Momming is hard.

I’m not sure we can ever fully appreciate our mothers until we become mothers. Those sleepless nights, the tears, the fear you’re doing it all wrong… And yet somehow they never let on that they were scared and confused a lot. They also loved you more then anything, even themselves.

When you have your own baby its like you wake up to all the sacrifices they made for you that you never saw before. They also rocked you for hours at 1am because you had gas and were inconsolable. They also proudly showed you off to their friends and random people on walks. They also watched you grow and change from a wiggly pink blob into a mother yourself.

Most of the time I post here and a few hours later I get a call from my mom or dad, or even my sister, asking not-so-subtly if I’m okay. According to my sister my mom almost always cries after reading my ‘struggle posts’. She worries about me and feels powerless to help.

Folks, my mom helps me every. damn. day.

Just knowing she’s there and that if I really do need her, I only need to ask and she will move mountains.

She has rescued me from horrific hospitals, listened to me cry on the phone, made my childhood loving and supportive (dad did too, don’t worry pops), kept me inspired in med school when things got hard, and more recently visited and told me I was doing great and not to worry.

Mom, when you read this know you are not only are you a good mom- you are the best mom. I hope I can be half as good for G.

Getting off meds

I can’t remember if I had mentioned before but I was/am weaning off meds to breastfeed my son. It was all planned out to be free and clear for his due date. But as we all know- ‘the best laid plans..’ Of course, he INSISTED on arriving 4 weeks early. This meant I had to ramp down my doses faster then originally intended. This, combined with the stress of NICU and normal birth hormone fluctuations means this last 2 weeks have been ROUGH.

I mean, laying sobbing while my baby screams. Sleeping about 3-4 hours a day. Forgetting EVERYTHING, including when last fed baby leading to very cranky baby. TMI but explosive poos for weeks (I have lost so much weight). Hardly eating and then stuffing my face. More crying. Waking up from 20 minute naps feeling like the world is spinning and I’m going to throw up.

Its been hard.

I feel like I am detoxing/depressed/manic most of the time. The first week home I was super mom, now I’m a shipwreck just hoping he stays quiet for at least 30 mins this time. Everyone keeps telling me ‘sleep when the baby sleeps!’ That would imply that I could turn my brain off, which would be lovely. Hubby drops off in 30 seconds. I stare at the ceiling all night, even when I am not ‘on shift’ and am SUPPOSED to be sleeping.

The lactation nurse in the hospital said: ‘you need to be on these meds’. I brushed her off and confidently told her I had felt amazing all pregnancy. Now I’m starting to wonder if she was right. The worst part is G won’t latch and I am still having to pump and bottle feed him. At least its not going down the sink anymore and into my baby. Dumping that bright yellow colostrum out felt like a sin. I keep telling myself (through tears of frustration as he screams in hunger while my boob is right there) that eventually we will figure it out and things will get easier and it will all have been worth it.

Having a baby was my dream for so long and now, through some miracle, I have one. I need to remember that and realize he won’t be a baby forever- I just have to make it out alive.


Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on

I’ve come to the computer several times over the last few days intent on writing, but I open the file and stare at the blinking cursor. It mocks me- counting the seconds as I sit empty. When will the creative juice start flowing again? Right now I feel so much like my old, pre-medicated self. Motivated, confident, able to handle things. Yet I still can’t write!

My mind is completely occupied with the baby. When will they come? Will I be able to do it? Will they be healthy? I know this is just the tempest of motherhood that everyone goes through. I’ve been informed it never goes away- no matter how old your babies get.

My poor mother needs urgent spinal surgery and she is more worried about missing the birth then herself. She wants desperately to be there for her first grandbaby but, as usual, we can’t always get what we want. It will be hard to do without her, but she needs to put her health first and I will send copious pictures.

I’ve been watching lots of deliveries. Some are so beautiful and inspiring- others insight terror. The only common thread is: you never know. Some people are so prepared and things go sideways and they end up with a C-section. Others don’t know what the heck they are doing and push for 10 minutes after a 4-hour labor. Tearing seems to be mostly unavoidable. Still- I’m doing the perineal massage and learning breathing techniques hoping for some magic.

I’m a bit worried about hubby’s ability to stay upright through the birth. A few days ago I ripped my big toe nail off. There was a little blood and the man almost threw up. He INSISTED we go to the walk-in clinic. Despite my arguments that it was a total waste of time I went to appease him (it was definitely a waste of time). He can’t even look at my toe without cringing. He does not want to see anything on the big day- he’s even scared to cut the cord! I’m hoping all the excitement will fortify him because we are only allowed one support person and the glacial Canadian healthcare system is keeping my mother from me.