9 Months In | 9 Months Out

Warning: this is a long, rambling, and sort of depressing post. Return tomorrow if you only care for lighthearted fun.

Ivy turned nine months old last week and it's truly unbelievable. Her entire life so far has taken place during historic and unprecedented times. Her last trimester was during the beginning of the pandemic and she was born right after the first peak began to subside.

In many ways Ivy's arrival changed our lives for the better. Babies are an incredible blessing. Miracles, truly. But, as any parent can relate, the joy of the baby still brings with it a lot of change that isn't always easy to navigate. On top of that, we were already weathering major life transitions as a result of the pandemic. I was mentally frayed before she arrived and when she burst into this world I wasn't necessarily prepared for how she would rock it even more.

With time, I've recognized that Ivy's actual birth was quite traumatic. I was more stressed than I have ever been in my entire life going into the hospital that night. I was overwhelmed by covid fears and not excited or mentally stable. I see that now. There were two distinct moments during my labor where we likely could have lost Ivy if it wasn't for the nurses watching the monitors carefully. I didn't realize the danger she was in at the time and everyone else was quiet about it. However, looking back, it could have very easily gone another way. Maybe if the maternity ward had been more crowded that night or the staff less attentive I wouldn't be writing this today. I'm grateful I didn't know the risk at the time and the initial recovery period after delivery in the hospital was actually great. I remain really proud of myself for how I handled having Ivy those first 48 hours without Dan being able to stay with me for much of the time. She and I bonded really well those first two days and I am grateful for that having experienced something quite different and much more difficult with Kip.

Then we returned home! Jumping from one child to two was a big leap. I was devastated to lose the attention I was able to give Kip when it was just him. I'm sure he was too. Simultaneously, we had to adjust back to a normal-ish life once the virus had leveled off in our area. Dan returned to his office for work. Mandy moved back to her apartment in New Jersey. I was on maternity leave but struggling to manage two kids in a tiny apartment and still feeling like it wasn't safe to go outside. It was that weird limbo where things were getting better but there was still that nervous unsure sort of post traumatic feeling that made it hard to jump back into life. Furthermore, massive lay-offs were taking place at my job immediately after I went out on leave. I did a lot of actual work during those first few weeks that Ivy was home with us. I took work calls every week and I worried about maintaining virtual connections with my colleagues during my absence. I very much felt like I needed to still be "on call" even when I was "on leave." That feeling definitely clouded what I had hoped would be a good bonding experience during Ivy's first months of life. 

Dan and I specifically planned Ivy's birth to coincide with summer. I wanted my leave to be during the summer months so that we could take full advantage of my time off and do a lot of fun stuff together as a family. The pandemic and the sweltering heat had other plans. We barely left the apartment and stayed cooped-up inside with nowhere to go anyways.  

But, there was a blessing in all of that. Were it not for the circumstances of our living situation amid a lock-down and the arrival of a second child in the middle of that, we might not have seen the need for more space in the same way. We never planned to move. We never expected to afford a house. We never considered New Jersey a viable living/working option. By mid summer we were faced with the reality that I would be working from home indefinitely. Room sharing for a toddler and a newborn wasn't going to work for some time. Kip wouldn't be starting preschool in the fall. It was apparent that a two bedroom apartment would never accommodate productivity without a separate working area and separate sleep situations for Kip and Ivy.  

God blessed us with the circumstances in such a way that we were able to find, close, and move within two months. It was a whirlwind I wouldn't recommend attempting but we survived. Since that time we've all recognized God's hands in every aspect. We purchased this home for around $100,000 less than any comparable town home in our community has sold for since...in fact, one just down the block sold in a bidding war for nearly $200,000 more than what we purchased ours for and only a few months after we closed. Had we not taken that little afternoon picnic back in June, I don't know where we would be today. 

We moved two days before Ivy turned three months old and I started back at work full time. We were adjusting to a new state, a new living arrangement, multi-level parenting, a toddler who never had more access to space or stairs in his life, integrating Mandy into our hustle and flow, unpacking, and getting back to work, and still trying to find a rhythm with a newborn. It was rough. Mentally, I'm astounded I made it through that time. 

But with the house we all felt some amount of relief. We all had more space. We could get outside much more easily. We could go on walks and get fresh air and sunshine flooded our living room all day long. It was bumpy for sure but we rebounded.

After we moved, Ivy hit the four month sleep regression and has never slept the same since. It's a big bummer, but in many ways I am so grateful she was such a sweet and sleepy trooper those first three months of her life when everything else was so chaotic.

In the last nine months every aspect of our lives has changed. We've had truly awful days more than I would have liked. I've hated myself as a mom often and been disappointed that I haven't always enjoyed these baby days with Ivy. I often feel overwhelmed by the stress of everything and how it overshadows my parenting on those days. I go to bed wishing for a do-over. A lot of times people say, "you'll miss this...babies don't keep...treasure every moment..." and while I recognize all of that as true, it doesn't change reality. Those comments, though well meaning, add guilt to pain. Time always adds a rosy quality to the past. We remember happy times over dark ones. That's a good thing! But in the moment, in those difficult times when the baby won't sleep, the toddler is screaming again, pressures mount at work, relationships are strained, and anxiety fills every second... I can't convince myself to "treasure every moment." Two things are true: I am grateful for what I have AND this situation is hard. 

The only thing that I can give to myself is grace and forgiveness and try my best to extend those to others, even a little baby. I know I will look back at this and think of it all differently. Maybe even wish to wake up at 4 am and snuggle a restless Ivy! I hope that future Stephanie won't be too hard on past Stephanie. Maybe she can extend some grace as well.

 

We've had bumps these last nine months but gosh if she isn't just the sweetest. Parenthood is weird and wild and a whole rainbow of emotions every day.

Check out Kip's 9 In 9 Out post back here. Ugh! I miss that little squish. I can look at that post from three years ago and see the past as rosy. Ivy and I will get there too.