’t ever seem to alleviate it. This morning I had a dream that I delivered the baby – only to find that it wasn’t crying or anything as I held it. No one was around and I felt like there was something that needed to be done, but I didn’t know what it was. A nurse came in at that point and slapped him on the bottom and that sent him crying (and breathing).
I seem to have lost all the motivation that I originally had when Ramadan started. I don’t know what happened. They say that the shaitan and all his army are locked away from us during Ramadan, but I don’t understand how that can be true because I still feel as though he were right next to me half the time, distracting me from my prayers, keeping me from the masjid, pushing me to go to bed when I could have read Qur’an. I feel as though I am losing a battle with myself.
We are moving into our new home and so I have been busy packing and trying to organize everything. There is so much to do and the tasks seem overwhelming. Even more overwhelming is our financial situation, which is destined for doom in the coming months. We are searching desperately for a new job for my husband. I have had such a difficult time sleeping – I’m not sure whether that is because of the uncomfortableness of pregnancy or the fears whirring around in my head.
Alhumdulilla – things are just changing and I have to learn to deal with that. I still feel better when I pray, even though I have been missing them left and right, astagfirallah. Insha’allah this chaos will wind down soon enough and we can return to some kind of normalcy. For now, though, my posts may be few and far between, although I am still going to make my best effort.
Please keep me in your prayers. Alhumdulilla – tomorrow is yet another day.
After reading “And Baby Makes Three” over at bessie.viola, I had a flood of emotions regarding my own marriage and new baby experience. Early on, I felt as though we were “inviting” this new link to our twosome. We had thought about it, agreed upon it, decided it, put our faith in Allah and said “alright, let’s make it happen.” But as my waistband expands and my idea of a good night’s rest begins to deteriorate, I am starting to feel less and less “inviting” and more and more “forced,” as though I am now being pushed and pulled towards parenthood rather than running carefree towards it through a field full of sunflowers.
Everyone tells us it will change you, it will change your marriage, it will change your feelings towards your husband. Some warn “enjoy the time you have now” and “it only gets worse” or “it’s downhill from here.” Say good-bye to restful sleep and quiet dinners together with hubby. I know in some element they are telling the truth. But what about all the moments in between? Besides, I’m still convinced that it won’t happen to us, that we are immune to the stresses that parenthood will bring, that we are too civilized with each other to fall into the deep pit of resentment. That we know each other too well to let that happen.
But who knows the changes that will come about when this new being enters into our world. Already I am starting to feel the “aches” – backache, headache, heartache. Delivery (which I’ve conveniently locked out of my consciousness the entire duration of pregnancy) is getting closer and closer, looming on the horizon. Knowing what I alone am going to have to suffer through brings about some strange and unfamiliar feelings. Starting to feel as though MY life is going to be shaken and stirred, while my husband’s is going to only be mildly swayed from side to side.
But the truth of the matter is that we both have to go through this together. We both have to discover a new way of communicating. One that allows us to get out our frustrations (but without tearing each others’ heads off in the process). One that allows us to act civily to each other (no matter what curse words we’re rattling off inside our own heads).
We haven’t been introduced yet to the stress, the sleepless nights, the worrying and the forgetfulness and the havoc and chaos that is parenthood. But in the preview beforehand, the nine months of pregnancy and the dreaded third trimester, I am starting to see a pattern emerge that I think we can both deal with.
Just when I think it’s going to be too much, just when I think I’m about to break, that I can’t hold it in any longer, that I can’t stop myself from the curt comments, the meanness that slips in, the derogatory, spiteful, hateful, resentful, aggressive language that teeters just under the surface – he goes and does something so downright perfect that it all seems to get washed away.
This is the picture he sent to my phone yesterday. It had a little music with it, and the heart grew in size as the music played…
When I got home the other day, the dishes were all washed and put away, the laundry was started, and the entire house was vacuumed.
Every morning when he comes home, we greet each other with a kiss and a hug. From there, who knows how the day is going to go: who’s going to snap when the garbage needs to be taken out, who needs to feed the cat, who gets control of the remote, when it’s time to go to bed and the garbage STILL needs to be taken out. But then who cares about all of those things when you crawl into bed together again and look at each other and feel a baby kicking in between you both. It is something that makes all the rest of it seem like nothing but background noise….and I realize that we DID choose this for ourselves, and parenthood suddenly doesn’t seem so impossible.
Today I had childbirth class. This was quite the emotional experience. To be honest, I really had no idea what I was in for. But I really didn’t expect to be so rattled. At the end of the whole ordeal, I carried my belongings out to the car, opened the door, set my mug of water in the middle console, and turned the key. I then caught my own eye in the rearview mirror for a split second, and immediately burst into a thousand tears.
Thankfully, no one was around to see me, or they probably would have thought something was wrong. Nothing was wrong – (wipe, wipe) – see! I’m fine! I’m totally fine.
I spent all day, reassuring myself of that. I’m fine. I’m fine. Breathe. It wasn’t so much the birthing video. I handled the breastfeeding issues, the postpartum depression discussion, and the cesarean section. What got me was the poetry handout.
Here goes:
“Before I was a mom -
I never tripped over toys or forgot the words to a lullaby
I didn’t worry about my plants being poisonous
I never thought about immunizations.Before I was a mom -
I had never been
puked on
or peed on
or pooped on
or chewed on
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts
I slept all nightBefore I was a mom -
I never held down a screaming child to get shots or tests
I never looked into teary eyes and cried
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin
I never sat up late at night watching a baby sleep
Before I was a mom -
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn’t want to put them down
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn’t stop the hurt
I never knew something so small could affect my life so much
I never knew I could love someone so much
I never knew I would love being a momBefore I was a mom -
I didn’t know the feeling of having my heart outside my body
I didn’t know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby
I didn’t know that bond between a mother and her child
I didn’t know that someone so small could make me so happy
I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so muchBefore I was a mom -
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the frustrations, the wonderment or the satisfaction of being a mom.”
(To my knowledge, the above poem was by written by my childbirth instructor, Shirley Bismark. I have no other way of giving credit to her other than to state her name here.)
I like to think of myself as Superwoman. I like to think that I am invincible to all emotion, that nothing will get to me, that I can control all the turmoil happening inside my brain. It’s a big fat lie, of course, and I know it. I am one of the most flubbery, flustery, tearful people on the planet. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I wear my feelings all over my face. I can hide not an ounce of it. I just like to PRETEND that I can.
So getting through the entire day with a straight face took alot of effort. I had to put on several coats of armor, which came out to me doodling during the breathing techniques tutorial, reading text messages while they passed out the breaking-the-amniotic-sac instruments, and becoming extremely involved in my package of crackers and why the plastic opening wouldn’t come apart during the Signs of Labor presentation.
I like to think of myself as Superwoman. But even Superwoman had to be a little rattled at the thought of delivering a baby. Or knowing that her whole life (including whooshing off into the night to save her fellow man) was about to be turned upside down. Or knowing that her once powerful physique was about to be turned into a human feeding machine.
The birth is a miracle. But an even greater miracle is motherhood. Becoming the sole provider for such a little, itty-bitty creation that Allah has sent to you. So while I intend to keep up this “I’m Fine” routine for as long as I can – I do realize that at some point I’m going to have to break down and accept that this is really about to happen. Just give me five more minutes…I’m fine. Really.
Filed under: Mommy Anxiety | Tags: baby articles, baby magazines, motherhood, pregnancy, pregnancy anxiety
So today I mistakenly went into the No-No pile: the stack of baby/parenting magazines that I haven’t touched since month three of pregnancy. I knew what was going to happen; I justified my actions by claiming that I was “cleaning” my room – which usually entails pulling everything out of the filing cabinets (read: shoe boxes and plastic bags) and going through all the memories before dumping everything altogether back into one bigger cardboard box (minus one small stack of miscellaneous papers that I proudly throw away.)
So here’s what happened, the slow decline of my morale article by article:
Open page one of “As Your Baby Grows.” Read article about the important decision of choosing childbirth education classes. Article suggests taking the longer course (6 weeks) versus taking the three-day weekend class because you’ll have more time to practice the breathing and relaxation techniques. Feel guilty that I’m only taking a one-day class because it cost me $60 and the insurance doesn’t pay for it. Turn page to find picture of pink baby in red womb, arms and legs all flipped in weird positions, baby looking mighty alien-y due to lack of fully-developed eyelids. I am guiltily grossed out by the photo and drop the mag.
Next, open Similac Baby Formula “Welcome Addition Club” planner given as free gift from doctor. Flip through Weeks 23-27 to find horrifying picture of pale-skinned, plastic fetus-looking baby on opposite page. Almost throw up a little in my mouth. Read about how expanding uterus is putting pressure on my intestines. Instructed not to hold in frequent needs to urinate, or else I could cause my bladder to become enflamed, which may lead to an irritation of the uterus, which may result in an early onslaught of contractions. Great. Urge to pee may cause me to have premature baby.
Tips for Week 28-31: ”Now is a good time to start putting together the nursery.” Oh is it? That sounds great, seeing as I have no nursery items, no crib, and no bedding to speak of, not to mention not having any money to spend on these things, not to mention not having an apartment to live in for the next month seeing as we have to be out by October 1. Next page: “Will you breastfeed or bottle feed?” across from Similac advertisements. Snap planner shut with little metal fastener and throw it across the room at opposite wall. Continue rummaging.
Open Target baby registry book. See all the lists of Things You Absolutely Must Have For Baby. Check out the prices for the jogger stroller, the umbrella stroller, the rock star stroller. Check out the price for the “Standard Stroller.” Read tip about color-coordinating the stroller with the baby’s wardrobe. Start to hyperventilate.
Next, ”Safe and Sound Sleep” pamphlet from very first prenatal office visit. Open up to bulleted list about how to prevent infant from SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). Convince myself that I am incompetent due to lack of proper swaddling skills. Start crying. Husband walks in, suggests that I practice on the cat. Makes me laugh and then helps me up off the floor and walks me out of the room away from pile of magazines.
I’m starting to feel like I’m going crazy, but then again, I’m just not quite sure. Do you have to know what you’re doing in order to be a good mom? What does it take to be a good mom? Sometimes when the baby kicks inside me, I feel guilty. I’m supposed to be all happy and touched by the movements, but instead, all I feel is worry and doubt in myself as a mother. And that leads me to feeling guilty. Guilty for thinking this was okay, to bring a life into this world and just hope for the best. Guilty for feeling anything other than pure joy at having a safe, healthy baby inside me, soon to be born. Sigh…
Sidenote to Labor article in “As Your Baby Grows”: “Choosing your baby’s name may seem simple compared to the choices you’ll make in the next few months.”
How reassuring.
Baby's First Ultrasound (3 months new)
Things I will miss about being pregnant:
1. Attention and smiles from strangers
2. Little bumps and kicks inside me
3. Hubby-Bubby going out to get ice cream (soft-serve only) for me whenever I want
4. Ultrasound pics
5. Having an excuse to wear sweatpants 24/7
6. Eating every 2 hours
7. Sitting on the couch with Hubby and me holding our hands on my tummy
8. Hearing both my heartbeat and the baby’s heartbeat together at the doctor’s office
9. Hubby bringing me flowers and sweets to make me feel better on my sad days
Things I won’t miss about being pregnant:
1. Strangers who try to reach out and touch without warning
2. Big football-player kicks
3. Purple Horse Pills, better known as Prenatal Vitamins
4. Midnight, desperate must-make-it-to-the-bathroom-before-bladder-explodes urges
5. Sitting there and nothing comes out but an ounce or two
6. Inability to find a comfortable position to sleep in
7. Losing sight of my toes
For those who’ve been through it already – what things do you remember of your own pregnancy that you miss (or are happy not to have to deal with now?)
