Shakespeare must have had Paisley in mind when he penned:
“Though she be but little, she is fierce.”
Everything she does is loud. She farts like an adolescent boy. She belches with force. She blows out her diapers. She demands her next feeding. And unfortunately she cries bloody murder. She can go from asleep to roaring in less than sixty seconds.
Finn was not this way. He barely cried despite eight surgeries before his first birthday. I’m beginning to agree with Joey that “girls are just drama.”
Anyone who says the newborn stage is easy is lying. Ly-ing. Don’t believe their posts or Instagram pictures. It’s a sham.
New (or veteran) Momma, please don’t think for one minute that you’re alone in this. It’s just hard. Parenting a newborn (and a disabled toddler) is pushing me to the brink of desperation. I’ve raised my voice, cussed a few times, huffed and puffed, gone outside for some fresh air on a number of occasions, and prayed hundreds of silent (or sometimes loud) prayers asking the Lord for His help.
Paisley was so laid back her first two weeks.
Either this past week was a phase or she was fooling us all along. Baby girl struggles with acid reflux, is full of gas, and sometimes decides she’ll stay up all night long. Yesterday was the definition of “colicky.” I remember hearing about this tragic condition for newborns, pitying the parents of such a monster. Well, yesterday I was that mom. There is no “crying it out” for Paisley. She escalates until she is choking. Then Finn begins crying, sad for his sister and irritated with the noise. Then I begin crying…
I have no control.
Because she is my second child, I know this chapter of Paisley’s baby book is short. The newborn phase is fleeting. She WILL sleep eventually. We WILL sleep again one day. She will not cry all day every day. She will smile. There will be–and have been–good days/nights and bad days/nights. Last night she slept five hours at a time! A sweet gift from God after yesterday’s madness.
My prayer for today:
Jesus, this is what you’ve called me to for now. Thank you for our gifts, Paisley and Finn. Help me not to rush this newborn phase or wish it away. Help me to be patient, gentle and slow to anger. Give me energy despite my exhaustion. Love my family through me–and in spite of me. Give us rest.