I Spin
As I was looking for an American Airlines receipt this afternoon, I ran across this old email to my friends from when the Little Man was born. Seeing this now, I know that what I wrote is not what I meant.
I’m a publicist at heart, a salesperson by profession and a pleaser by nature, so this thing is spun within an inch of its life. Here’s the email again with the original text (unaltered) and what I really meant (WIRM).
Hi guys! We welcomed the Little Man on August 11 at 4:10pm. Little bugger came two weeks early! 8lb 6oz (ouch).
WIRM: I’m in more pain in areas that I had no idea existed two weeks ago.
He’s absolutely adorable - of course, we think he’s the cutest and coolest baby in the world.
WIRM: I’m staring at this baby trying to figure out if he’s cute or not. I honestly can’t tell. Other babies look cute. Mine looks like a baby. IS MY BABY CUTE YOU HAVE TO TELL ME BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW!!!! He’s not cool yet, but that’s nice to say.
Photos are coming in another email.
WIRM: I left my camera cord somewhere that hurts to walk to right now.
Not much sleep going on in the house right now, but last night he slept for two intervals of 3+ hours.
WIRM: I’m not sleeping. I haven’t slept in days. If I’ve “slept”, it meant that I was on the floor of the nursery on a body pillow just waiting for the kid to wake up again. 3+ hours of sleep for him meant about 15 minutes of continuous eyelids closed for me.
We feel human this morning.
WIRM: We didn’t recognize ourselves in the mirror.
It’s amazing what that tiny bit of REM sleep can do for you. But, every night is a new adventure in sleep patterns - are we going to get any or none?
WIRM: I hate the evening. I dread the evening. I’m going to lose my mind at the cruel joke that is the evening.
But, during the day, when he’s smiling with gas and looks up at you, it’s all worth it.
WIRM: Notice “smiling with gas” because he wasn’t smiling yet, and I thought that was an issue. At about two days I had this in my mind. He wasn’t looking at you because he was TWO DAYS OLD. He was looking at the moving light in your general direction. At this point, I still don’t understand how this can possibly be worth it.
So, the details.
OK - sorta altered. I’m going to spare you my birth story. If I’ve told you already, then you probably are close to me and need to know. If not, I went to the hospital and had a baby.
And here we are. Any and all advice is appreciated - I love hearing what people are saying.
WIRM: PLEEEAAASSSSEEE write me and make me feel like there is another human being out there because I’m stuck in this house in pain and sleep-deprived and thinking that my life will never be OK again.
The sleep thing being the big one right now.
WIRM: I’m dying here.
But, he’s gained back almost all his birth weight in about a week, seems very contented, and likes his crib.
WIRM: I don’t know what the hell he wants. Perhaps his crib. He’s not contented, but at the one split second I am writing this, he might have not been crying. Most of the time he’s just crying!!!
And he’s cute as a button.
WIRM: If I start talking in Southern-speak, I’m either lying through my teeth or angry as hell. Here…PLEASE TELL ME IF MY BABY’S CUTE!!!!!
Hope you guys are well, stay tuned for more pictures as time goes on. We’ll be sharing like crazy, I’m sure!!!
WIRM: I’m going to take pictures and share them so that someone will write me back and prove that there’s life outside this house. And perhaps you’ll have a work question for me because that will make me feel like I’m in control of my life. Work I can do. Mommying - no stinking idea!
Obviously I figured it out, but if you know me well you know that it took a really, really long time for us to get in a groove. And not all my emails have an alternate reading (though going through some old pitches, it might be funny to translate what I really meant…), but this email was packed with spin and different realities. And, I hate to say, a good number of tears.
When you see a new mommy, don’t tell her that it’s all worth it. Tell her that this sucks, and if she wants to cry on your shoulder you will not judge her. Tell her that there’s nothing that makes you feel better when you’re in this stage except time, booze and bad Bravo TV. Bring her the Pioneer Woman’s chicken spaghetti, a stack of gossip magazines, a box of Kleenex and a Target gift card. Be the friend (or even acquaintance - I would have taken anyone) who absolutely will never repeat any of the awful things that are going through her head.
There are plenty of friends who say, “Isn’t being mommy great?!” Be that friend that will share the dirty secret that the beginning is an absolute nightmare. But, yes, parenting is indeed worth it, and there’s nothing quite like it. It just takes a little while to get there.
