Yesterday afternoon, I took a nap with Carter. Somewhere between 4 and 6 pm, I slipped off cloud nine and awoke to find myself in the black hole of hormonal chaos and moodiness. The transformation was quick and dramatic. (Think Nikki and her altar-ego Jessica on the TV series Heroes.) My poor, unsuspecting husband arrived home to snappy remarks and sulky complaints. He gently took Carter into his arms and held him the rest of the night while I took my postpartum ugliness out on the birth announcement envelopes with my return address stamp.
Today seemed more promising with its fresh start. I awoke cheerful and enjoyed a leisurely morning drinking my coffee and playing with Carter. However, a line of events (insignificant to say the least) abruptly switched back on my mad-woman temperament. We’ll call this altar-ego “Veronica.”
Many people prepare you for pregnancy and for the actual delivery process, but it’s hard to imagine the changes that occur after your little bundle of joy arrives. Expectations abound, and many turn out to be false. For instance, I knew it would take a while for my pregnancy weight to come off. However, it never dawned on me that my clothes would not fit for weeks to come. I shed 2/3 of my weight extremely quickly, and perhaps I got cocky and thought those 7 cookies a day wouldn’t hurt me. 🙂
Until today, I have been content to roam the house in one of my three sweatsuits. My other uniform consists of my maternity jeans and a Target maternity shirt that could perhaps pass off as trendy with its empire waist. But with a bridesmaid luncheon, rehearsal dinner, and wedding two weeks from today, I thought I should try on some clothes to see what I could fit into.
Tonight, I just about lost it as the following unfolded in less than 3 minutes…
– I discovered my 4 lb. maltese Sadie (now hereby known as the Little White Termite) chewing the doorframe
– the peace lily plant overflowed onto our dining room oriental rug as I watered it
– the oven timer beeped signaling dinner was ready (1st time I have cooked in four weeks)
– sweet Carter cried at the top of his lungs from his acid reflux (the Zantac is clearly not working 100%)
– I slipped on a rawhide chew bone and nearly busted it.
I anticipated motherhood to be a challenge, but it’s different than I expected. Carter brings so much joy. It’s juggling the rest of life that makes the transition difficult. And prior to having a child, I would normally be laughing from the chain of events described above. However, when you incorporate sleep deprivation and an “empty” clothes closet, minor details can seem monomental. All I can say is that if you call or visit and I mention Veronica’s presence, hang up or run and check back with me later.