I have legitimate reasons for not writing in the last two months. Not that I really need to explain myself. I mean, this really is just a hobby blog. To my tens of followers who actually read my ramblings, most of you know why I’ve been MIA from the blogosphere.
Believe it or not, but I (the most annoyingly optimistic person you could ever meet) have been struggling with postpartum depression (PPD). Turns out, you can get it at any point within the first year of your baby’s life! I have never experienced depression personally, so this was a huge surprise for me. I’m not going to go into great detail about it because even though I love sharing a lot of my own life with you, I do value privacy as well. And maybe I’m just not ready to talk about it publicly. To be honest, I’m still processing a lot of it. And though I’ve sought out help, and am making a valiant effort to work through this hard time, it’s still my own personal battle.
What I do want to address is that we are at the tail end of the dreaded four month regression. Any mom that follows the Wonder Weeks, knows that this 30-something day stretch is a dark time. A very dark time. Your once adorable, cooing, smiling, giggling, well sleeping baby turns into a tiny diaper-wearing tyrant. I’m talking cluster-feeding around the clock, mini temper tantrums,cat naps versus consecutive (glorious) hours of sleep, and mood swings worse than a 16 year old on her period. It’s really no wonder that my PPD presented itself right around this time. I mean, how long can someone really survive on such broken sleep, the sound of a baby’s constant crying, and still think life is all unicorns shitting out rainbows and daisies???
So anyways, Sawyer is just slowly coming out of the regression. Jeff and I are sporting a new look these days — it’s called: Tired As Fuck! We’ve noticed some new wrinkles, extra grey hairs, and a general lack of physical fitness in our previously well-toned bodies. Meanwhile Sawyer is looking cuter than ever. But whatever, I’m not jealous of my perfect baby…
And now we wait. We wait until Sawyer is sleeping through the night.
So much of motherhood has been waiting. Waiting for him to fall asleep, waiting for him to wake up, waiting for him to poop, feed, burp, waiting for him to grow a little more. I’ve been so guilty of wanting to speed up these moments. I’ve caught myself daydreaming of the time when he can talk, or walk, or attend his first hip hop class (let’s hope he got daddy’s rhythm). But I know that when I get to these milestones, I will look back on my memories of his tininess and think, If only I could go back in time and have one more cuddle when he was so little. So I have been trying to replace my thoughts of, “I can’t wait until…” with “I love these moments when he…” and staying present. Staying in the now. Because that is all that I have. And this time with him is so fleeting and so precious, and I want to remember all of it.
How do you keep yourself present, even through those challenging stages?