"Having Kids Changes Your Relationship"

You know what I think it is more than anything?  Your instincts, that used to be perfectly honed to each other, are now all focused on learning to care for a new life.

If you have the blessing of a loving relationship, chances are you have never (before kids, that is) needed to explain your needs to your partner.  Or at least, very few of them.  In fact, it's probably one of the things that attracted you to each other in the first place: this effortless give and take where communication seems to happen through osmosis or something.  Your nearness to each other is really all that's needed.

Along comes the wee one.  Your hearts are filled with this joy you never understood until now, and the magic is an extension of the two of you.  Proof of what a miracle love is.

And then, as my husband and I joke all the time, it gets real, real quick.  You're changing diapers, up at 1am, and 2, and 3, and 5 (oh my gosh! He slept for two hours! Do you think he's starting to change his sleep pattern?) and 6 (nope).  Suddenly this rhythm of life that you had is not so much interrupted as completely obliterated...

Is he eating enough? Is he cold? Did you check his temperature? Did you change his diaper? Did you check his temperature? Is he eating enough? Does he have a stomach ache? Why is he screaming? They told us in the hospital to give him a bath in this sling but it's the supidest #$$*(% thing I've ever heard of--the kid's freezing.  How do I change this freaking thermometer to fahrenheit? Are there too many blankets? We're not supposed to cover him when he sleeps.  Why isn't he sleeping? We're not supposed to put him on his belly.

Wait, food?  I'm starving--did you cook dinner?  No, I didn't cook dinner.  I was breastfeeding and then he wouldn't sleep so I laid him down.  I put him on his belly and he fell asleep so much faster but then I was so afraid he wouldn't keep breathing that I just sat there and watched him.  And I tried to fold laundry but I just couldn't stop crying.  He did sleep for two hours though!  Oh my gosh, what if he's reversing his nights and days? NO I didn't cook dinner! Oh my god I didn't cook dinner! You've been working all day and you have class tonight too and all I've done is sit around here and get nothing done.  And you probably need to fill up the car with gas too.  Did you fill up the car with gas?

...Well, you get the picture.

See, the thing is, as much joy as a baby is (and I promise it IS a joy too; the previous two paragraphs of stress are truthful but that stress pales in comparison to the love you feel when you hold that sweet babe in your arms), they sort of take a lot of effort.  So all that time and energy you were able to spend anticipating each other's needs is now spent anticipating the BABY's needs.  And suddenly your partner doesn't know you need a hug right now, and you don't know your partner just wants you to say "thank you, I love you."  It's not that you don't know these things about each other or that you don't want to give each other all the love and affirmation you always did.  It's just that now you have to think about it, because all your instinct-emotions are being used to try to learn how to care for the most terrifying and wonderful responsibility you have ever had.

All those things that used to go unsaid might need to be shared now, and shared often.  At least until you figure out a new life rhythm with the three (or more!) of you.

You'll Understand When You Have Kids of Your Own

Everyone talks about how life-altering having a child is, but it's really hard to articulate how it feels.  I remember asking my girlfriends, "How does it feel to be a mom?"  Now, being on the receiving end of that question, I've thought a LOT about it.  How do I describe to someone what being a parent feels like?

It's not perfect.  But here's the closest I've got (and sorry, it's mushy.  But seriously, you asked what it feels like to be a parent.  What did you expect?):

Imagine a heart that's shared between two people.  I don't mean that one person has one half and the other person has the second half.  I mean that it's one single heart that beats in the ribs of two people.  That's what it felt like for me being in love with my husband.  It was like our hearts were always one heart, and without each other  in our lives we just felt...wrong...or off somehow.  Once we found each other, the closer we were the easier it was: as if our heart had to work harder to keep us strong when we were far apart.  But still, finding each other made us feel complete.  Happy.  Even from a distance.  

Now imagine that same heart.  But instead of being protected by your ribs AND the ribs of your partner, it is passed through your body and living outside of you in your child.  Suddenly you see this love radiating in every corner of your world.  When it was inside you, you could never see how strong, how beautiful it was.   But, with the splendor comes terror too.  Every day is agony.  It doesn't matter where you are, how close your baby is.  Your heart will never be inside you again.  It goes with that baby wherever he goes, and nothing will keep it safe forever.