I actually composed this blog post in my head while I was laying in bed at 4:30 this morning trying to ignore Emma's cries. And trying not to cry myself. Regardless of whether you decide to read it, I need this therapeutic outlet.
I always thought that the first 3 months of having a baby would be the hardest and that it would only get easier from there. I was wrong. This 4th month has definitely been the hardest. I am doubting, on a daily basis, my abilities as a mother. And it really stinks.
I know that I am overly hard on myself. Hubby tells me that daily. Here's an excerpt from an email he sent me this morning when he got to work:
"...you have to trust me when I say that regardless of the doubts that are creeping into your mind, you were definitely made to be a mother…I just wish you could take a step back and not be so hard on yourself… you’re a fabulous mother and I thank God every day that you’re my wife and the mother of my child. Think of where we’ve been in our journey together. We’ve encountered and overcome the couple of most difficult problems that a married couple can have and have come out the other end in this glorious situation, it all leading to Emma joining our lives. I think God carrying us through those problems and delivering us to where are today is proof enough of what He sees in you as a mother..."
Needless to say, that sent me into a flurry of tears first thing this morning. I am used to being able to control every situation in which I'm in - and I really need that control - and with a four month old, you definitely have little control. I can't control when she sleeps. I can't control when she cries. I can try to get her to sleep and I can try to soothe her, but it doesn't always work as I hoped.
I want to experience that joy of motherhood that I probably overly idealized during our infertility struggle. And I think that is what makes me the most upset with myself. We tried for so long for our precious miracle, and now that we have her here with us, I find myself wondering whether it was even a good decision. I can't believe I could ever utter those words, and I am probably making very angry anyone reading this post who is going through their own infertility struggle.
Don't get me wrong, we have moments of joy and fun but I just feel so overwhelmed with frustration and impatience and I feel bad that Emma doesn't have a more compassionate mom.
I know it will get better. I know that I am just trapped right now in a bubble that is clouding my vision of the big picture. I want to enjoy every second of my time with Emma - even the hard seconds - because I know I can't get them back. And then I just read a blog post from a mother who just lost her son and it makes me feel even more guilty.
I have my little angel here with me. And I just need to pull it together and cherish her.