“The other day I saw a photo of a friend and her brand new baby.
I know that look, I thought: a mama who is in it.
Tired eyes and old, cold coffee.
Sitting there with a baby sleeping soundly in her arms. Sound machines, swaddles, all in a pile. Do they work?
Broken body, racing mind. Tending to others; needing so much herself.
Healing so slowly. Learning so much.
Dreading the nighttime with dwindling energy. How many times will I be woken? How will I do it?
A full night ahead when the world goes to sleep. Resentment and worry. Or is it just tired?
Looking down at the baby, welled up with tears. All of the new.
How much does a baby nurse? When does it get easier? Am I the only one? The questions and their internet answers.
Running on empty, feeling so full.
All cloaked in tiredness. So, so much tiredness.
I saw her morning walks and I saw her skipped naps.
I felt how everything seemed off and how everything felt right and how, somehow, she was doing it every day and every night.
No sleep, all adrenaline, high on love, low on hormones.
For a moment, I felt it again: the days of a mama who is in it.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Cassie Shortsleeve of Dear Sunday. You can follow her journey on Instagram and join her mom groups on her website. Submit your own story here and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
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