I am totally a member of the good vibe tribe. I believe with all of my soul that if you send good vibes out into the universe that even hard things don’t seem so bad. My first piece of advice for pregnant mothers is to never say things like “I can’t do this anymore,” or “this is never going to end!” Or “I’ve never been more uncomfortable.” While I feel like screaming these phrases and more from the rooftops whenever there is a tiny human kicking all of my organs from the inside, if I don’t say it out loud it seems to pass by so much faster. You might actually find me saying things instead like “I’m doing really well” which is usually not the case. Life tends to hand out what seem to be unfair hands of cards sometimes and I’m generally the person saying “everything is going to work out! don’t even worry!” I’m never sure how it’s going to work out or sometimes I’m not even sure IF it will work out but I still say it. That being said I have this habit and I’ve always considered it a good habit, but lately I’ve found out just why it might be a bad one sometimes.
I just had my third baby three weeks ago, my tiny girlfriend after being a boy mom for the last 6 years. My pregnancy was a rough one, which every woman that has ever had the slightly miserable privledge of being pregnant can say. After having two preterm babies my doctor went to great lengths to keep this princess in. It meant lots of shots of all kinds for the girl that loathes needles. It meant 11+ weeks of bedrest. I watched my husband and everyone else around me clean my house, make my meals, raise my kids all while I just sat there, it was hard. Every time someone dropped food off at my house or picked my kids up for the day they would generally say something to the extent of “You’ve got to be going crazy!” Or “This looks so miserable.” My response was always the same, “it’s hard but I’m fine.” A small awknowledgement that it wasn’t ideal but that I wasn’t weak and was fine. For some reason admitting that it sucked seemed like a sign of weakness or inability to do hard things and I’m not weak.
Fast forward from the pregnancy and now we’re playing the seemingly impossible “let’s find a routine that works for us” game. We’re doing the no sleep thing, surprisingly because my 2 year old is the problem, not my newborn but it’s cool I hate sleep anyways, who doesn’t? My husband has a pretty demanding job so it’s generally just the 4 of us here and let’s be honest, it’s a mad house. We stay in our pajamas until…honestly, maybe bedtime. We are living on a strict diet of oatmeal, Nutella toast, croutons, spaghettios and frozen burritos. I don’t quite frankly remember the last time I showered and oh, I forgot to mention my two year old hates me for having another baby.
Let’s elaborate on that last one shall we? Apparently I ruined my youngest child’s life when we had our very unplanned baby. If you ask him if he likes her, he simply answers “nope!” And carries on about his business. Thankfully he isn’t mean to his baby sister but I am a completely different story. By the end of a day of constant crying, being hit, having my hair pulled, being kicked, fighting him to eat just to end up covered in his spit out food and his sudden onset deafness when he’s asked to do ANYTHING, I could crawl into bed and cry. Now I can talk to my husband about anything and everything, and I do, which I’m sure he loves because after being home with kids all day he hears everything, every last detail. BUT being the positive ray of sunshine that I force myself to be at all times whenever he asks how my day was my answer is always a brief synopsis of the day followed quickly by “but it’s fine.”
Tonight my fireball of a middle child was throwing a fit. The kind of fit that makes you creepily jealous of Helen Keller because she’s the only person to ever walk the face of this earth that could sit in the same room as your child and not want to die. So he’s in his room screaming because DAD is tucking him into bed instead of the mother that he’s beaten all day long. As I’m sitting on the couch with the baby, my husband calmly says goodnight to our son, leaves the room and closes the door behind him. Our child went bonkers. I started to feel my blood boil. My husband sat down and put his arm around me, I told him to go back and get him. He explained that our son needed to learn that he couldn’t act like that and that he would check on him in 5 minutes. Was he absolutely right? Yuuuup. Do you think I said that? Sure didn’t. 5 minutes was eternity. I stood up, and as I walked to the door I reminded him that while he wasn’t home to listen to the crying all day, I was and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I walked outside and slammed the door behind me.
Turns out that I’m not fine sometimes. Weird, I know. What’s weirder is that I’ve always know that sometimes I’m not but saying it out loud seemed unacceptable. Admitting that what I had on my plate was overwhelming made me feel like I didn’t have it together like I should. In reality I’m not sure that anyone ever really has it together, maybe sometimes things just fall into place better. Maybe bottling up the reality of how you feel doesn’t actually make you stronger but instead slowly makes you weaker on the inside. I’m not suggesting that we all become that person that we all know that we don’t want to be around. The modern day Eeyore, living in a permanent state of doom and gloom. I’m not saying that we should never hold back how we feel or that we are incapable of handling things within ourselves because I still believe in good vibes. The honest truth is that you’re strong. You’ve totally got this, whatever your “this” is. Maybe you’re like me and it’s the kids and the fighting and the screaming and the time that you never have for yourself. Maybe it’s your job, or your relationship. It could be your financial status or health struggles but you can do it. All I AM suggesting is that it’s 100% kosher to verbally say, I’m not fine. When your neighbor says “woah, you look exhausted” it’s totally acceptable to say, “yeah I am, and it sucks.” When your spouse says “sounds like you had a long day,” a proper response sometimes is, “it’s been so long and I’m just kinda done.” You aren’t weak or incapable. You are not less of you because you said things aren’t rainbows and unicorns out loud to another human being. You’re honest which sometimes takes more strength then lying just to seem strong.
So there you have it, sometimes I’m not fine. Which is totally and completely….fine.