Journeys In Motherhood

Being pregnant has me reminiscent of Eli's younger life. I try to tell myself I'll be able to deal with a newborn again because I've successfully raised one newborn into a toddler. Despite the reassurances to myself, I am still a bit nervous to have such a tiny, fragile, neck muscleless baby in our house again.

I've been remembering a few of my embarrassing motherhood moments, hoping I've learned not to make those same mistakes twice. Like for instance:

The time I was at Eli's 2-day old check-up. Eli had lived his whole born life naked inside a billibed up to this point. So when the nurse came in and told me to undress Eli, I hopelessly looked at my Mom and told her I didn't know how to take Eli's shirt off. I could feel her worry for Eli's upbringing as she showed me the proper way to squeeze a baby's ginormous head out of a tiny neck hole.

Or maybe the time it was Eli's first night home and I spent the entire night staring at him while googling every imaginable problem I convinced myself he was suffering from.

And how it took me a week to realize I didn't have to be completely shirtless to nurse a baby.

What would really bother me is when I'd do something that seemed normal to me and then someone would say, "You must be a first-time mom." I'd be annoyed the world could so clearly see I was one of the stereotypical, overprotective, confused, helpless, paranoid postpartum.

One way or another Eli and I managed to figure each other out. Days of being a first-time mom became buried in experience and understanding of the inner workings of a child. I soon became so confident in my child rearing that I found myself giving advice to fresher batches of new moms.

Just at the height of my confidence, my baby turned 18 months old and I was once again reminded that I'm still a first-time mom as I watched in confusion while Eli cried uncontrollably at the sight of toys, laughing children, marshmallows and friendly teachers.

Yes. Eli hates nursery.

I could see through the smiles of my fellow ward members as they watched me bang my head on the wall outside the nursery door waiting for Eli's screaming to stop. They were labeling me a first-time mom and feeling sorry for my cluelessness. I'm sure of it. Then I banged my head even harder at my mothering relapse.

Heaven help me if we're still in relapse when #2 makes his debut.