I Find Myself Smiling

I fear that saying what I'm going to say will end the good fortune which has befallen me. So, I shall whisper it to you.

Since writing my scathing assessment of Shel's colic, she has miraculously improved. She cries, but I remind myself that this is a symptom of being a baby. She is no longer inconsolable. I pray that the evil known as colic will remain at bay. Hail ye o gripe water and pacifier. Thank you internets for all your advice and links and well-wishes. I know you helped. You always do.

The past few days have been wonderful. I've actually enjoyed motherhood.

This is so vastly different than how I felt when Peanut was a newborn. I felt not one bit of joy being his Mother in those early days that were filled with inconsolable crying (his and my own), mastitis, and sleepless nights. I felt so cheated. I don't think I smiled for the three months after his birth, except for a few pictures and that was only to be polite.

With Peanut, I kept waiting for the next step, the next developmental milestone. I'd tell myself that once he was one month old, I only had two months left of crying. At two months, I knew I only had a month left.

I was so afraid of the infant Peanut. He was an angry old man whom nothing but my breast or sleep from sheer exhaustion could calm. I feared leaving the house for I knew Peanut would cry and everyone would know what a horrible Mother I was. I didn't want anyone to know how I was utterly incapable of soothing my son and I didn't want anyone to know that he hated me.

I missed out on so much, in that waiting game with Peanut. I failed to notice or enjoy his good days because I was always waiting for him to start crying. When he finally came out of his colic stupor, I finally began to enjoy him. But, I continued to fear him and wait for him to smile, to roll over, to crawl...

This time, I want to experience and savor my baby. When I was dealing with the traumatic start to breastfeeding and when she first started showing the signs of colic, I felt such anger and despair. Now that things seem to have improved, I find myself smiling. I find myself enjoying her newness, not wanting her to grow up. She'll only be little this once.

I breathe in her smell. I watch her when she's sleeping, when she quietly alert. She makes me happy like I did not know an infant could. I find myself not wanting to lay her down. I want to hold her tiny body, close to mine because I know she'll soon be big and not want to be held.

I find myself smiling.