The realest of the real

Last night, as I tried to convince myself to get sleepy, I read a blog from a girl I went to high school with. Quickly I became entranced by her stories. Apparently we had more in common than I thought. We were never close in school, but as we've grown up, it seems as though our lives have taken similar paths. Anyways, her writing swept me away. She was so real. Her stories so bare and organic. It inspired me. I find myself always writing about the great things in life, the wonderful, joyous moments. And while that is all fine and dandy, it may be possible that you don't constantly want to read about how magical my life is. And trust me, it isn't always so. In the past, I thought "who would want to read about things that are sad and depressing?" But truth be told, and I can attest to this, it takes those true, deep, and sometimes low points in one's life to be able to connect with an audience. I believe people are rivited by personal challenges. And success, of course. But the tough times are what bind people together, bring you closer in. Because let's face it, we are not perfect. So here I am. I am getting real.

In the past couple of months, we have undergone quite a few changes. And besides the most obvious one, our new addition to the family, we also managed to loose one as well. My beloved cat, Skeeter, has a few issues. Ok, the cat is seriously bonkers. But I love him. Probably, wait, no definitely, more than I should. Before making his home permanately outdoors, he peed all over our bed, thus forcing us to buy a new mattress (which we really couldn't afford, so we had to buy an inexpensive, and just so happens to be an extremely firm one.. causing much back pain for both of us and a lot of trouble falling asleep because it feels like laying on wood floors). For the longest time, it has been hard for me to admit this harsh reality about my cat to others. I was, and continue to be, ashamed that I let matters go as far as they did. It put so much strain on the relationship between me and Ky. I still don't know why I let it get between us like it did. My stubbornness has GOT TO GO! Let me continue. He then peed on our couch, multiple times. We are still trying to get the stench out. Cat urine is honestly the worst smell. It's the kind that permeates all things around it, and the kind that you can't get out of your nose no matter how hard you try. He also managed to pee in the nursery, before it was a nursery of course. So every once in a while, the smell comes wafting back. Ugh. It is an absolute nightmare, one that we are fighting to end once and for all. He has caused so much irrepairable damage. I am exceptionally cranky today because of my poor nights sleep. Awful. Miserable. And I can't even blame the baby. What is this!? We were blessed with a good sleeper and I can hardly reap the benefits. Boo. And yet, I continue to love him. One will never know or begin to understand why, not even me.

On to other matters..

From the beginning, breastfeeding has been a challenge for us. Winnie and me, that is. At first, it was just painful. Excrutiating hardly describes it. Sometimes, I could do nothing but cry as I tried to feed my baby. Eventually the pain subsided and we moved on to other issues. She began to get fussy almost every time she nursed. It was so hard to get her to latch on and be content. It has been such an internal struggle for me, a new mom. Not only was I feeling downhearted because it wasn't easy, but what is a brand new mommy like me to do when she can't provide for her baby? I tried not to get too down on myself about it because it only made things worse. I know it's not always a piece of cake for people, and certainly not me. But every once in a while, the feelings of not being enough, not being sufficient for my child creep back in. I know I am a good mother, and in some form or another, I will find a way to nurish my baby. But the road has been and continues to be a long and challenging one. She still gets fussy from time to time, and it's hard to tell if she is getting enough. My newest worry is her constant spitting up. More times than not, she will spit up quite a bit after she eats. It is a lot. I am not overexaggerating. Is she having a bad reaction? It is something I ate? Is she allergic? I just don't know. It is exhausting. And yet, I won't give up. I have gotten used to the fact that most of the time I am covered in spit up. We even joke sometimes that I have become immune to the smell. And it doesn't smell nice. Oh the wonders of mommyhood...

Since sitting down to write this post, I have had to get up three times to calm my crying baby. It's bedtime, and definitely not her favorite time of the day. I've had to learn to let her just cry it out sometimes. As hard as it is, she sleeps so much longer and deeper because of it. It just makes me so sad listening to her unhappy though!

Four.

Being faced with these struggles has tested me in more ways than I can count. At the end of the day, I am grateful. For gaining more patience. For becoming a nurturer. For earning strength and for letting go of what I cannot change. I am grateful for battles big and little, because they shape me and force me to grow. And that is a good feeling.

Goodnight.