Surviving Motherhood.

As Lily's second birthday approaches, I find myself thinking back to the newborn days. Lily and I came home from the hospital 3 days after she was born, and it went a lot like you would expect... She slept, and I stared at her and wondered why the hell the hospital let me take this child home. She woke up a few hours later, screaming bloody murder. I knew how to make a bottle but all I could think about was "can I return her?" I know how bad that sounds, but seriously, who let me bring this child home? For the first two weeks it was pretty simple. Having a new baby is a lot like the directions on a shampoo bottle; wash, rinse, repeat. She slept, ate, pooped, slept, ate, pooped. Meanwhile, I didn't sleep, and I didn't eat. I pretty much survived off iced tea, and adrenaline. A mombie is a real thing, and if you ever encounter one, DO NOT APPROACH. Boy was I cranky.

When Lily was 2 weeks old, I found myself thinking, this isn't so bad, I can do this. Then colic set in. It was everything you imagine it to be, and worse. I was never prepared for the hellish nightmare that is colic. For hours on end Lily would scream bloody murder. If she wasn't screaming, she was grunting in her sleep. I imagine it wasn't very restful, because when she woke up, she was extremely unhappy. I researched everything I possibly could, and I tried every trick in the book. Emotionally, I was bordering on unstable. Physically, I was spent. After a conversation with her pediatrician, the search for new formula began. At 1 month, try soy. Constipated. 2 weeks later, give her juice once a day to help her go? Nope. At 2 months, Alimentum. Sure, let's try it. Let's add a little zantac in there too so she stops exorcist vomiting everywhere. I really thought Alimentum was our saving grace. Soon after starting it, Lily slept through the night. The screaming decreased, her pooping became normal, and life seemed easy. She still wasn't happy when she was awake, but I figured, one step at a time, right? For 2 months, we were golden. HAHAHA. Forget water torture, just have prisoners listen to a screaming child for hours on end. I promise it won't be long before they're spitting information at you. Colic made me question my sanity on levels I cannot accurately explain. I thought for sure I was failing as a mother because I could not soothe my child. At 4 months old, Lily stopped eating. Seriously. She would not take a bottle. She would not even let it near her mouth. She'd scream so hard for so long, she'd pass out. That shook me to my core. How does a tiny, little infant just refuse to eat? After a week, I was fed up. I wanted to know what was wrong with my baby. After a trip to the hospital, and no answers, I called and left a message for her GI doctor. He called me back almost immediately, and changed her antacid to Prilosec, and told me he'd see me in 2 weeks to talk progress. At that 2 week mark, we still weren't eating. I was feeding her rice cereal from a spoon just to get some food in her stomach. She'd drink an ounce out of a bottle, go into hysterics, and throw it all up. Her GI doctor was stunned because Lily was a chubby little baby. But at that appointment, he introduced us to Elecare. Elecare saved my sanity. It saved Lily's belly. It brought some normalcy to our everyday. It took 2 months to finally work, but after it did? Life was better. Lily still threw up constantly, but she was happy. If you've kept up, that means I survived 7 months of colic.

I really sometimes feel like those first 7 months were a blur. I can still remember her milestones, but they're clouded by my memories of how overwhelmed I was. I didn't hate my child, but I did hate being a mom. I hated it because I couldn't figure out how to soothe my child. What kind of mother could I possibly be if I can't even soothe my child? How could I sit here and love this little human so much, but hate the responsibility of being her mother? I just wanted a break. Okay, maybe I wanted more than a break. I wanted to run away. Constantly. It wasn't PPD, but it was heartbreaking. I cannot put into words the love I have and have always had for my little girl. I have always felt connected to HER. But it took a long time to feel connected to the word "mother". I was failing miserably, and I hated myself for it. I hated that I had no help, and that I could never escape. I hated that those first 7 months were filled with nothing but tears, from both of us. I could change a diaper with my eyes closed, but listen to a child scream endlessly? Forget it. I wanted to leave my life, and start over. I figured Lily was better off without me. When things finally got better, I realized it was okay to feel the way I felt. That it is human to feel overwhelmed when you're a mother. And it was around then that I also realized just how amazing my bond with Lily really was. Because I spent all that time holding her, singing to her, rocking her, we formed this incredible connection. She had absolutely zero doubts in me. She knew I would do whatever I needed to do for her. You could see it in her eyes just how much she loved me. Only then did I realize I didn't hate being a mother, I hated watching my baby suffer. I hated that I couldn't take the pain away. And honestly, I hated being so exhausted.

I feel like the next 5 months flew by. Lily learned to crawl, got her first teeth, pulled herself to standing, she was constantly blabbering, she learned her first real words, she was eating solids regularly, drinking bottles, sleeping, laughing. I finally felt like this is what being a mom was all about. Cherishing the accomplishments, making memories, having fun. By the time her first birthday came around, I truly couldn't believe we made it. How many times had I wanted to run away? How many times did I say I'm done? How many times did I cry for hours because I was so emotionally and physically exhausted? But yet, there we were. 1 whole year behind us. By that first year mark, Lily had begun the transition to dairy, and was off her antacid, and it went amazingly. I finally had a happy, pain free baby girl. She was finally living the life she deserved, smiles and all. We had survived. Her first birthday wasn't just a huge milestone for her, but for me too. It was a celebration for the both of us.

Now, we've almost survived another year together. In just 17 days, my sweet baby will be 2. I wouldn't say it was easier. This last year came with it's own set of challenges. And I definitely wanted to run away more than once. But it's also had it's share of incredible memories. Lily learned to walk, run, and talk. Approaching 2, it was very rare to hear a babble. She speaks in sentences, and knows everything. If she doesn't know something, she's eager to learn about it. She's got an amazing personality. She's funny, sweet, loving, endearing, and emotional. But Lord knows I could kill her sometimes. I often wonder if my neighbors think I'm a terrible mother when they hear me screaming, "LILY I SAID DO NOT TOUCH THAT" 800 times in a row. I wonder if they think I'm skinning her alive when she screams that high pitched scream for 10 minutes. And when I leave the room and go downstairs just to find some silence, I ask myself why I ever thought I could be a mother.

But through it all, that big, BIG love is always there. That fierce, limitless love. The kind of love that drives me crazy, and keeps me sane. My love for my little girl is unwavering. It asks the hard questions, and it puts up a good fight. And even on our worst days, I am reminded constantly just how loved I am in return.