“Do you really think you would enjoy this?” I said to my husband over our fajitas last night. “Do you really think you would like staying home, day after day after day with them?”
He looked rather sheepishly down at his plate of rice and beans and shook his head.
I nodded, triumphantly stabbing my grilled pepper with satisfaction, glad it would seem, for some validation, some acknowledgment that it’s hard.
It’s hard, isn’t it, in a maddening way, because really, it shouldn’t be hard. I can stay in my jammies all day if I want (even though that makes me feel even worse) and I get to be with these little ones whose childhood is oh-so-fleeting and I’m the most ungrateful person in the world because all of this could get snatched away from us at anytime.
I am having one of those moments.
When it feels like I just.can’t.take.it.one.more.second.
I’m sure it’s a combination of the mid-pregnancy grumps, a teensy bit of fear of the coming summer of heat and swollen feet, and a whole lot of doubt in my ability to start from scratch all over again with a tiny, squalling newborn.
I’m scared not to sleep again. I feel like I can’t survive without sleep again.
I have such a hard time fighting my selfishness as a mother, the side that huffs about not being able to sleep in and never, ever having nice hair (ok, so that was pre-motherhood too), the part of me that just wishes that one thing could go smoothly in my life. (Seriously, last night, I just wanted to take a walk with the kids–and it was a 20-minute scream fest because Jake would.not.sit.in.the.stroller. Who are these kids in other moms’ pictures that just sit contentedly in strollers? Mine have never done that. Sigh.)
It’s been about a week or two of feeling just a little scrambled, just a little overwhelmed, just a little exhausted, more than a little guilty, and feeling torn between not wanting to be pregnant, but holy crap, not at all ready for life with a newborn again.
But is it ok to feel like this? To have those days when you aren’t loving motherhood?
I mean, after all, it’s ok for my husband to admit that this work wouldn’t come naturally to him–and although it has come naturally to me in many ways, it’s not always easy for me and there are obviously parts of me that aren’t solely fulfilled by 24/7 life with little people at home.
But I’m coming to see that’s ok.
I don’t have to love every minute.
But I had better start being sure to fill my minutes with love.