Coming Up for Air

Being a new mother can be so confusing sometimes. Eleanor is a very good baby. She has such a healthy appetite, she's sleeping well at night (sometimes up to 7 hours!) and she's beginning to respond to our voices and other stimuli. Her laughter is the most precious sound--I always laugh when she does and try to make her laugh when she isn't. Her two-month birthday was last week, and her next doctor's appointment is next week. It will be time for shots. We'll have the baby Tylenol on hand!

She still seems to be having trouble with gas and spit-up. This is where some of my confusion begins. I can't tell if it is gas or if she is having reflux problems. After eating, she will fuss for 10 or 15 minutes until she either gives a huge burp or spit-up. It is hard to distinguish--all I can tell is that she is uncomfortable. The situation usually resolves itself, yet it is extremely taxing on me because I feel as if I should be doing something more for her.

She quite enjoys the swing and bouncy chair right now. This is another confusing thing for me--I feel as if I should be holding her more and playing with her more. When I put her in the chair or swing, I have a needling guilty feeling that I am dumping her in a contraption so I can "get things done" (which really aren't that pressing and don't need to be done right away). Occasionally I'll wear her in the Baby Bjorn while folding laundry or doing things around the house. She likes that okay. I also have some overwhelming feelings of guilt about the car seat! Of all things! We've taken two small road trips to Dallas and I felt like she really didn't want to be in the seat. Obviously that is not an option for car trips, so she was just strapped to another mass of plastic and metal while I carried on with what I thought was important at the time.

Every emotion that I have seems to be amplified and they spill out as anger at everyone but Eleanor. I have a lot of help! Logically I know that I am not doing everything by myself. This is a fact. Yet at the end of the day or the beginning of the next day, I feel overwhelmed and anxious about "doing everything myself." I already want to look into Mother's Day Out programs so that Eleanor and I are not hanging around the house all day or making eight thousand trips to Target/Mall/Wal-Mart/Grocery Store every week (and spending money that is not in the budget). I did get to a swimming aerobics class last week and that was nice. I've also been able to get a lot of the basement set up for crafts. But here again, I feel awful putting her in the bouncy chair just so I can make some cards and scrap (which is nuts. She likes the chair! She sits right next to me! We talk and sing! She doesn't need to be in my lap 24/7!). Let's not get started on sleep issues. I worry that she isn't getting enough, I worry that she's sleeping too much.

I am flat-out exhausted, and to be honest, most of it is my doing. I'm wound up so tight--I feel like a can of soda that has been shaken up and is ready to blow. This semi-confessional feels so good. Sort of like I am giving a voice to things I don't want to explain, but the act of voicing it is so cathartic. I STILL have not been back to a meeting and I need it so desperately. Child care has been the issue. I'm sure she could come with me, yet I get nervous that she might have a break-down in the middle of the meeting . I've always been very protective of meeting times--I need to be there, it is not an option. I must share, I must do the reading. So, bringing Eleanor into that dynamic will change it, and that in itself makes me nervous.

I'm still searching for my centering spirit as a mom. I'm working toward taking myself down a notch and learning how to relax again. The world is not going to end because my dishes aren't done or shirts don't get picked up from the cleaners. I'm thankful for supportive friends and the love of my husband (who, I'm sure, has wanted to strangle me more than once in the last two months). I'm not ruining her. I'm not turning her into a derelict by using her swing or bouncy chair. She isn't falling into infant depression. She's gaining weight and feeling happy. Everything is okay. Deep breaths. Rest. Calm. Satan rebuked.

Time for lunch.