Great expectations

B is frequently frustrated by my inability to play "Let's Pretend." He enjoys throwing out hypothetical situations to find out what I'd do in them. Invariably, I respond to his questions with more questions, probing for details, and in the end, my answer is usually, "I don't know," or "That sounds unlikely to happen."

My brain just doesn't process hypotheticals.

It should come as no surprise, then, that I had no idea what to expect from my new role of "mother," so I didn't think I had many expectations before entering this new role. However, I apparently did have some expectations, perhaps unspoken even to myself, because I am constantly surprised by my new role.

Here are a few areas that have taken me by surprise in the last month or so.

Fun
The secret that no one tells you is that the first few weeks of parenthood aren't much fun. People hide this knowledge in statements such as, "It gets better," or "It gets easier." What they're really saying is, "There are limited opportunities for fun in the beginning."

Sure, there are elements of fun and wonderful, particularly when your baby is cute and provides you with adorable photographable moments of cuteness explosions. But a lot of the time, it's diaper blowouts at 3 in the morning and the need to change the bedding and the diaper and swaddle blanket of a screaming newborn.

That situation probably doesn't sound like fun--because it isn't! 

Now when people tell me, "Oh, the early days are so much fun," my answer is, "Actually, they're not that much fun." And it's amazing how the conversation changes afterward! Invariably, the woman (because men do not feel the need to pretend that newborns are a barrel of laughs all the time) lowers her voice and admits that she herself did not enjoy the early days that much, and then she offers the age when the fun actually begins (usually somewhere in the 2 to 4 month range).

I am doing my best to maintain an even keel until the fun increases. It must get better, or people wouldn't have multiple children.

Baby blues
They warned us in childbirthing class about the baby blues, and naturally, I assumed that I would be immune to them.

This situation illustrates the danger of inflated self-confidence.

The baby blues usually start a couple days after the birth of your baby and are the result of your hormones going haywire. You can go from laughter to tears within minutes and have very little control over your emotions.

I first experienced the baby blues when I nearly started crying while we were leaving the hospital. Make no mistake--I couldn't wait to get home. But actually walking down the hallway with Rooster in his carrier, knowing that we'd soon be flying solo with him, left me overwhelmed.

Many situations left me overwhelmed those first couple weeks. I cried...a lot. A couple times, I felt like I couldn't stop crying, a scary situation because the baby blues can turn into postpartum depression.

Now, four weeks later, my baby blues are mostly gone. I still get overwhelmed taking care of a newborn by myself while B is at work, but I feel like I am much more in control of my emotions. I think that my baby blues were very closely tied with my physical recovery, another unexpected result of this thing they call childbirth...

Lengthy recovery time
I did not expect to be in so much pain following the birth. I thought that lengthy recovery times were for c-sections only. Wrong!

In the days following Rooster's birth, I could barely get out of bed. I watched the clock religiously and requested my Motrin every 6 hours. Two weeks later, I was still taking Motrin and walking like a bit of a gunslinger.

A month later, I still have not fully recovered. During pregnancy, I thought that classifying pregnancy leave as a short-term disability was a little odd, but now I understand because I genuinely do feel like I am physically disabled much of the time.

It seems awfully unfair to have to deal with the physical recovery from birth at the same time that you have to learn how to take care of a newborn, but that's the way it is. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have B. Single mothers, you amaze me.

Breastfeeding difficulties
Breastfeeding is natural and easy, right? You and the baby instinctively know what to do, and your baby gains weight and thrives with very little effort from you while you still manage to get lots of sleep.

That's how it's sold, anyway. The reality was quite the opposite.

My baby didn't know what to do, he only lost weight, and no one got any sleep.

I've already written about this subject, so I won't belabor the point, but anyone who says that breastfeeding is easy is either extremely lucky or is lying.

Exhaustion
I knew I'd be tired. I just didn't know what tired really felt like until now. I leave a room to grab something and forget what I needed. I start sentences and stop speaking in the middle because I've forgotten what I was going to say. I forget how much milk I put in Rooster's bottle. I find my eyelids getting awfully heavy while I'm rocking and feeding Rooster.

Sleep is at a wicked premium in our house these days (for everyone except Rooster, that is). Getting 6 hours of sleep--not consecutively, mind you, total--in a day is now a luxury.

We are lucky that he wakes up only twice each night and that he is rarely fussy during the night. (He saves that behavior for me during the day.)

Apparently, it will get easier.