When I was pregnant I read, and read, and read. Everything and anything I could read about pregnancy, childbirth, parenting, breastfeeding, formula feeding, c-sections, use of pacifiers.....if I found it, I read it. I watched so many Baby Stories, Make Room for Multiples, and Birth Days on TLC that I started to see reruns. I attended a birth class and had my labor and delivery planned. I knew how everything was going to go.
Or so I thought.
I learned that things don't always go as planned when I started having pre-term contractions at 29 weeks, went to the hospital to have those contractions stopped twice, and then was put on modified bed rest at 30 weeks. When I went into labor 3 days early, had painful back labor, tried for 12 hours without medication and then finally begged for medication, and then struggled for two hours to push my son out, I learned that there is no way anyone can plan their labor and delivery.
After getting up 6-8 times every night for 9 months to feed my waking son, having countless days when my newborn would cry and I couldn't figure out why, trying to take trips to Target because "everyone else's baby just sleeps in their car seat in the cart, so mine will too" only to find out that I couldn't even leave the car because my son was so upset and having to turn around and go right back home.... I learned that every baby is different.
When my son refused to breast feed at ten months old, and I pleaded and tried and kept pumping only to get an ounce or 2 a day and a very upset child, I accepted the fact that I would start giving him formula.
And now, with Isaac eating solid foods, I have to bite my tongue and close my eyes not to get upset every time he throws the food on the ground after eating two bites. Every time he refuses to eat anything, even though he hasn't eaten in a long time, and I know that according to the charts he's on the thinner side and I've been given tons of advice on how to get him to plump up and eat more, I just have to go with it.
I can ask others, I can read, I can research, I can plan, I can hope. None of those things are bad things, but only by doing can I actually learn. Only by doing can I actually accomplish. Only by doing can I mess up, cry, give up, pull myself up, and start over again. So I fumble through , and I do the things I don't want to do. And each time, those things get a little easier.
Oh how things have changed in these 14 short months.