It is Okay to Make It Simple

I sat alone in my hospital room the first night after I had Grace. I had given birth at a baby friendly hospital and while I could call for help, the protocol is to let babies stay in the room with their moms to help promote bonding and breastfeeding. It sounds great in theory and for some I’m sure it’s wonderful.

After I had Jack I couldn’t imagine sending him to the nursery because I had John their to help me. But with Grace it was just her and I. At one point in the night after I had gotten out of bed to change her and then gotten back into bed to nurse her,( a really difficult task by any standards if you’ve given birth scarcely 12 hours earlier) it hit me. This is where it starts; that feeling that, I, as the mother, have to do everything. That I’m never allowed to take the easy way out. That it’s just me and these kids and I should just be able to do it all, even at times like that when it felt physically impossible.

This is me paddling against the current. We nearly were swept out to see.

When I had Jack, I let that feeling get the best of me. I remember so many times when I was drowning in all the things that needed doing and instead of asking for help, I just kept swimming against the current hoping that it would get better.

Sometimes I made it through, other times I waited until it was too late to call for help. Like the time Jackson was sick at 8 months old and instead of asking for help, I just kept pushing along until in all my sleep deprived daze, I realized that the dog had not come back from in and the gate in the yard was open. It was only then that I called my Mom in tears. She dropped everything and came over, and wondered why I hadn’t called sooner. The thing was it hadn’t occured to me. This was my job, I was his mother. I should be able to manage all the things.

I swore this time I wasn’t going to let that voice telling me it was my job to do it all win. I was going to take the help. I was going to make my life simpler when I could. I order my groceries, diapers, and dog food online. I shifted all my work to being able to work-at-home. If a friend offers to help I take it. And I try for the most part not to feel guilty about it.

But asking for help. That’s still hard. There are still days when I struggle with it. I took Grace for her first sick visit yesterday, she has a little stomach bug. When I got home she finally took a nap but it was so close to when I would have to pick Jack up for school. I debated calling my MIL to get him, I thought about just waking her up and going and as I debated these two I thought to myself. Why not just make it simple? Why stress about it? Why wake the sick baby if I didn’t have to? So I called my MIL and sure enough she was more than happy to pick Jack up.

There will always be a part of me that feels guilty for asking for help. A part that will remain stubborn and shout, “you can do this yourself”. There will be a part of me that feels like taking help is the easy way out. But there are no awards for being stubborn. No accolades for being the busiest. No bonus for having done it the hard way. So when that voice shouts, I take a deep breath and remind myself make it simple.