With a newborn screaming in the rock n play, I hurriedly pulled my hair into a neater ponytail than the one it was just in and slapped some bronzer on my face and stabbed studs into my ears. All my baby wanted to do was cluster feed, I was utterly exhausted, but my poor husband, and his love language of quality time, was desperate for a date night. We dropped our girl off to my mom who PRAISE THE LORD lives close by, and we went to dinner at Chili’s. I cried at dinner because that is what new moms do so we decided to try bowling since that is one of my favorite activities. I was too weak to even pretend to bowl well. I apologized to my husband, he assured me it was ok, and we headed back to my girl who was probably hungry because at this moment in her life she was used to eating near constantly, and I only left 4 pumped ounces with my mom.
When we walked in the door I acted as normally as I could. My mom was at ease in her favorite white sweatshirt, and my girl was crying in her arms. “She sucked that down in the first hour. I really wanted to give her some formula, but I didn’t.” I sat down and proceeded to breast feed and could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t have time to blink them back or look up before my mom said, “You can’t keep doing this, Abb.” I explained that I didn’t want to give up on breastfeeding, and that my husband helps a lot at night, but he’s exhausted too, and he has to go to work, and all she wants to do is eat anyway so she might as well be with me, and I’m just really tired, and my laundry is piled up. I said it all in one breathe just like that. Mom went into her kitchen, and I could hear her clanking dishes and pushing microwave buttons. In a few minutes she told me to come here. She had a huge plate of spaghetti ready for me. “You aren’t eating enough. If you are going to keep breastfeeding and pumping this much, you need to eat more.” I sat down (while my baby cried somewhere) and ate a massive plate of spaghetti despite the fact that I had just eaten an hour before. My mom told me to go shower, and she insisted that myself and my husband and my baby all sleep at her house for the night so that we could all get adequate sleep but still be all together. She knew I wouldn’t sleep at home without my girl, and she knew I wouldn’t sleep there without my husband, so we all stayed. I breastfed my girl one more time before I went to sleep and agreed to one bottle of formula for her at some point in the night. At 3 am I woke up needing to pump or feed. I had slept 4-5 hours straight for the first time in weeks. I pumped and then walked across the house to find my girl asleep in my mom’s arms, while my mom was awake with the TV on and muted. She smiled and said, “lil piggy jus sucked down 6 ounces.” I gave her the full bottle I had just pumped and went back to sleep without a second thought or single worry. Four hours later I woke up to repeat this exact same process, and we did it again three hours after that. I woke up for the day at 10 am knowing my mom had taken perfect care of my girl at the expense of her own sleep. My sister delivered Sonic breakfast burritos and local doughnuts. It was a team effort letting me sleep and getting me full. My husband was able to sleep 8 hours straight with no interruption. It was exactly what we both needed. It is so interesting to me that I did not know I was hungry. I knew I was tired, and I knew I was overwhelmed; I didn’t know I was hungry, but my mom did. In my new mom fog I wanted to breastfeed (and I am so glad I did), but I didn’t realize in that moment that it would be ok to give my girl a bottle of formula if it meant taking care of myself for a second, but my mom did. I wasn’t sure my mom would honor my wishes of not giving her formula while I was gone on my date, but she did. In that season, I remember giving everything I could every single day to this new little person. I never even considered anything less than that because she was mine and it was my job to take care of her, and I wanted to more than anything. I didn’t sleep so that she could get what she needed from me. She was my priority above all others because she simply needed to be. Despite me being 27 years old, my mom took care of me. I did not ask her to, she just did it. She didn’t sleep so that I could get what I so desperately needed from her. What I needed was sleep but also the security of knowing that while I slept my girl would be exceptionally cared for. My mom made me the priority that night above all others because she knew- even when I didn’t- that I needed to be. After the burritos and doughnuts were eaten, my mom and sister drove me and my girl home. I watched my sister follow the example of my mother as she started cleaning my house and folding my laundry. My mom got ready to leave and for the first time in my life that I can remember, I had to hold back tears because she was leaving. I didn’t cry when my mom took me to kindergarten. I went to Texas for ten days in middle school and jumped in the car and waved without a second thought. I have been to Africa and Argentina and moved out of her house having never shed a tear over not being with that woman. But on this day- as she stood on my porch with my screen door open- I had to hold back the tears that were brewing over the twelve-minute drive that she was about to make. To appreciate your mother is to become one and to suddenly realize how much she loves you, not because she has to, but because how could she not?
