Don’t Worry, Mama– The Cloud of Having a Newborn Does Slowly Lift

Ah. A new year, a new me. Oh wait, no. I’m still the high functioning zombie I was a week ago.

But.

I feel as if a weight has lifted.

A year ago I had our youngest baby. Maybe it’s just finally hitting that one year mark that has made me let go of some of that postpartum anxiety. Maybe starting to get a little bit more “me time” has helped. Or maybe, being completely and utterly overwhelmed forced me to laugh hysterically and say SCREW YOU, UNIVERSE. I AM GOING TO RISE ABOVE.

We had a wonderful but stressful Christmas break, filled with lots of loving family but also sickness and traveling stress. We packed up the day after Christmas and drove to Northern California, stuck in traffic the entire 12-hour drive–with three kids under the age of six, and a bulldog who was perfecting making a hole in the ozone layer. There was a lot of screaming.

We squeezed seeing friends and family into three short days, and then turned around and drove back home. We arrived to find our house in the normal post-Xmas disarray. We wanted to just sit back and enjoy our last few days of vacation, but it is hard to relax when you can’t see your living room floor and the Christmas tree is twinkling and whispering, “Remember how many ornaments are on me? Yeah. Have fun taking me down.”

My husband plugged in the vacuum and half of the house lost power. (Maybe this is a sign that we just shouldn’t bother cleaning. Ever.) Our refrigerator and microwave were causalities. We didn’t realize that the fridge wasn’t working until the next morning when I awoke to find a puddle of water/fruit juice/mystery freezer slime on the kitchen floor. All of our food was ruined. I had just mopped the goddamn floor. WHY?!

I paced around like a crazy person for a few moments, circling the kitchen like an angry bull.

Half our house was in a blackout. Our microwave was toast. Our fridge– one of the few big-ticket items we had bought– had all its lights on but refused to produce cold. It was New Year’s Eve and no one was open. How much money was all of this going to cost?

It was just too much. I am a sponge, and taking on everyone’s stress, coupled with my own legitimate worries about my kids, our finances, global warming, Trump, de-funding Planned Parenthood, if Nashville is going to get canceled again etc.– I couldn’t hold on to it any longer.

So I laughed.

Alone, drinking coffee like a madwoman while everyone else slept, I laughed. And when I finished, all my stress was gone.

Somehow being pushed to the edge of the abyss actually saved me. I feel like the clouds have parted and I am more me, more centered and more grounded than I have been in a long time. I am able to see more of the humor, to be happier, and feel luckier. I am able to appreciate everything that I do have.

I have three of the most beautiful, intelligent, sweetest children. I have a husband who calls me on the bullshit, kisses me when I’m down and makes me smile even when I’m raising my fist to stick a fork in someone’s forehead. I have a wonderful family, great friends, and my whole life ahead of me.

Thanks for the wake-up call, universe. You’re a real bitch but I still appreciate it.