A successful marriage isn’t something that just happens. You don’t meet someone and fall in love then everything is roses, sunsets and happily ever after. Like most things that are worth a damn, it takes hard work from both sides. I didn’t marry someone who is exactly like me and I’m sure you didn’t either. Your differences are what make you love the other person but it can also drive you to want to let the air out of their tires in the middle of the night. Everyone fights, everyone disagrees and the people who are successful learn and grow as people and as couples. That’s all fine and dandy, you are growing and learning and adjusting but then BAM another person has entered the ring.
I started traveling for work in 2012, which was a new experience and something I really enjoyed. I didn’t like being away from my husband (then boyfriend) but I got used to flying, presenting and feeling like I was doing something productive. When I switched jobs, I didn’t travel outside of a big conference once a year and missed it but didn’t think too much about it. Now I’m back in a position where I can travel and I’m facing the dreaded baby FOMO.
Baby P is allergic to milk protein, which means for the first month of her life all she did was scream because we had no idea. This lead to nights running into days and hours becoming a series of feed, rock, hold, soothe, snuggle, feed, scream, scream, scream and finally go to sleep while lying in our arms. You would think that now that she is actually sleeping we revel in the fact that we only have to wake up a couple of times a week at four a.m. to get her up… but no. We are thankful that she is a good sleeper and that we started sleep training so early on but we still argue about who is going to get up with her.
This morning I had to motivate myself to get out of bed. My daughter and husband are both sick and I’ve been sick for a little while now but I am well enough to go to work (and not contagious). My alarm went off several times and each time I turned it off then set another for ten minutes, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes out. This routine started at 5:30 and didn’t end until 7:40. At 7:40, I started telling myself in my head “get up! Get out of this bed!” but it was so hard. It was cold, my husband was snoring all night because he is sick, the baby snoring and making loud sick noises and my being sick kept me up off and on all night. This morning my body was almost at its breaking point of saying “pick another day, this one is not it.”
Baby P has started to chew on everything and the pediatrician said she has little nubs in her gums so she could be teething already. It is the most adorable and gross thing you’ll ever see a little baby do besides a blow-out (which is mainly gross but sometimes cute). Everything is covered in spit and she is so happy holding a little butterfly toy in her hands listening to it crunch when she bites down. These moments make it hard to remember the first month of my husband and I sleeping in shifts to stay up with her so she wouldn’t scream all night. It almost makes the sleepless nights and agonizing days of bouncing, screams, frustration and piles of diapers seem like a distant memory.