"Maybe you should blog on a [miserable] day like today so people don't think your life is so perfect."
Only a mom could be so honest, right?
Some time back, I posted this status on facebook: So, instagram and Facebook help make everyone's lives look perfect. I'm here to honestly say that though our pictures are gorgeous, especially in Maui right now, and though life is sweeter than ever with our daughter home, life still presents challenges. I never want to make others feel down or negative with my posts or pictures. We all have celebrations. We all have struggles. (Ty's response is, "Preach it, Sister.")
We were in Hawaii, having a less than stellar time, and I just felt like all the cuteness and smiling and tan faces were so misleading for how I really felt on that trip. And after my mom's comment, perhaps my blog appears that way, also.
I want to be real with others, but I also am a very private person with my struggles. And, to be honest, if I don't feel a connection with someone, their struggles make me uncomfortable. The whole "don't air your dirty laundry in public" rings true to me.
At the same time, I do not care for fake. The result is my reserved personality, and, as it seems, a reserved blog.
In an attempt to process this dilemma, here is my dirty laundry. You were warned.
Two nights ago, through tears, I said to Ty, "I miss our life before." I meant "before we had a daughter," but I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence. It just felt so wrong to voice that. The truth is, I am grieving for the way things used to be. I miss who I used to be, who my husband used to be and what our marriage was. It's just all so stinkin' complicated now. Nothing seems simple anymore. We don't seem to laugh together as much. The ease of being together is no more.
It's been four months! The pieces of this life should just all fit together nicely by now. I should be looking at my husband with our daughter in his arms and be so much more magically in love with him because he is the father of our child (instead of thinking, "will she stay with him long enough for me to shower?").
After four months, I should know how to put Lainey to bed so she falls asleep peacefully and without drama. I should know if she is throwing a tantrum because she is a spoiled child or because she is constipated.
Because Lainey has transitioned smoothly to our home, the pressure is colossal. The pressure to have this mothering thing perfected is heavy. It's hard to let myself off the hook when I read about the grief adopted children go through because Lainey seems to be doing fine. (It's me who isn't always fine!) I read and hear stories about the struggles other adoptive families go through and I think, "What the heck do I have to complain about?" And yet, I've managed to ramble my way through four paragraphs of complaints.
Guilt is a heavy burden, isn't it? Guilty for enjoying and sharing a great life. Guilty for struggling and baring weakness.
I know guilt is pretty typical for mothers, but what about comparing? I find I'm always comparing our situation with Lainey to other families. Traditional and adoptive families. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a race. Always looking ahead and behind me for others. My competitive nature, I suppose.
Well, that's it for now. Except, I'm asking for grace as you read this. I'm taking a risk and not re-reading this post to edit before clicking "Publish." :)
Only a mom could be so honest, right?
Some time back, I posted this status on facebook: So, instagram and Facebook help make everyone's lives look perfect. I'm here to honestly say that though our pictures are gorgeous, especially in Maui right now, and though life is sweeter than ever with our daughter home, life still presents challenges. I never want to make others feel down or negative with my posts or pictures. We all have celebrations. We all have struggles. (Ty's response is, "Preach it, Sister.")
We were in Hawaii, having a less than stellar time, and I just felt like all the cuteness and smiling and tan faces were so misleading for how I really felt on that trip. And after my mom's comment, perhaps my blog appears that way, also.
I want to be real with others, but I also am a very private person with my struggles. And, to be honest, if I don't feel a connection with someone, their struggles make me uncomfortable. The whole "don't air your dirty laundry in public" rings true to me.
At the same time, I do not care for fake. The result is my reserved personality, and, as it seems, a reserved blog.
In an attempt to process this dilemma, here is my dirty laundry. You were warned.
Two nights ago, through tears, I said to Ty, "I miss our life before." I meant "before we had a daughter," but I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence. It just felt so wrong to voice that. The truth is, I am grieving for the way things used to be. I miss who I used to be, who my husband used to be and what our marriage was. It's just all so stinkin' complicated now. Nothing seems simple anymore. We don't seem to laugh together as much. The ease of being together is no more.
It's been four months! The pieces of this life should just all fit together nicely by now. I should be looking at my husband with our daughter in his arms and be so much more magically in love with him because he is the father of our child (instead of thinking, "will she stay with him long enough for me to shower?").
After four months, I should know how to put Lainey to bed so she falls asleep peacefully and without drama. I should know if she is throwing a tantrum because she is a spoiled child or because she is constipated.
Because Lainey has transitioned smoothly to our home, the pressure is colossal. The pressure to have this mothering thing perfected is heavy. It's hard to let myself off the hook when I read about the grief adopted children go through because Lainey seems to be doing fine. (It's me who isn't always fine!) I read and hear stories about the struggles other adoptive families go through and I think, "What the heck do I have to complain about?" And yet, I've managed to ramble my way through four paragraphs of complaints.
Guilt is a heavy burden, isn't it? Guilty for enjoying and sharing a great life. Guilty for struggling and baring weakness.
I know guilt is pretty typical for mothers, but what about comparing? I find I'm always comparing our situation with Lainey to other families. Traditional and adoptive families. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a race. Always looking ahead and behind me for others. My competitive nature, I suppose.
Well, that's it for now. Except, I'm asking for grace as you read this. I'm taking a risk and not re-reading this post to edit before clicking "Publish." :)
Watch for an email from me in the VER near future.
ReplyDeleteHugs.
Motherhood is seriously the hardest job in the world, and I've told you this before: I get it and you are not alone.
ReplyDeleteEVERY mother feels this way from time to time. It doesn't make your love for her any less or any than "traditional" mothers. We are each our own worst critique. And yes the guilt! I have said recently, "I thought Catholic guilt was bad, but it doesn't have a thing on mother's guilt!"
Wish I was there to have a mimosa with you and vent and laugh together. I am here anytime you need to talk. No judging...because I am certain I have thought the same things.
Life is more complicated. I miss lots of things too. She is precious. You are doing an incredible job.
Be kind to yourself friend.
Thanks for posting this. I am also allergic to 'fake' so this was refreshing to read. Let me just say that I HEAR YA. And also, 4 months is really really short in the grand scheme of motherhood. I had a really hard time with the transition between 0 and 1 kids. Way harder than going from 1 to 2, because the hard part wasn't the kid, necessarily, it was ME figuring out how to be me in a whole new lifestyle. It's tough. Give yourself grace as much as possible! Hugs to you three.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was 4 months pregnant with Aidan I met my friend who asked me if I was excited. My response was, "I think I have buyers remorse...like when you get a new car but realize hell now I have to make the payments!". It got better. Then we got the twins, and it was all I could do to smile at anyone because it was hard and I could barely love them for how much work it was. It got better. Joey is a freakin' disobedient defiant nightmare at the moment. I am hoping like all the rest it gets better. Stay real. It will get better.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your raw honesty! I recently felt something similar...like "what did I do to my easy life?" I miss being able to do what I want when I want it...excercise, date night, book group. I have to remind myself...that it does get better. It does get easier.
ReplyDelete