Dear Future Hil,
I hear congratulations are in order! Did you really just have a baby a couple days ago? Well, I must say you look stunning. I have been sent from the past to make you feel better. Think of me as the Ghost of Post-Partum Past.
Are you tired? Cranky? A shell of the woman you were just a few days ago? The beginning sucks. It does.
Your boobs hurt, don’t they? And when you pump, tears stream down your face because of hormones and tenderness. You stare at the clock and count the seconds until you can turn off the droning-siphon-soul-sucker. But if you don’t feed and pump, your boobs hurt even more. It’s a lose-lose situation.
Actually it’s a lose-lose-lose situation because breast feeding hurts too. Stop reading the hippy books that say it doesn’t hurt. It does.”Bonding?”
Oh and recovery from birth? It is traumatic. Stop reading the hippy books that say it isn’t. It is.
Your back hurts from picking up your baby and doing laundry. I know it hurts.
And I know you don’t want to talk to anyone on the phone because you’ll just cry. And because they will ask “OMG – don’t you just love your baby?!” and you won’t have an answer.
I know you are tired. I know you can’t imagine waking up one. more. time.
And that baby? Doesn’t even acknowledge all that you are going through. Mean baby.
And when you put it all together, you remember how sick Ridley was and how the doctors didn’t know if he would live. And you remember that it is a miracle to get pregnant. And that makes you feel guilty that you are even complaining.
Ah, what are you to do?
Don’t worry, Future Hil (cue super hero music)! I am writing this letter from the future. I am writing this letter from the two-month-old baby mark to tell you that good times are coming! Remember Ridley when he was two months old? He smiled. He cooed. He slept. When he woke up, he would cry until he saw you. Then he would smile. You looked forward to feeding times because it didn’t hurt anymore and he was so cuddly. Playtime was full of new discoveries. You would dress little bald Ridley in a black turtleneck onesie and call him Tiny Steve Jobs. That was hilarious!
If you are reading this, it’s because you have a new crying baby at home and you are too tired and hormonal to hope for the future. I know you feel guilty for complaining because babies are miracles. But it’s OK. Go ahead and cry. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m writing you this letter to remind you that the good times are coming. Very soon.
Hang in there!
P.S. And, you don’t look fat. You look great!