Musings from a New Mom

Exhaustion and Joy

It’s  9 p.m. as I lay with my husband snoring on one side and my daughter snoring in her bassinet on the other side. He is a lot louder than she, but -

That was the end of that thought. I dropped off to sleep before I could finish it. No longer do I need earplugs, no longer do I restlessly bury my head in the pillow. I’m too tired, and the baby’s longest sleep stretch is the first one of the night so I better enjoy it!

I have always wanted to be a mom, but never spent much time around babies. Mothering a newborn is hard. Harder than I ever dreamed. 

I am a milk cow. My child had a tongue tie and a slight reflux issue. She ate every 45 minutes. I love cuddling her and seeing her grow (we said she was a “2 pound a day gain” … a great compliment from the ranch, although a little over an ounce a day was closer to truth). We’ve extended the time between feeds a little now, but breastfeeding certainly strengthens the mother child bond.

She smiles beautifully when she looks up from nursing. 

Sleeping has always been my favorite hobby. I don’t do it much anymore. Or at least not sequentially. Early eating and tummy issues (seriously, until this week she dirtied 10 diapers a day) didn’t help her dislike of sleep. My husband insisted I stop considering the BabyWise scheduling because we weren’t even in the ballpark of their recommendations.

She loves to have mom in the room.

She was so tiny and so delicate for so long. I couldn’t wash dishes or do anything really holding her, but she didn’t nap for long if I wasn’t holding her. I felt I had accomplished much if I brushed my teeth before lunch. Now she’s grown and I can throw her on one arm and do much, but the to-do lists I made for myself each day through the summer are the length of my lists for the month now. 

She snuggles.

And then there’s the drastic changes in my life because of lifestyle and babies. I can’t keep my house running smoothly when I constantly have to stop and feed the baby. The carseat traumatizes her (she can scream the entire 2 hours to town), so my family doesn’t really like me to go to town alone. Ranch life? It’s great and we don’t have a yearly calendar to follow - but when the cattle buyer wants to come, the cows need gathered, or the milk cow needs fed, guess what takes priority over my plans?

I love cows. And - fortunately - I really love to just spend my days at home.

For every struggle, there is a joy. For every “to-do” item left unchecked, there is a moment to savor. 

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I recently was lent a novel by a friend. It has been years since I had time to read a novel, because once I start, it so hard to stop! Jael took several naps in my lap as I, wrapped in the story, devoured the book.

It was a well-written book, lots of detail as events unfolded, but I was not interested in the details. I was caught by the story line. As is my typical practice, I had to jump ahead and read a few pages at the end just to settle my heart, but still I practiced my greatest speed reading techniques as I rushed to find out “what happened.” Oddly enough, I became as worried about those characters as I am at times over my loved ones. I felt a need to fix the problem, to control a situation that wasn’t even reality, much less mine! I was a little sad when I finished the book, because the story was over. I went back and read parts I knew I had skimmed too fast, savoring the details, enjoying those parts of the story over and more.

I realized as I prepared to return the book that sometimes this is my approach to life. want to jump to the end, put the check on the list, fix the problem. When I cannot, I worry over things beyond my control. The story is not enough for me - I am constantly seeking the ending. 

My husband says that is not how you are supposed to read books, that it defeats the purpose and ruins your enjoyment. We may agree to disagree on our approaches to reading, but of one thing I am sure - it is NOT how I am supposed to approach life. While the very end, heaven, is known (just as in a novel, one is almost assured of a happy ending!), putting a check on the to do’s and finding solutions to the problems would leave my days barren. Being in control of every situation would leave boredom (and incompletion). Worst of all, when life is over, I cannot go back and enjoy the parts I missed or savor the details.

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So my lessons in exhaustion and joy come, I suppose. That I, as a mother, cannot overachieve. I have always pushed myself to accomplish much and to do every task with perfection. I can’t be the perfect mom. I don’t have a perfect child. I can’t even implement parenting techniques perfectly because for every technique there is an equal and opposite technique that seems just as fitting. 

I cannot DO everything I think I should, or everything I want to. Trying to check the lists, to control the situations, to jump past the struggles is a loss. Would I choose to miss the joy or the moments to savor? Would I choose control over the story of life, written and unfolded by the Author Himself?

I can rest in the assurance of Psalm 139:16, that in His book all my members were written, and I choose to obey Galatians 6:14 - God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world. In the exhaustion and discouragement of motherhood, I know that Jesus is enough. In my loss of control and accomplishment, I will glory in what Jesus has done. And I will rest in God’s unfolding story.