The First Eight Weeks…

Prior to the arrival of the Baby, I had settled into a routine with the Boy and the Girl – they ate real food, were potty-trained, slept through the night (finally) and dressed and bathed themselves.  I was back at work part-time, and was 15 pounds away from my goal weight.  Flash forward to the present:  a delicate angel enters our lives and with her, brings 3am feedings, diapers galore and unidentifiable cries.  I’m miles away from my goal weight, and have dark, sombre circles around my eyes.

Our darling baby has filled our home with more love and laughter, but also more chaos!

A memory comes to mind of when I had my first child:  A few days after he was born, I vividly remember sitting in the bathtub and sobbing, thinking to myself, “What have I done with my life – this was a mistake. I have no idea what I’m doing and my life will never be the same.”  In a state of desperation, I called my only friend at the time who had kids.  I told her of my frightening feelings, and she replied, “Don’t freak out. What you’re feeling is completely normal, and in six weeks, you’ll just wake up and feel good again.”

A few weeks later, I was in a changing room at the Gap trying on clothes with my son in the stroller next to me.  The sales girl commented to me on how comfortable I was with the baby, and how I seemed to be so organised!  I remembered my friend’s words, and realised that he was 6.5 weeks old. As she’d wisely told me, I did feel better and more normal again after the initial newborn storm had settled.

Five years later, I was plunged back into that chaotic frenzy of a new baby entering our home.  Only this time, I knew that it was temporary.  Along with the multiple night feeds and diaper changes, I knew to cherish every newborn moment because those first six weeks, beautiful and fiery, fly by…and sometimes the return to normality is a little bittersweet.