“Sleep when the baby sleeps!”
I started hearing it the day Theo was born. Actually, I probably started hearing it way before then, but it’s likely that I didn’t pay much attention. I just filed it under “obvious advice is obvious,” and thought nothing more of it. Of course I was going to sleep when the baby slept. Just like of course I was going to have a natural birth, breastfeed like a champ and have a kid who slept through the night at six weeks. Because, unlike all the other moms in the world, I’d read all the right books, bought all the right products, and participated in a million online discussions about how not to fuck up your kid. I was so set.
I was sure that motherhood was going to be so fulfilling. I mean, yeah, I knew it would be hard, but hard in a being-super-brave-through-tough-times-like-Florence-Nightingale sort of way, not hard in a grinding, miserable, I-hate-my-life way. Surely I would come out of those long, desperate, sleepless nights glowing with motherly love, just happy to have been able to offer my screaming child even a modicum of comfort. Surely I would be happy to sacrifice any and everything for my kid.
Surely I would never, ever resent him.
After Theo was born, people kept reminding me to sleep when he slept. But I didn’t want to; I wanted to stay awake and just stare and stare at this amazingly tiny new human I’d just created. I’d just made an entire new person that had never existed before – how could I be expected to sleep after doing that? Besides, I remember thinking, I’ll sleep later. Because, up until that moment in my life, there had always been a later. Whenever I’d had a long week at work, I’d been able to plan to sleep in on the weekend. I’d been able to look forward to vacations when Matt and I could grab catnaps together between fun activities. I’d always, always been been able to think ahead to a time when I would be able to catch up on my sleep, maybe even take some kind of sleeping aid to ensure maximum restfulness.
When you become a parent, there never seems to be a later when it comes to sleep. You either grab it when you can, or you go without. Not long after Theo was born, I learned the hard way that I couldn’t do the former – when Theo slept, I was too anxious to rest, and when I did finally manage to fall asleep, I was awakened by every. single. tiny. noise he made. I don’t know if it was because I was so fucked up on hormones, or if it was the postpartum depression beginning to rear its ugly head, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep when he slept.
And you know what’s the worst? Not being able to sleep when you are bone-fucking-tired and you know that your kid is going to wake up screaming soon and then you won’t get to sit down for the next five hours.
At some point towards the end of that hazy first week of motherhood, I remember thinking, ”When is someone coming to take this baby away so that I can go back to my real life?”
And then I realized that this baby was mine, and no one was going to take him away, and this was my real life now.
With that thought came a bizarre mixture of guilt over wanting to go back to my non-baby life, and blind panic of the “holy shit I have a kid, what the fuck have I just done?” variety.
In all the months I’d spent preparing to have a kid, I’d never fully realized what it would be like to have a kid.
Sometimes having a kid sucks. A lot. I love him, and I love being his mom, but sometimes I’m so tired of being a mom, anyone’s mom. Sometimes I just want to be myself. I want to go back to my old life, the life where I slept in on weekends, watched TV whenever I wanted to, and sometimes spent all day having sex with my husband. It doesn’t help that my life now bears a striking surface resemblance to my old life; I live in the same apartment, wear many of the same clothes, eat the same foods. I even look pretty much the same, except that I’m a cup size bigger than I was (thanks, breastfeeding!). I’m surrounded by reminders of the way I used to live.
It also doesn’t help that most of my friends still, in some ways, live in my old life, staying out late, drinking too much, and going to the bathroom without having a toddler follow them to watch them pee. And I promise that I’m not trying to be all, having a kid is so hard and my non-mom friends don’t get it, but let’s be honest: most of them don’t, really, in the same way that I didn’t get it, either. And I’m jealous that they don’t get it, jealous that they don’t have to watch what they eat or drink or smoke because they’re afraid of contaminating their breast milk, jealous that they can go to bed and not have a whimpering toddler wake them up five times a night, jealous that when they go home at the end of the day, their work is done, while mine lasts forever and ever and ever.
Sometimes I’m so tired of being a mom.
Sometimes I’m so fucking tired. Period.
And you know what sucks the most? Knowing that all of this is my fault. I don’t mean so much in the sense that I chose to have a kid (although that is true), but more that I haven’t done any sleep-training, haven’t tried too hard to night-wean and, at 24 months old, still can’t really imagine being away from him overnight. Know why? Because I’m a wuss, that’s why. Every time I think about sleep-training Theo, I think of all the crying that will be involved, and I wince. I’m not the crying-it-out-will-ruin-your-kid-forever type, but you know what? I just can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Hearing him cry makes me feel like every nerve in my body is on fire. And it’s one thing to hear my kid cry because I won’t let him splash his hands in the toilet; it’s another when he’s crying because he just wants to be held, or sung to, or breastfed.
And that’s why my 24-month-old still sleeps in my room and still breastfeeds pretty much whenever he wants at night. Because I am too tired and too wussy to do anything about it.
I’m tired and you guys?
Sometimes I still miss my old life. A lot.
And that makes me feel really awful.
Thank you for this post (and the few beforehand). Just…thank you. I’ve had a lifetime of emotional and verbal abuse from my mother who denied her own severe PPD. To see someone who cares for her son enough to acknowledge and seek help for this sort of thing just…okay, I’ll stop the awkward rambling. You’re a much better mother than you think you are.
Oh man, that’s awful. I’m so sorry you went through that.
I don’t want to ever be a mom that Theo resents (I mean, other than in the normal teenager ways or whatever). I made him, and I love him, and I’m responsible, and I just want to whatever I can to be a good mom to him.
Thanks for sharing your story <3
Amazing Mom who is just SO in debt to sleep. And you know what? I’ve been there.. but there does come a time when you will sleep again. I remember being at that “My kid is 2 and STILL hasn’t slept through the night ” stage. The. Worst.
Thing is, I, just like you, was too in love to break his little heart, too wussy to take on those long sleep training nights, too alone in the battle to take on any advice from another “mother”-in-arms. Around 2 I did however begin to schedule his feedings vs not.. that helped. I then decided to take a well-deserved night out (not all night, but 3am certainly feels like all night when you haven’t even managed to be away longer than 4 h after bedtime). I started by talking to my son about cutting down on milk.. so he could have it when he went to bed, when the sun woke up and at naptime. The talking really helped soothe my soul, and his as well. We talked about it every time we went to nurse. Talked about it through the day. It was a thing. It was huge changes. It was SO BRAVE. I won’t lie, there was guilt, but it made ME feel so better… and for once in a VERY long time I found myself feeling stronger from the inside out. Like, truly stronger. Like I did something for ME that wasn’t the most selfish but indeed took a lot of self-convincing.. and it paid off. By 2 years 3 months I had to wean. I had planned to self-wean, as you may know, but I found myself too touched out to enjoy our nursing relationship any longer and I didn’t want to remember it in an ugly way, because it was truly beautiful, even the hard bits. It takes a lot of perseverance on your part to be able to have the strength to say “OK.. he is my first priority… but if that is true than where do I come in?”
Putting yourself first becomes something of the past as a Mama, and I want you to know that it is A.OK to put yourself as #1 priority, because if you don’t.. sooner or later you will find yourself a person who you just can’t stand any longer.. and come on Mama, you are a pretty amazing lady, would you REALLY want to be without yourself?
Maybe these are the wrong words to say, but I wish someone had said the same to me at a time when I had nothing left in me instead of just feeling like I am made of fail.
Sometimes I am tired of being a mom too, but much less than I did this time last year. Much, much less.
Love & Bravery,
Meaghan
Oh Meag, this is so inspiring. You have no idea. I really look up to you as a mom.
And you’re right, I WOULDN’T want to be without myself.
xoxoxo
I have lots of things I could say about this, but just wanted to share about breastfeeding specifically…oh man, breastfeeding a toddler is NOTHING like breastfeeding a wee baby….I have had many moments in the last 6 months where I’ve been sobbing that I want my body back, I want to enjoy being touched again…..there are still times when I do enjoy it, but on weekends (when she tends to nurse more) or when she’s having a marathon session, it often does make my skin crawl, makes me feel like I’m completely disconnecting from my body and I have to fight every urge to just pull her off and run away. Which…happened last night actually, and after an hour I did give into the urge and S took over and she was FINE (while I was crying and beating myself up in the kitchen).
Then I feel horrible and guilty….I want her to self-wean when she’s ready but man, I don’t know…it’s hard, I’ve read so much stuff about all the benefits of extended breastfeeding and then I feel like an asshole, and I know that part of me will miss it when it’s gone, and I’ll probably feel like kicking myself for not ‘enjoying every minute’ or something. Ugh. I thought I’d be one of those crunchy-granola moms who would be breastfeeding up until 3 or 4 but yeah, I don’t see that happening.
Right now I’m just focusing on setting reasonable limits. One step at a time.
Anyway, I don’t have anything super helpful other than yeah…I can relate to a lot of what you are saying. And not getting enough sleep is just really, really hard.
I’ve become really good at cutting off nursing sessions, and Theo will repeat me when I say “all done!” or “last one!” (as in “last side” because he always asks to nurse on the other side … then the other side … then the other side). But before this phase – yeah, it was getting to be brutal.
Be gentle with yourself – I wish I could say something to take your guilt away, because you’re a fantastic mom.
I promise that reasonable limits will come soon!
AMEN.
Let me say it again.
AFUCKINGMEN.
Says the mother of three girls, ages four, six and eight…the four year old who still cosleeps and asks to nurse (despite being weaned almost two years ago due to the worse case of thrush I’ve ever experienced in my entire eight year nursing career) and the big kids who end up in the family bed several times a week. Amen.
We’ll sleep when they’re in college, right? I mean.
RIGHT???????
In some ways, I can’t wait til he’s a teenager and he’s eating and sleeping all the time!
My sister is in university and still ends up in my mom’s bed sometimes. But I hold out hope!!!!
Thanks
xoxo
Yes. You sleep when they’re in college. As long as they go to college a few hundred miles away.
You women are all brave and strong and so real. Keep hanging in.
As someone who is definitely not a mother, but who is of a similar age, I just want to thank you for this really honest and necessary post. It’s so brave and I rarely hear such honest accounts of motherhood, mental health, what it’s like to have children.
In general, it’s still so taboo to talk about hardships and tough times women experience in motherhood. Mothers are supposed to be so grateful for the joy of birth and giving life, that we forget that they’re human. Mothers are tired and never allowed to be tired. If they’re tired, they’re considered “bad” mothers. And then so many women today walk around feeling silenced with any thoughts and feelings that they have toward motherhood and children that sway from complete joy, happiness and gratitude. We talk about woman’s work as being undervalued, but a mothers’ work particularly gets missed from the conversation. As feminists we need to talk more openly about motherhood.
From the little I’ve read, I think you’re doing an amazing job and shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Take care of yourself.
Hi there. I just found you via blog her. I just wanted to commend you on your honesty and your authenticity. I’m a huge believer in the fact that if more mums were honest with each other, we’d all have more realistic expectations of motherhood from the very beginning. I too suffer from PND/PPD and whilst I know that it’s a chemical condition, I do believe that more truthfulness and honesty goes a long way in making us more aware that everyone really does feel doubtful, resentful and afraid sometimes (albeit some more than others). It makes the more vulnerable amongst us feel less alone.
I’m glad I’ve found you and I’ve just subscribed to your blog. I’ve written lots on similar subjects to this on my blog, you can find it at http://www.mummykindness.com . I’d love your thoughts.
Thank you again for sharing this. The world needs more women like you.
This is a great, honest post. I think PPD is still shrouded in so much mommy-guilt, and so many people are so scared to talk about it, even though so many of us have/have had it! I had severe PPD after my first born, and I am still embarrassed to talk about it, even though I know I shouldn’t be, and in general, I am an honest, outspoken person. I love your blog, lady! Thanks for sharing. Momaste to you! (the mom in me bows to the mom in you…)
After the pain of childbirth comes the elation of seeing your precious baby. After the grogginess of 2:00 a.m. feedings comes the restoration of quiet and the luxury of bed. After years of loving care, changing diapers and thousand of meals served comes the joy of graduation. After their departure from home to live far away comes the blessing of grandchildren.
Live with a focus on future blessing rather than the daily trials. I’d recommend Ann Voskamp’s “A Thousand Blessings”.
Thanks for sharing your experience and to the commenters for sharing theirs! I’m having my first baby in June…HOLY SHIT!!! Definitely not planned. Am excited but definitely have moments of ‘wtf did we just get ourselves into?’ I’m glad to read some real thoughts on the subject of motherhood instead of the usual things I get in my inbox from babybump and related sites. None of my close friends have children and I wasnt exactly planning on having one now…so I had mixed feelings about the whole thing at first, and probably will continue to do so. I felt guilty about that in the beginning but i’m not going to beat myself up about it. its a huge life adjustment and it would be pedestrian to think that a range of emotions wouldnt be tied to the whole experience. i appreciate your post and cant wait to read more!
Parenting is tough work. The reality of having a child who depends on you for *everything* those first few years…and then still relies on you for the next 20? That’s a pretty big reality check. Your life is f.o.r.e.v.e.r. changed. You can never fully prepare for that mentally. And while there are times when you say to yourself “will I EVER get my body back,” there will be other moments when have that toddler snuggled next to you in bed and you’ll think how wonderful your life really is.
You do get your body back. Your kids will wean, probably pretty naturally. (To the mom talking about having her “skin crawl”… time to wean!) And cosleeping and nursing a toddler are not going to “ruin” your children. I honestly think the sleep training is akin to child abuse. Really. Children cry because they have a need that is not being met: comfort, safety, pain, fear, hunger. What is ignoring that need going to teach your child? That you won’t be there for her? That you really don’t care for her at night? Um, yeah. That’s what I want my child to learn.
Just like “sleep when the baby sleeps” has become an axiom, so too, “these years will pass so fast you won’t believe it.” I have 3 kids whom I adore and who drive me stark raving bonkers at the same time. The oldest is almost 16. And he still snuggles in bed once in a while with my hubby and me. Yes, we argue like cats and dogs over grades and chores and whose turn it is to take the garbage out, but he is–and will always be–that little munchkin who nursed at my breast and who somehow crawled inside my heart. My daughters are 13 and 9. I have no regrets for having had them in bed with my husband and I. Yes, there were times when the dh and I would look at each other and sigh, but it has only strengthened our relationship and our love. I look back on those nursing and toddler years with affection and a bit of nostalgia. Do I miss changing diapers? Getting kicked in the kidneys? Feeling like my body had been switched out with a cow? No. But I do miss the constant closeness–and rightness–of having a little child next to me.
I send my kids out into the world hopefully. They are smart, resilient, capable people. They are good problem solvers. Best yet, they are supported by a thoughtful, reasoning family and they are wrapped in our love. You give a gift with your parenting choices.
I feel a little awkward leaving a comment here because I’m only 20 years old, am not a mother, and I am nowhere even close to being ready to find someone to settle down with. I’m not even finished with college. I have zero experience with kids, except for babysitting but that’s a speck of dirt compared to your motherhood mountain. I still feel like a kid. But I wanted to comment anyway, to say that I know things will get better, and I wanted to tell you a sort of funny story that my parents like to tell me. It still makes us laugh.
I’m the oldest kid in my house. I have my little sister, Sam, who just turned 18. (I’m not even her mother and that was a trip.) When I was born, my mom developed a fever during labor and so I was born with a fever too. Because of that, the moment I was out, they whisked me off to the Infant ICU. My parents had to wait a while to see me, which I imagine was pretty hard. But when they finally did, they were walking down the hallway towards the ICU and they heard this awful noise. This horrible, nightmarish, someone-is-trying-to-murder-me-call-the-fucking-cops scream. Of course they looked at each other and smirked, like “Hah, whose kid is THAT?”
Well, it turned out to be me, and they swear, from age zero to two, the only time I wasn’t crying was when I was strapped into my car seat. My mom had to get up at three in the morning and put me in that car seat to drive me around the neighborhood until I fell back asleep. When they tried to take me out of the seat, I woke up and started crying again, so eventually they learned to just put the whole car seat into my crib and leave me there so I would sleep.
There isn’t really a point to this story, I just hoped I would make you smile. I’m sure it will get better. Good luck, and don’t be so hard on yourself. Nobody’s perfect.
i liked your story, stereostarlight!! i had some similar incidents w/all of my three girls; they are old enough not that i can look back & smile about it – it’s all beloved family lore now!
Hi there. Stumbled across this and had to say Nice Job. Good writing about a tough subject. I am way too pleased for my own good to say I know just what you are saying – the pleased part would be that I survived and never have to do that sh*t again!! Breastfeeding was the easiest and then the hardest of the stumbling blocks for me. I did about 6 1/2 yrs almost straight (I got 3 months off in between kids while pregnant thanks to a terrible stomach flu) My youngest made it to 3 1/2 before a well timed trip dried me up. My first offer is “The No-Cry Sleep Book” (I think that’s the name) which helped me set limits with out the crying. I think you need to listen to yourself – don’t let your child cry. You feel the way you do because you should listen. But you can do that in a way that doesn’t negate yourself.
I don’t have any advice for you. All the advice I got – much of it good – just couldn’t get through. But you will survive and you are a good mom, and it will be fine. These things that seem life and death will fade, and you will get, if not your old life back, a new life, that isn’t what you are living right now.
I thought I would miss nursing, but I don’t. I thought I would miss it like a hole in my heart. But I don’t. I enjoy my kids now, and the good things they bring now. And it is a relief to know that each stage has its place and I don’t have to pine away for what I’ve lost. It’s still there, and I’m glad I had it, but I don’t miss it.
Take care and keep writing.
I just read and really enjoyed your post re: Ishtar and Easter. Glancing at your tags, I thought, “wow, she’s writing about the same things I am!” (although much more prolifically) I had to follow the parenting tag, and, viola’, here I am.
I can’t speak from personal experience on ppd, other than having supported my wife while she dealt with a severe bout after our second daughter’s birth. I can only imagine how difficult that must be, knowing how hard it is just dealing with the murky waters of sleep deprivation, let alone the tumultuous hurricane that comes with raging hormones.
I can, however, completely relate to your anxiety and guilt about missing your old life. I put my professional life on hold, in order to be a stay-at-home dad. I had the good fortune to make my main “hobby” my lifestyle and livelihood, so it was a huge part of my identity. Although I knew it was the right thing to do, it took about two years for me to finally “let it go,” and just enjoy the opportunity life had presented to be the best parent I could be.
Still, there are those moments. When the girls are arguing about who said what, I just served them the bacon I burned, being interrupted by a poopy diaper, and we’re late getting out the door to go to school, only to have their baby sister poop her pants yet again. There are those days when I reflect, with a bit of remorse, on the time when I was a respected teacher and prominent leader in the community, in charge of my own destiny.
Ahhh, the glories of parenthood!
That being said, the unequivocal love I have for my children, and the innocent, unquestioning love they give in return are powerful. As hard as it sometimes is, and as illogical as it may be, I wouldn’t change it for the world. (or would I?-just kidding)
Many thanks for the thoughtful posts, and kudos to you for making the time to do it while being a full-time parent. Good luck, and know you’re not alone! I’m looking forward to reading more of your thoughts. When I find the time. Now I’ve gotta cook breakfast.
I found your blog from I Blame the Patriarchy (the post about daughters/sisters/wives), and I’ve landed on this post. It’s just what I needed today–today, that I met with a Sleep Coach to help us figure out a better situation for 26-month-old nursling. I related to lots and lots of what you said–other side, other side, other siiiiide!–and I am grateful for this Internet connection.
Haaaah there are days when I think that if I never hear the words “other side” ever again, I’ll be a very happy person.
I’m glad to have made the connection too <3
Omg I don’t even brstfd and I feel like I’m just sick and tired of catering to my 3yr old’s constant fits,messes and just plain shit. I’m a stay at home mom with NO daycare and this everyday crap my son puts me thru and the resistance he constantly gives me just drives me thru the dam roof!!! I think all the time how I don’t want my son anymore. Period point blank being a fukin mother just sucks and the lack of good sleep doesn’t help at all. I regret choosing 2 be a mom A LOT. Ps. I’m 39 and he’s my only kid 4 a reason. I certainly WON’T be having another child
I was so overwhelmed w one kid, 2 kids was a breeze, & now #3 feels much like #1. It never ends. I love my boys as a Mother should but I too feel defeated. Udderly exhausted. Mentally, physically, & financially. I run NONSTOP errands between food shopping, speech therapy, Occupational therapy, & my son’s Seit therapy. It is NONSTOP. Combined w the mental stress of not sleeping all night ever and trying to avoid the baby needing all of the same services my middle guy needs. My big guy is 7 and idk that it gets any better. It’s a different kind of tired. Kudos to you for nursing!!! My kids never slept w me & for that I have had it easy. Hoping you the best of luck. I just read an article in parents magazine how important it is to keep your own identity.