“Enjoy Every Precious Moment” vs I am Enough

The following is from my writing project for my new son. I wrote the same letters for my daughter, chronicling our first year together but didn’t share any of them. They are for us. These words felt like they wanted to be shared.

April 8, 2014

Dear sweet Levi,

You are 25 days old today. It’s 11pm and I am listening happily to you gulp and coo softly as you nurse. I’m so very tired but I haven’t been to sleep yet even though the hour is late for this mom of two very young kids and “bedtime” (there is no such thing in the land of newborn) is 8:30pm (that’s the time we go to our room for the night).

As I try hard to get you to sleep in your crib instead of in bed with me, I’ve been lying awake thinking while hoping hard you stay in the crib.

I’ve been thinking about how the new mother gets inundated with the phrase “enjoy every precious moment!” by many well-meaning supporters during this newborn period. It’s our culture’s go-to congrats platitude. When someone has a birthday, you say “happy birthday.” When someone has a baby, you say this.

I feel like this phrase is unfair and it was one of the things that unraveled me during that crazy hormone ride during your first week of life. Unraveling being an easy accomplishment in the first weeks postpartum.

You see, my sweet boy, it’s perfectly impossible to “enjoy every precious single moment” because they are not all precious and they are not all enjoyable. I’m pretty sure that any sane person with a glimpse into our life would agree.

I love you, my son. I love you hugely. I love you so deeply and in a way that you probably won’t understand until you hold your firstborn, should you choose to have kids.  This has nothing to do with love. A number of the moments in our day aren’t precious and for enjoyment. They are moments to survive.

They are the moments when both you and your sister are crying and I have to choose which one to comfort first while I have to let the other cry.

I believe the experts who say that a parent should respond quickly and in a nurturing manner to their newborn every time the baby cries; that this build trust, let’s the baby know that their needs will be met and that they are safe. This leads to the baby crying less. And I believe that this impacts long term attachment and development. But I can’t always respond to you as quickly as I want to, my sweet boy, because I have another child and I’m only one mother.  I survive these moments. But I don’t enjoy them.

There are moments when your sister cries for me to put you down or put you in your swing.  She spirals out of emotional control when I can’t because you are nursing and I have no hands to comfort her and her big emotions.  Her tears don’t feel precious, they feel sad and frustrated and I swallow those emotions.

There are days when I do nothing alone, including shower, sleeping and going to the bathroom. I survive these moments; they are motherhood.

There have been a few moments where you start crying your poor little head off in the stroller.  I feel desperate to comfort you but we are still 6 blocks away from home. The fleece and wool cover to your infant car seat, snapped into the stroller, is your outdoor gear and it’s too cold to take you out.  With no way to comfort you, we have to walk the six blocks home- you screaming, me sweating, big sister looking sullen.

There are moments when I very much want to make you both happy. You want to be held- my arms are the happiest, warmest and safest place you know. Big sister wants me to play with her- at not quite 2 years old, I’m the best playmate she knows. Sometimes these two don’t mix and I can’t do both. I feel guilt for letting one of you down in that moment. It doesn’t feel “precious.”

These are some of the hard moments. But there are many, many more magical moments. Moments so happy and full of joy that it is overwhelming:

That hour in the evening, after big sister goes to bed, when you sleep peacefully cuddled against my chest and I relish these sweetest newborn cuddles.  I can usually hear big sister singing herself to sleep upstairs.

Introducing you to your big sister and her holding you for the first time. Every time she asks to hold you. The times when I catch her looking at you with a mix of curiosity and wonder.

The joy on your little face when you latch on to nurse. The way you reach both of your hands up into my neck and face when I hold you upright against my chest after nursing.

The first time big sister looked stressed and upset with your crying instead of saying “no Levi, no, no!”

The first morning that I overheard big sister ask her daddy “where’s Levi” before she asked “where’s mommy?”

The exciting precursor to your smile, when sensations in your tummy cause your lips to curl upwards. The anticipation of how amazing your first smile will be.

When the first thing that I see waking up from a nap is your beautiful face pressed against my chest as you enjoy your own nap.  How even if I move 4 inches away from you in bed together, you manage to inch your way back to me to rest your head on my chest.

In the less magical moments, those that are to be survived and not enjoyed, I tell myself that I am enough. It’s ok that I’m surviving and not enjoying because I’m your mother and I’m caring for you and your sister the best that I can and that’s enough.

Our friend Tonya wrote us the nicest message in the early days of your life, opposite to “enjoy every moment.” She said, “These early days, while magical, are so very demanding on us mamas. Make sure you ask for help.” So very poignant and true.

This is my second time around the parenthood block. I know that I am enough and I believe it most days. I worry about the new parent who is flooded with “enjoy every moment.” I worry that she’ll feel like she is doing it wrong when she inevitably finds that she can’t enjoy them all.

For you, reader, if you’ve told a new mom to ‘enjoy every moment,” that’s ok. I’m sure it came from a place of support. But next time, how about using Tonya’s words instead.

For you, new parent: you are enough.

This blog is my running blog and I certainly never intend to turn it into a parenting blog. There’s some parallel to running. You can be a runner, love running and love being a runner. But even so, you can no more enjoy every run than this new parent can enjoy every moment.