Guilt

I am not a perfectionist.  At least I don't think so.  Not normally, anyway.
But the other day as I was looking through some memes about what to "never, ever say to a teacher" and I recalled the parent meeting I had had that morning I realized something big.  I often feel guilty for not being perfect.

• As a teacher I have this idea that I must, at all times, decorate the perfect classroom, have the perfect lesson plans, implement those plans perfectly, perfectly plan with colleagues, and interact perfectly with each and every student at all times regardless of their situation, or mine.  And since I do not do all those things perfectly I often feel that I am a bad teacher, I feel guilty for not being perfect.
• As a woman I have this idea that I must at all times show no weakness for fear that a man, or another woman, might use it as proof that women are the lesser/weaker/slower/undeserving sex.  This ends up making me feel guilty when I need to ask for help.  I feel that I have let myself down if I can't work a full-time job, hang out with friends, have date night, clean house, be crafty, make all foods home-made, read a book, exercise, and keep regular communication with family and friends far and near all the time. 
• As a mom (as of 3 months ago) I obviously want the best for my baby.  But the guilt rises here as well.  Feed her correctly.  Read to her every day.  Let her little behind get air at least once a day.  Take her outside.  Use the correct car seat.  Make her do "belly time" every day.  Use the correct stroller.  Don't strain her eyes with too much sun.  Dress her as cute as a magazine baby.  Don't spoil her.  Use the correct diapers.  Play with her everyday.  Let her explore her world.  Provide stimulating activities everyday.  Give her lots of affection.  Oh, wait, that last one is super easy.  But, honestly! Who decided that all these things have to be done for a baby to survive.  I just end up feeling guilty.

I am now putting those three things together into my life and I just don't have time.  I will fail at being perfect.  And, the big thing I realized was that "its ok."  It is even more impossible than it was when I was chasing only "perfect woman" and "perfect teacher" now that I am looking towards "perfect mom," too.   I know I will, and do, still feel guilty about not achieving a 5-star triple threat status but that big realization kind of lifted the weight off my shoulders.  I wonder how long I will be able to feel at peace about me doing my best, even if its not perfect.

I love my daughter.
But its not like i thought it would be. Like they say it would be.

When the two lines appeared on that pink and white stick i was overwhelmed and more in shock than any specific emotion.

At an early doctors appointment, the first time i saw the tadpole doing flips all around the bubble of my uterus, i was surprised at the moisture that came to my eyes.

Even with all the kicks, somersaults, jabs, and alien movements over the next 6 months, i felt that whatever it was was a foreign body that better not get ruined while in my belly. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea she was my daughter.

As weeks 38, 39, 40, and 41 passed without a single hint of contractions any feelings towards the baby girl i might have developed faded into a big mass of belly with achy and itchy stretch marks. There was no baby. Only pregnancy. Forever.

Finally, i went into labor. Finally a slippery, red, long-limbed human being was laid on the outside of my belly and chest. My doula took pictures of that moment. I just look exhausted. All my feelings were being used up on being grateful the pushing and uncontrollable muscle contractions were over, i didnt have any left for the supposed overwhelming love i was supposed to feel. Israel told me she didnt look like the alien I had warned him about, she was beautiful. I wasnt sure i completely agreed with him.

The first feeling i had about my daughter was "i am going to take care of her" nothing romantic or sweet. Just down to business.

Now she is a few days past a month old.  I am making her my own. I realized today i miss her in my arms when she sleeps longer than usual. I see the funny faces she makes when i close my eyes.  For me, i cant say i feel the maternal, immediate, goggly-eyed, drooling adoration for my daughter that is supposed to switch on the minute i laid eyes on her, if not sooner. The good news is that i have grown past the "its all business" feeling of the first days.

moms worry

another blog instalment of this mom thing.
I am a pretty layback person.  I don't usually get too worked up about very many things.  And i'm not saying i'm worked up now, I'm just saying there have been a few things that keep going through my head in the past 3 weeks.  I will summarize them here:

Is she breathing? is she eating enough? is that much spit-up normal? i think she is choking. she can't breath! she is not eating enough! is she breathing? what is that weird sound she makes when she breaths? why is she sleeping so long? is she too hot? what time did she last eat? is she eating enough? that noise can't be ok! is she breathing? what does that face mean? is she ok? she is hungry! she is eating too much.  is she breathing? She is cold.  She is too hot.  How much spit-up is normal?  is she breathing?  how do you do CPR on a baby? is she hungry? why won't she sleep? is she breathing?

Post pregnancy, post birth, currently baby

There are so many posts about "what nobody told me about having a new born" and things like that.  Well, here is my attempt:
1) no one told me that I would smell like breast milk and sweat all the time
there are other smells too that I can't get away from.  If babies have heightened sense of smell, you would think they would try not to make so many stange smells.  but, really the one that I can't get away from is a strange sweat smell, that i recently realized is actually the smell of breast milk.
2) no one told me that there would be breast milk everywhere!
in a perfect world breast milk would never see the light of day.  in my romantic notions of caring for a tiny baby i imagined a seemless transfer of milk from my breast to her belly.  how wrong i was.  the drips, the leaks, the squirts, the dribbles come at any moment and from both parties involved.
3) no one told me that it takes time (or work?) to feel like a mom
when I was in labor i didn't think about being a mom.  when she was finally born and they layed her on my belly, umbilical chord still attached, i was just too glad it was over to think about being a mom.  when israel cut the chord, I still didn't feel like a mom.  When they gave me my clean, beautiful baby there was something there, a connection, but not what I thought it would be like.  When I sat in the wheel chair holding the perfectly swaddled baby and left the hospital I had the realization that the past two days had NOT been playing pretend.  Now its been more than two weeks and I have moments of feeling like a mom.  thats an improvement I guess, but its not what everyone describes as immediate and overwhelming maternal instinct.
4) no one told me that its not that busy


There are also things that people did (and do) tell me
1) put a sweater on*
my mother-in-law as advice pre-baby so that my milk wouldnt dry up, my grandmother-in-law over the phone after she saw pictures of the baby (and me), the friendly neighborbood convenience store clerk as advice that it would prevent a horrible back ache.
2) you will be tired
3) you will cry
4) it is a lot of work
5) the baby is cold/its because the baby is cold*
6) she will take over your life


*its summer, 80+ degrees F, inside an apartment with little airflow and no air conditioning