One of the great joys of my job is to sit in that New Mama Class classroom with 8 or 9 women who have just had a baby, and reassure them that they’re NORMAL.
Moms: have you ever be in the middle of a situation that seemed so ridiculous – so ludicrous – that you wonder if you’ve stepped into some alternate universe?
I remember when my son David was about two weeks old. I was cradling him in my arms in the rocking chair, reading him a story called “On the Day You Were Born”. Sunlight was coming through the window, and the house was quiet. By all appearances it was a peaceful, lovely scene.
All of a sudden, I burst out in the most violet sobbing fit – shoulders shaking, heaving, tears streaking down my face – what my husband calls “popping snot bubbles”. The fit came out of nowhere like a rogue wave, just as abrupt as it was intense. Then, in a moment, it was gone, leaving me snotty and tear-streaked, flabbergasted. What. Was. That?
That, my friends, is a little thing we call “Postpartum”. It’s like falling down a worm hole into Crazytown. That little wrinkle in the universe that makes it seem rational to consider peeing on the couch because you don’t want to move while holding a baby it took 2 hours to get to sleep, meanwhile your bladder is filling to overcapacity and you’d rather have slipcovers made than wake that baby.
Or finding yourself in the car, backing out of the driveway at midnight, with your husband in his boxer shorts holding the baby, chasing you, screaming “Don’t leave!” after a rip-roaring fight.
Or flying into a fit of sleep deprived rage at the sight of a pile of wadded-up diapers around the base of the Diaper Genie, and chucking them at your husband as hard as you can after he asked if you needed help.
Oh yes. I know you have your own stories of finding yourself in Crazytown. And there’s nothing more satisfying than hearing other people’s stories about their trip down the wormhole, just so you know you’re not the only one.
What are your stories?