Dear Noodle,
That is what we've taken to calling you. I'm not sure how or why it started, but from day one we started calling you noodle and it just stuck.
Little girl, you have been the center of our lives for a whole month now. It is crazy to believe that you are already a month old. I've only now been able to sit down and share some of my thoughts. Believe me when I stay you are a time stealer. You have the power to speed up time or make it go by agonizingly slow. I'm not sure how you do it, but I do know that you came with so much more power than I anticipated.
John Mayer was playing when you were born. In fact, it's one of my favorite songs that he sings. Edge of Desire. Granted, it's not the most child appropriate song, and to be honest John Mayer is definitely a problematic person, but I'm still happy with the way it all turned out. I still remember hearing you cry for the first time and looking at your father with shock and joy. I'm not sure I've ever experienced such raw joy like that before.
Giving birth to you came with a tsunami of emotions that I was not expecting. Because you were stubborn, I had to have a c-section. Looking back I don't regret that decision at all, in fact, it was probably the best thing to have happened. In the moment though, it was one of the hardest things I've experienced. I didn't feel much pain when they were pulling you out; my body was actually very good to me. What I did fight was battle after battle in my mind.
Unbeknownst to me I was feeding myself lies. I told myself if I didn't work hard in labor to give birth to you, then I didn't deserve you. I guess I was expecting a little more work and pain on my end, and I didn't experience much at all. After you were born I kept asking your father if you were really our child. It didn't feel real. YOU didn't feel real. Everyone kept telling me how proud they were of me, and I didn't understand why. I didn't feel like I deserved their praise.
I was expecting to instantly become attached to you when they placed you in my arms. But it didn't happen. I felt numb, inside and out. I kept expecting this wave of love to wash over me and it wasn't there. I felt like a single girl standing on a dock waiting for a ship that would never arrive.
I then began questioning what was wrong with me, if I was meant to be a parent, and terrified that people would come take you away since I didn't feel any love.
Postpartum hormones are a bitch.
Looking back I realize that I have a bad habit of placing emotions, feelings, and expectations on life events and if I don't feel those things or it doesn't meet my expectations, then I am disappointed and feel like a failure. This is what I did when you were born.
Granted, a lot of it wasn't my fault, because I was coming down from a hormone and adrenaline rush that could power a spaceship to Mars. But I wasn't in the right headspace going in. I place a lot of expectations on myself and often deem myself as a failure. I am very rarely gentle, nor do I ever give myself grace.
I tell your dad to give himself grace and compassion all the time. I realize that I should probably listen to my own advice. After a month of taking care of you I realize that you are going to continually blow my expectations out of the water. I have already failed you multiple times. Little did I know that you would be a crash course in learning how to give myself grace.
Now when people tell me I am doing a good job, I try to absorb those words, even when I myself don't agree. I'm taking praise and grace and stuffing it into my pockets to save up for the days where you are screaming and I am at a loss as to what to do.
I am learning that nothing is going to go as planned when it comes to you, and I have to learn to take each day as it comes. I now realize that I have plenty to be proud about when it comes to your birth. While I felt no pain during your delivery, I did experience the worst pain of my life in the healing process afterwards. Even if I hadn't experienced any pain at all, I still would have achieved something to be proud of.
While the love didn't come sailing in like a giant ship that day, it did come in the passing days. It came in midnight feedings, during the moments I listened to music and held you on my chest. It came when I was watching your father hold you and tell you about his day.
It came when I learned that loving you was my greatest achievement yet.
Love,
Your mother
