MOTHERHOOD IS HARD


Sometimes, you go through three pairs of sleepers in a single night.


The first change comes at 3 in the morning (when baby should be sleeping) because he’s leaked through his diaper and onto his clothes.


The second one comes at 6:30 after he’s peed all over you, himself, and your bed (on your only set of sheets. Reminder: go buy some more PRONTO… this isn’t the first time).


Last night was a rough night in the Cervantes household. Clearly.


After two rough days of nap refusals and subsequent fussiness, last night was hard.


Caleb has very recently taken to sleeping through the night. We had three nights of eight hours or more in a single stretch. I honestly felt like a new woman this week. Prior to those long stretches, Caleb had gone from his original three hour stretches to five hour stretches. So yeah… eight and nine hour nights? Godsends!


Last night though… not so much. Caleb was up every three hours, reminding me of the very early days (my baby is already almost two months old! There are EARLY days now! Where has the time gone?).


I was frustrated after a long, hard day of sitting in the same spot on the couch, alternating between feeding him on demand every two hours, and soothing him whenever he cried almost immediately after each feeding. Twice, he finally dozed off, and when I set him down for a bit of relief, he’d instantly wake up, screaming yet again. When it was time to go to bed, I was glad the day was finally over. From the couch to the bed; sometimes, this is just how my day goes with a new baby.


But he woke up just three hours later. Jerry had just gotten home from working a 10 hour day and I made him take over baby duty; I just couldn’t handle the shrieks anymore. When he finally went back to sleep, I figured he’d do his long stretch. I was wrong; he was up again in three short hours.


Days and nights like this, I am endlessly frustrated. I get tired and mean. I feel unlike myself. Then I feel guilty and wonder if I’m a horrible mom for feeling this way. How can I be frustrated? He’s just a baby!


Motherhood is hard. It is SO, SO hard.


Motherhood is harder than pregnancy.


Motherhood is harder than losing over 100 pounds.


Motherhood is harder than running a half-marathon.


Hell, motherhood is even harder than childbirth. I didn’t think there was anything more difficult than that.


I’ve done all of these hard, impossible things, but nothing could ever prepare me for the difficulty of motherhood. And some nights? It’s just way harder than others.


After this horrible day and night, in which all I wanted to do was cry and scream, I looked over at my sleeping baby, finally resting at 7 A.M. this morning. There he was next to me, dreaming away in his Rock and Play in his terry cloth lion pajamas (lion feet, lion butt), flailing his little arms everywhere. His face was peaceful with his cute double chin and lack of a neck, and God, how I loved him in that moment, the calm after the storm for both him and I.


Caleb and I? We’re in this for life. He is my son, my baby, no matter how difficult it gets. And even when he’s older and the sleepless nights are gone, I will still be his mom. I will ALWAYS be his mom. That’s a special thing to be – someone’s mom. It overwhelms me sometimes. It terrifies me, really. Then he smiles at me, and my heart basically explodes every single time. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how frustrated I am, no matter how many tears are shed (both his and mine), I will love him, I will forgive myself for my frustrations, and I will be the best mom I know how to be.

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