The alarm sounded at 4:45 this morning followed by a “do you want to sleep in until 6?” And a resounding “YES!” as a quick follow-up. We’ve had long days here recently, bringing a little too much fruition to that common phrase you all have been reminding me of.. Somehow, these long days have added up to three and a half months. And what I told myself would be the new norm: blogging at the very least once a month, making another sweet video montage of our girls to include the many cell phone pics showcasing every.single. different smile, vowing to take my camera with us to places other than photo shoots… another giant fail! Something that I didn’t vow so much on was giving myself grace… and friends, for that reason, I’ve entitled this: “on self loving…”
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m in the midst of self-pity and disappointment—I’m just in this quest of a new self-discovery that goes something like “Nicole—the MOM?” Don’t get me wrong as if I’m not loving every moment of this.. the moments where it’s become completely acceptable to place my face against another human’s butt, or the little white lies I communicated to my husband as I laid motionless in bed so convincingly pretending to be asleep just waiting to see if he heard the girls so that HE’D be the one to get them so that at some point that “white lie” would really be a definitive truth because this new me is working a 24-7 job with no rest for the weary and mama needs her sleep. Holy run-on sentence!!
Last week, Elsie went through a “I-don’t-want-to-sleep-through-the-night-anymore-I-just-want-you-to-come-play-with-me-and-make-me-laugh” 2 a.m. phase. I swore I could hear my super sweet husband say “SHUT UP!!!” WE ALL KNOW he would NEVER do, but that sleep deprivation does some horrible things to the mind… still the experience forced us to have a heart to heart acknowledging once again that “the days are long and the years are short,” conveniently followed behind by a much needed and reiterated message at church that Sunday about the blessings we’re called to give to our children.
…Somewhere in the midst of all THIS, I became the more patient one. The one that CALMLY whispered to my husband… and by whispered I definitely don’t mean “whisper-yell”.. but an actual, kind, whisper… “Let’s be proud of her. She’s talking! She’s making coos into laughter! And don’t you want to be the parent that celebrates her victories long before scoring her first soccer goal and dominating the writing section of her SAT? Don’t you want to tell her we’re proud of her, before she knows what ‘I’m proud of you’ even means?
Behold friends: I’m self-loving the fact that I can now use my words.
Mom and I were at the mall on Tuesday with the girls screaming in the stroller. I rolled up a blanket and propped a bottle for Hannah to which she willingly took. I tried to do the same for Elsie—big surprise…in that tiny little body of hers is a much, MUCH larger personality that told me, “No, Mommy! I want you to hold me instead.” With one hand, I paid the guy at H&M. With my other hand, I held a bottle and my wiggly girl against my hip. My knee caught the bottle slipping off of Hannah, and somehow my other foot kept me balanced. THIS is why God made women to be mothers. And I suppose, THIS is why God chose me to be a twin mom.
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Last month, my sister-friend (and mother of three) came to meet the girls. My mom in her very “Mary-esque” way talked around me, yet in front of me… “unintentionally” mocking my unending devotion to Baby Wise not yet understanding that the whole idea of a predictable schedule that ensured sleeping through the night by 8-weeks and “happy” babies was blessing my sleep-deprived, half-way functioning, searching-for-sanity, person. Like any other irrational person who had not yet learned to “use their words” I reacted in my only-child-like self with tears defensively yelling saying, “Mom- can you just tell me one thing, ONE THING that I AM doing right as a new mom? I question myself every day and the least you could do is affirm me instead of sitting there talking around me…”
I felt badly later for reacting that way.. especially in front of Jess… Lord knows she saw much worse in my teenage days, but I was seriously hurt. I try and make it a point to apologize to my mom (and I especially want my girls to grow up knowing that apologies are always a non-negotiable in seeking forgiveness—and especially in knowing how to show respect to your mother…) …only this time, it took me awhile. I eventually did apologize, but I think God was working through not only my own self-discovery, but mom’s as well. Behold, she’s now mothering me while grand-mothering too. News flash- I’m not just any new mom, but her daughter… and I need her blessing, not a recounted story of “well when I was a new mom…”
After the survival of “World War Three” aka “I need to eat now or I will kill you with my WWE grip” at H&M, we sat down to finish feeding the girls. I know not every new mom is lucky enough to have theirs with her for every second of this new self-discovery, and so in this moment, I really hoped and prayed that she would give me some sort of lesson turned blessing… “Mom, I know I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I think I’m more drawn to Hannah and that Elsie’s neediness is pushing me away…” Seriously, could I have been anymore real in that moment?! Who knows me better than my mom (which by the way, I totally get now..)
“You don’t have favorites! You saying this… you’re fearful. You know that Elsie demands more attention and as her mom you have to give it to her. But Hannah, you love the fact that she just snuggles up to you and does everything she’s supposed to be doing. You’re fearful that she’s not getting the same attention and so you try and make up for it in ways that appear as though she is your favorite…” Hold up! Who is the one with that masters degree in counseling? “You love them equally and I know you do because I see how you are with both of them. You don’t meet Elsie’s needs more than you do Hannah! You meet them equally—and I don’t know how you do it, because there are two of them… at the same time. Some women have problems doing it all with just one…”
Behold friends: I’m self-loving through this affirmation from my mom. I’m telling myself that I’m doing a good job… if I’ve amazed my mom at the job I’m doing, I’ve made it. I’m doing okay and I’ve actually made it…
Our time was cut short by some mall spectators: “Are they twins? My wife said they weren’t but I knew they had to be… because they’re the same size and all… A girl and a boy?” THEY WERE WEARING PINK!!!!!
Behold friends: I made it another day without laughing in a strangers face when answering the obvious questions. Friends: let this be your lesson, do not approach a twin mom and say, “are they twins?!” I can’t tell you why, but just don’t. While we’re at it, here’s a second forbidden comment, “My sons are fifteen months apart- it was like having twins…” No. No it wasn’t. No, actually, it’s not. NOT AT ALL. I can’t make promises but I don’t think I’d be able to stop the human in me from setting truth straight… I’ll go on and on about that in another post (someday). Mom says I’m doing okay though- apparently I’m more patient than I’ve ever been and maybe the something that I’ve always hated about myself… the impatient me, is loving this new “patient” me.
We sat in her living room later that evening, I think “hot-mess” is an understatement…at least that’s how I felt. I got up, very tiredly, (surprise! … to go rock Elsie) and she said, “You know… I’m pleasantly surprised. You’re doing more with these girls than I ever thought you could. Your rigid-scheduling is paying off! I was worried about you…with your anxiety, but you’re hitting motherhood out of the park.” If you don’t hear something like that from your own mother, come hear it from mine. Us new moms and maybe even seasoned moms, we need that!!
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I heeded her words with each sway back and forth as my first-born daughter nestled her head where collarbone meets neck listening to her pitiful, needy, cries. I looked over where I saw my second-born staring at me with those big lonely eyes…
Hannah- I’m fearful that you will think I’ve loved Elsie more in this season.
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Elsie- I’m fearful that I let you cry-it-out for too long so that I can hold your sister every bit as long as I hold you if not more.
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I’m fearful that I’m giving you girls complexes about who is the favorite. Complexes about being too needy or too compliant; about what is “right.”
Behold friends: I’m self-loving the fact that I’m a mom with fears. What kind of mother would I be without them. I’m holding these fears anxious-lessly with dreams of the mother I’m becoming. Where IS that anxiety that followed me like an ugly nagging shadow for so many years? Not that I’m inviting her back or anything…
This time last year, we received the heart-breaking news that our first embryo transfer had failed. I didn’t have an anxiety attack as we all expected, I guess that was God saving me… again. This year, I’m counting down the days until next year when we will start the embryo transfer process again…anxious-lessly. Currently, I’m self-discovering and self-loving the fact that this life is better than I deserve…
I have a friend who struggles badly with anxiety- specifically fears of infertility or the complete opposite of infertility. Girl- I said it to you privately, but I want to say it here too for everyone else that needs to hear it; there is not one part of me that would trade any of it—or even any of THIS because of the way God has beckoned me on my knees to know Him more, to love Him more, and to love ME a little more too.
Self-love is a beautiful thing that I never knew before these long days. It’s become my friend, and my real source of sanity (though Baby Wise is still a close second). It’s not about the spa day (though thanks, Trey.. I do want to redeem that ASAP). It’s not the quiet hours coveted within those sleepy eyes and gentle snores. It’s the small victories, the teeny blessings that say, “Mama- you’re doing an okay job.”
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Behold friends: I’m self-loving the fact that I’m doing okay.
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