Dear Mama of a Very Little Baby,
I see you walking your fussy baby around the block. Again and again. And then again. I see the light in your window at 3:37 a.m. I saw it last night too. You are not alone. You are part of a secret tribe. A tribe of women all marching their way through the dark days. The dark days of early motherhood. How do I know this? Because I was one of your number.
I love you mama. For not shaking your baby. I love you for gently reswaddling your squirmy, screamy bundle of sweetness. For putting that baby to your breast again. For warming yet another bottle and gently putting it to her lips. I love you for bravely bundling your baby and taking him to Book Babies at your local library even though it would be easier to stay, bleary eyed, in your own home. I see you carefully shepherding our next generation and I am grateful.
I see you struggling to get that well-bundled baby out of the carrier and into the car seat. I see the telltale stain on your chest that says, again, your milk leaked and probably you are embarrassed. But I look at this and I celebrate you! I see you pulling at the waistband of your maternity pants and I know you are wishing that you weren’t still wearing them. But let me tell you, you are killing it sister! You look great. You are lovely and strong and fierce and your body grew a baby! A whole human! Well done by you!
I know you are trying to get your head above the weeds. You will make it out. It will get easier. I know this because I used to be part of your tribe. You will not always feel so alone. So isolated and lonely. Your hormones will not always play tricks on you. Things will normalize. Someday your sweet, sweet baby will not torture you with sleep deprivation. Your brain will start to function again. Maybe not to full pre-baby competency, but better than now. You will cry less often. I promise.
I love you and celebrate your strength. What you are doing now is so so difficult. Maybe the most difficult. You are a champion and I salute you.
Much love and admiration,
Your fellow Mama
(From the other side of the weeds)