Ten years...

I find myself in a familiar yet foreign place today, postpartum. 10 years ago a beautiful, perfect, miracle of a little girl came into our life. I was 27 and well old enough to be a parent by all standards but was grossly unprepared and uneducated. I felt ready, I truly believed I had it all planned out but from the start I had to learn i am not in control. After nearly a two month stay in the NICU, we were able to finally bring our little bundle of joy home. Plenty of trials and tribulations later (and more to come I'm sure...such is life) here I am with a brand new baby boy. He was different, we planned for him and tried for him. We gave up that we would have him and then we were surprised that God heard our prayers and answered them. I knew what I didn't want and I was certain of what I did this pregnancy. I followed all the rules and I did all of the things you should do. I read all of the books, I was prepared. I knew I wanted a birth story that was happy and predictable and most importantly, one that didn't end up with emergency surgery and the same kind of trauma I endured the first go. As fate would have it, even as knowledgeable and prepared as I was this time...it once again was not up to me. Admitted to the hospital that morning, I was faced with the fact that I was once again going to deliver by cesarean. I took a lot of tears to come to terms with it, but I knew it was how it was supposed to be. It went amazingly and I was absolutely shocked and grateful for a different experience! Elation and pride set in immediately. How could we be so lucky to be blessed once again? Then wouldn't you know, an old friend was lurking around the corner...good old self doubt. Why couldn't my body deliver babies on its own? Why isn't my body producing nourishment like it should? Why does my body still look 9 months pregnant? Why can't I be one of those mothers you see that have it all together from the get go? Does our daughter understand that while her brother needs constant attention, she is no less important or loved? Will he grow up and know how much he is loved? Am I doing it right?! The list could go on and on.

All things I am sure are normal, but are never easy just the same. I'm sure these feelings won't just go away, but I am committed to making sure I do my very best this time just like I did before. You'd think in ten years I would exude confidence in motherhood and would have been more ready for all of these feelings, but here I am again in this familiar yet foreign place. Postpartum.