3 AM with My Newborn
When I was pregnant, family and friends loved to share their horror stories about having a newborn baby. I heard about complications with breastfeeding, late night tears, (both from baby and mom) and extreme exhaustion. Sleep while you can. Enjoy the peace and quiet now. You’ll never sleep again, they said.
These stories terrified me. I worried that I would not make enough milk for my baby, and that if I could, it would be too challenging to nurse and pump so frequently. I worried that I would not have what it takes to stay up all night with a crying newborn. And I began to wonder...is motherhood really just a stream of inconveniences and sleep deprivation? Is this my fate? The realities of motherhood are so much different and so much better than I ever imagined.
My daughter is two months old, and I have found that mothers are more than equipped to overcome all of my previous concerns. My body quickly adapted to less sleep, and I think of every late-night feeding as an opportunity to snuggle my beautiful baby. I believe that breastfeeding is one of God’s greatest ideas because it provides mothers with uninterrupted time with their baby in a hectic and demanding world. My body was designed for this. I have never been happier or healthier because motherhood brings me more joy than I ever thought possible.
When friends and family ask how Darcy and I are doing, I don’t tell them how many hours I slept last night, or whine that she is “cluster” feeding. I tell them that everything is wonderful, because everything is wonderful. I tell them how much I love being Darcy’s mom. I tell them about our daily successes, how close she is to laughing, and that she is a genius because she puts her binky back in her mouth. I refuse to spend motherhood trying to survive each day in a fog of dirty diapers, hiding behind the distraction of my phone, while I complain to my friends and say things like, “just wait until you have kids.”
My husband and I have approached parenthood with a capable and positive attitude. At the hospital, we played our “Darcy” music playlist in the middle of the night, laughed at each new facial expression she made, and reminisced about our many trips to the hospital. We have continued the exciting adventure in our cozy home. We love our evenings spent cooking something simple, like grilled cheese sandwiches, while we take turns dancing around the kitchen with Darcy to the sound of George Strait. On weekend mornings we gather on the couch with Darcy and the dogs while we sip coffee and plan our day. We cheer when she burps, laugh at her frequent outfit changes, and create countless nicknames for her. We are acutely aware of how quickly time is moving, so we want to make each day reflect the joy that she brings. Darcy was almost born at 26 weeks old, when she weighed less than two pounds. I am reminded every day of the fear I felt when I thought that we would lose her, and the overwhelming gratitude I feel now that she is here and healthy.
So, at 3 AM when Darcy cries out in hunger, I scoop up our little bundle with the knowledge that soon she will not need her Mama at odd hours of the night. I smile down at my drowsy, hungry girl, because I do not want the first thing she sees to be a tired scowl. She and I have established a routine that I truly look forward to: I change her diaper, kiss her squishy cheeks, swaddle her snuggly, and I get a glass of apple juice out of the fridge. (I have no evidence to support this, but my mom swears apple juice increased her milk supply.) We then settle on the couch under a knitted blanket, and I lovingly nurse my baby girl. We talk about our day, I tell her stories, count her fingers and toes, and remind her over and over of how much she is loved. If I am too tired for conversation, I focus on tickling her cheeks and feet to keep her awake, or I employ her dad to keep us both awake with one of his made-up songs.
I am not an expert on parenting, but there is one thing that I have figured out. I cherish every sleepy moment that I spend, covered in spit up, holding Darcy in my arms. I do not spend my time looking forward to her being older and sleeping through the night; I soak up these late nights because I know that I will never get these precious moments back. So, if you are an expecting parent, know that your attitude towards your baby and your adventure together is more important than all of the worries that you may have. Don’t count the hours of sleep you get each night, count how many times your baby looks up at you in smiling recognition because you make them feel safe, loved, and happy, even at 3 AM.
