Last month, I posted the songs that had been going through my head postpartum, and it was a surprisingly accurate snapshot of life at the time. What didn't occur to me was that the phenomenon would continue, but with different songs. I now present to you Postpartum in Songs Part II, an update.
"Edelweiss" from The Sound of Music
Trigger Phrase: "You look happy to meet me."
A couple of weeks ago, Elle started smiling SO big whenever we get her out of her bassinet. She beams the biggest gummy smile and her eyes practically become stars. To be honest, it made me feel guilty at first, because there was NO way I could possibly deserve what I was seeing in her face. Like, she had to be mistaken or I'd somehow manipulated her into thinking I was amazing, because—excuse me?—I am actually the one who interrupts her post-milk naps to change her diaper and makes her burp when she hates it?
"The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World
Trigger Phrase: "It just takes some time, / Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride / Everything, everything'll be just fine, / Everything, everything'll be all right, all right."
What a testament to how much better things have felt lately! Now, my inner dialogue reassures me that "it just takes some time" rather than excoriating me for always making the wrong decision.
"Mother Knows Best" from Tangled
Trigger Phrase: "Mother's right here, Mother will protect you."
It is unfortunate the this song is sung ironically and by the movie's villain, but it still plays in my head when I say, "Momma's right here" to Elle, which is pretty often.
"Come Get Her" by Rae Sremmurd
Trigger Phrase: "Somebody come get her, she's dancing like a stripper."
Look, I don't choose the songs that get triggered. Many times a day, Gabe or I will say, "I'm gonna get her," either from her nap, for her next feeding, because she's crying, and when we do...I hear this song. I actually hear a joke version from a TikTok that says "somebody come GEET 'errrr," if that's any better.
"When the Rain Comes" by Third Day
Trigger Phrase: "I can't stop the rain / From falling down on you again / I can't stop the rain / But I will hold you 'til it goes away."
No matter how hard I try, there are a lot of things I can't stop for Elle: gas, spit up, the hiccups. However, I tell her that what I can do is hold her until whatever it is passes.
"My World" by Sick Puppies
Trigger Phrase: "Welcome to my world."
We recently bought a black and white contrast book for Elle, and it's called Hello, My World. Every time I see the book, it triggers this song.
"Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" from Disney's (problematic) Song of the South
Trigger Phrase: "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah"
I've never seen Song of the South, but as I zipped up Elle's sleeper one day, I sang the line "ZIP-a-dee-doo-dah" to her and she loved it, so I sang that song about fifty times one morning and my brain is never gonna let it go.
"I Feel the Earth Move" by Carole King
Trigger Phase: "I feel the earth move under my feet."
Often, especially in the middle of the night, Elle falls asleep on my chest during her upright time. When it's time for me to move the nursing pillow and take her to change her diaper, I think about how it must feel to her, like the ground beneath her feet is shifting.
I'll be very interested to see if this continues.
~ Stephanie
Once again, recording some thoughts while Elle is napping. Any moment might be my last XD
Dysmorphia by Proxy
Sometimes when Elle is swaddled and in the crook of my arm, I genuinely feel like I see her as a toddler when I look down, and it's disturbing. It's like that part of Friends where Joey has a dream that he's holding a baby and sudden it's Ross's face staring up at him. Elle looks so different and so much older than she did at first.
The Irony
Gabe and I tried so hard to have a baby (like, I ate tinned oysters for months a few years ago) to now try so hard NOT to have a baby 😂 Like, I relish the times Gabe offers to give her a bottle so I can leave the house and pretend to be childless. We put her down at night and sneak upstairs and watch her on the monitor and BEG for her not to wake back up. I know this is totally normal, but it's still funny.
The Scrutinizing
And yet, we do watch her on the monitor. I have become more eagle-eyed than I thought possible as I zoom in and try to find a spot on the swaddle that moves so that I can be reassured that she's breathing.
The Cords
This is so random and unexpected, but the number of CORDS cluttering up our home has somehow quadrupled since having a baby. Chargers for our Kindles, our phones, her nightlight, her stroller fan, the baby monitor, Gabe's Nintendo Switch, my laptop as I work from the living room. I hate visual clutter and I hate tripping over things, so this has been...unfortunate.
Sticking to a Schedule
I used to think that parents who stuck rigidly to their child's routine might be coddling their child, who would need to know how to roll with life eventually. However, I have come to realize that ELL-OH-ELL, sticking to a schedule isn't even FOR the baby—it's for YOU, because if the baby's schedule is thrown off, it's not the baby who suffers, it is everyone within earshot, potentially for the whole rest of the day. It's like when I used to think that teachers who dismissed class early were doing it as a treat for the students, when, more often than not, the teacher wants class to be over at least as much.
Mantra
I didn't mean to create a mantra, but when Elle was a few weeks old, I would tell her how sweet she was and how beautiful she was, and it quickly occurred to me that I didn't want those to become the only (or even the default) adjectives we use for her. If our voices are going to become her first inner voice, I want her to have a more empowering impression of herself. I added some adjectives, and it became an actual habit of mine to chant to her that she is "so sweet and smart and strong and brave and beautiful."
The First Six-Hour Stretch
In comparing notes with other moms, I've learned that it is normal to fly awake in the middle of the night, realize your baby hasn't roused you in SIX HOURS?! and panic a little bit. Is this a good thing? Or is she DEAD? The good news is that Elle is fine, and will now sleep six hours at a time a couple of times a week. The bad news is that we have absolutely no clue what magic recipe is that yields these random restful blocks.
It turns out the people didn't lie: parenthood DOES get better, and a single one of Elle's smiles is payback enough.
Well, maybe two or three smiles.
~ Stephanie
I might be able to unpack any one of these and make separate posts, but I can't count on myself to find the time, so I'm just going to document some thoughts from the last few weeks in fragments :)
Losing Game
For a long stretch, motherhood just felt like a constant losing game. I could never make the right choice. If I let Elle keep sleeping, she woke up too hungry and I felt mean. If I woke her up to feed her, I felt mean for disturbing her sleep. If I changed her diaper before she ate, I was mean for delaying the milk she so desperately wanted. If I fed her first, I was mean for letting her eat in a soiled diaper. If she fell asleep while I kept her upright after nursing, I felt mean for waking her up to change her diaper. If I changed her diaper quicker, before she fell asleep, and she spit up on the changing table, I felt mean for rushing the process and "making" her spit up.
A Race
Everything also feels like a race. Can I finish my food before she wakes up? Will the chiropractor come in before she starts crying? Can I change her diaper before she spits up? Can we get home before it's time to nurse? How fast can I shower? How fast can I change her diaper? How fast can Gabe heat up the bottle?
Antithesis
Motherhood is forcing me to act contrary to myself in three particular ways: I must be slow, and gentle, and quiet. I have always been fairly fast and rough and loud. Every moment of every day, I must exercise myself in a way I never have before. It's exhausting, but the growth is unbelievable. I would not have thought I had it in me to control myself to this degree for this long.
Scary Sounds
Sounds that now send a pang of dismay through my body:
- Thud of a paci hitting the mattress: Elle will either keep sleeping or wake screaming
- Creak of our bedroom door opening: Gabe coming to wake me to nurse Elle
- Silence: Has Elle entered quiet sleep or is she dead?
It's Constant
I find myself forgetting that this is forever. There's no "until" with motherhood, unless it's "until I die," or—God actually forbid—she does. There are no days off; there is no "mute" button on her crying or "pause" button on her hungry tummy. Giving up isn't an option.
Every once in a while I'll notice a thought in the back of my mind that's something like "Okay, I'm done now, let's go back to regular life" and then I realize that that can't happen. This thought pattern makes me realize how few things I've forbid myself to quit lately. The fact that my brain automatically generates the thought, "This is difficult; I'm going to quit" feels like a lesson in character. Have I really become so quick to give up? So unaccustomed to exerting myself? Whether or not that's the case, I won't be quitting motherhood, and I know that will be good practice for other areas of my life too.
To Sum Up
It's been a lot. But it is getting better. Glancing over this post, I realize that it sounds negative, but that's not an accurate reflection of how life feels—anymore. I'm just catching up on the note in my phone that says "Blog," and most of the bullet points were added during weeks that felt more hard than good. However, Gabe and I have moved from staring at each other and talking about how we can never do this again to thinking that maybe we could. And that's progress.
Now that my phone's Blog note has been cleared out a bit, I think the next post will read less "suffering for the cause" and more "such a magical time," because it genuinely is :)
~Stephanie
