My son was only 1 month old, but already he knew his favorite things: me, me, and me. Clearly, he had fabulous taste. The problem with establishing this early aesthetic was how he let me know: He screamed.
I figured I could figure out a way to stay by my baby’s side until he went to college, or until he stopped screaming for me, whichever milestone came first. I was betting I could go that long without a bathroom break. Or maybe my sleep-deprived brain had come up with the worst plan ever.
I’d asked my husband to hold our son so I could brush my teeth
It was one of the few activities I hadn’t yet safely mastered while holding my infant. Over the last month, I’d discovered innovative ways to pee, eat, and text while holding my newborn, but the squeezing of toothpaste was tricky. Through the closed bathroom door, the disappointed screams of my son echoed louder than me watching the final episodes of Game of Thrones. His cries hit my heart with such force, I squeezed toothpaste all over the mirror. I’d been gone too long.
I figured my son’s bellows were his way of communicating that he needed me. My mom guilt reasoned that I’d be doing irreparable damage to tiny developing brain synapses if I left him with family members to shriek for longer than 0.3 seconds. Since I was scared to leave him, I tried only being away from my infant in tiny bursts. Being gone a few seconds couldn’t do any damage to his brain or the trust we were building because I’d always be there to build it.
My little sidekick and I did well for a time, but it didn’t take long to notice some problems inherent in my clever plan — it left me no moments for myself. Without much warning, I found myself lost in a land of baby.
Life became an endless cycle of nighttime feedings, daytime feedings, and all the other feedings in between. Half the time I couldn’t remember if I’d fed myself.
I began to experience a sinking feeling I couldn’t place
It certainly couldn’t be a need for a moment of space. Even considering the thought of finagling time to regroup made me feel like a jerk. I felt like I was shirking my responsibilities as a mother.
This is just what life with a newborn is like, right? I mean, what kind of mom takes a break from her own baby? The kind that doesn’t get a “World’s Greatest Mom” mug for Mother’s Day, that’s what kind.
Then one night, we both couldn’t stop crying
I was losing my patience trying to get my son to sleep, and I felt a small part of me crack inside. It was clear I needed space to cry alone. Not listening to myself and continuing in this state wouldn’t help either of us. So, I walked down the hall and handed our son to my husband. Then, I went to the bathroom and cried out weeks of pent-up everything.
Coming back to my son refreshed helped me realize I needed to take a little time for myself when possible. In taking that moment, I was surprised to learn I’d actually created a more positive space for us to connect — and forging a healthy connection had always been my goal. I guess getting lost in Baby Land helped me draw a better road map to finding a greater bond with my son.
And if you’re a new mom who feels like you’re drowning, just know you’re not alone and wanting to take time alone — even if it’s just asking your partner to hold the baby while you cry in the bathroom — doesn’t make you less of a mom. It makes you a better, happier mom — which is one of the best things any of us can do for our children.
