Caleb has taken to shrieking lately.
His face turns red and his hands and head vibrate in frustration as he lets out an ear-piercing wail.
I know he’s doing it in frustration, trying to express a need or want that he can’t yet express in words. But when I know his diaper is changed and he’s already eaten, I grow in frustration too as I try desperately to figure out what he wants so that the shrieking will just please, please stop.
Soon the guilt sets in, as I raise my voice, asking, “what? What do you want, Caleb?! Stop with the shrieking already!”
After one such shriek-fest and subsequent Mama freak out last night, he didn’t even reach his arms out to me when I tried to pick him up later. He knew I was frustrated and he didn’t want me.
Talk about feeling like a failure of a mother.
This brings me back to the earliest days of motherhood, when I thought it would be easy and natural but it turned out to be the exact opposite. I didn’t (still DON’T) always know what he wanted or needed, and I grew and grow frustrated when he’s acting out.
I sometimes see these other mothers who seem to just “get it.” They go on and on about how wonderful it all is, how they don’t even mind the exhaustion, how they LOVE it in fact, because the 2 AM feedings are good for bonding. Meanwhile I’m over here like… “I’m exhausted. I’m frustrated. I just want to lie down for a little while.”
Then I start to wonder, am I missing something? Because I’m awfully envious that motherhood seems to be so natural for some mothers, while I’m over here flailing and trying to do the right thing and sometimes missing the mark entirely.
I should make one thing clear right now. Just because it hasn’t been easy, just because it hasn’t been natural, just because it’s been the hardest thing in the world for me doesn’t mean I don’t love my son. I love my son just as much as those natural mothers do. I love my son more than I knew I was capable of loving. I love my son and I am doing the best that I know how to do for him.
So sometimes he shrieks and it’s probably the most obnoxious thing he has yet learned to do. I instantly feel my heart start to race and my anxiety skyrocket, nearly through the roof.
But sometimes he laughs and laughs at my antics, and I couldn’t imagine anything better in the world… the most beautiful noise I’ve yet to hear.
Surely, I’ve done something right.
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