For the majority of my first year as a mother, I was raising Mark alone. Due to deployments and other military obligations I was in it all by myself for probably 9 out of 12 months, which I quickly realized was how it was going to be until we moved again. I’ll be honest, it got kind of easy once I came to terms with being pretty solitary. I got into this groove with Mark that made things pretty easy. I finally felt like I enjoyed this and really fell headfirst into being a pretty kick-ass mom if I’m going to toot my own horn.
Right after Mark was born we were still living in a tiny little studio apartment on the side of a highway in Cambridge. Paying way too much money, with not nearly enough space, and no where for our dogs to be, well, dogs. Being right next to a highway we didn’t have really anywhere to go for those nice walks after he was born, but honestly I was so paranoid about the world around me with a newborn that it didn’t even matter. But soon after Joe got back from one of his trips, with a 1 month old, we made the switch and moved onto a military base near us to give me peace of mind when Joe wasn’t home, save some money, and finally have that safe space to walk around without having a panic attack.
Moving with a newborn is no small feat. We took several trips from our old apartment to our new house all while juggling feedings and diaper changes (and snuggles). It took us about a week to get all our stuff moved into the new place (not unpacked what do I look like? an overachiever?) and I will forever be grateful that in those moments I was not alone. At that moment, I had a village. I had my mom, my dad, my husband, and my beautiful baby boy. But that was not the case for most of the time.
Mark’s first year was a rollercoaster of me trying to figure out how to be a mom all alone, while he was just trying to figure out not being in his safe little apartment womb. I spent the first few months trying to figure out why this child would projectile vomit on me after every feeding. He ate just fine, he burped, he seemed content and then he would just vomit on me. I couldn’t figure it out and the doctor couldn’t give me any answers. I was crying every single night, a lot of the time to my mom, about how worried I was that he wasn’t getting nutrients, regardless of him gaining weight perfectly. I was loosing my footing again after finally starting to adjust, and just like my dad I was falling down a mountain head first (metaphorically for one of us). Long story short he was lactose intolerant I felt so dumb that as his mom I couldn’t have figured that one out immediately.
And this inconsolable, unsolvable diaper rash that he always got. I can’t count how many times I had to rinse him off in the sink and get peed and pooped on trying to let him air out. I was beyond relieved when I got an answer to that one. The yeast infection that just wouldn’t leave us alone finally got solved with some cream from the doctor after probably 8 months of chaos with diaper creams and changing diaper brands.
Every time that Joe was home I battled this terrible feeling watching my little man cling to me and not know his daddy. He couldn’t figure out why this giant beanstalk of a man would come and go so much. It felt good to be needed, but not if it meant that it was going to break Joe’s heart. And I’ll be honest him not knowing his daddy was definitely heart wrenching and having some help should’ve been an amazing thing, but this man just came in like a wrecking ball and ruined my entire routine. It took every second of the few short weeks at a time that the two of them would be together for Mark to adjust to having daddy home, and then just like that, we would be alone again.
I’m sure we’ve all heard “well when they start crawling you’re in trouble”, and boy is that right. He started crawling and I had to try and keep up with figuring out where to put gates, and how to keep him from touching the blinds when he so desperately wanted to look outside. I was running around like a mad woman trying to baby proof our house. Way harder than it looks. There’s so many screws and parts involved to making a house where your child isn’t going to do something detrimental to themselves.
When he finally started going to daycare I about made myself pass out from worry and then within 3 days he had pink eye. Just like a lot of other things, all the mom advice I got conveniently omitted the fact that your child will get sick, a lot, while in daycare. It’s a stressful experience to say the least to leave your child in the hands of a daycare after hearing all the horror stories that circulate every year. I thank my lucky stars that his first ever daycare had the most caring and respectful staff. They made me feel so at ease with something that had caused me so much panic. They really helped Mark and I come into our own and adjust to this new life, so thank you to them.
When he started getting bigger and developing this huge personality it was like a weight had just lifted off my shoulders. All this parenting alone and all the mistakes I had made were so worth it to see that smile and hear his little giggles all the time. This kid made chasing him around and playing with him so much more magical than I ever imagined it could be as a little girl dreaming of being a mom. Even through all our challenges, he made it all so absolutely worth it, and I will forever cherish all the snuggles and kisses I got from him while it was still just me and him.
