Being a new mom is very overwhelming. You're getting
zero sleep, you have an entire little person depending on you day and night for
their every need. For a first time mom, as I was, it was the most amazing thing
I had done in my life thus far and even though it was hard, I was enjoying
every minute of it, because I was just so grateful to have a baby at all. There
isn't really anything that can prepare you for the emotional rollercoaster that
you will go through with having your first baby, but I had struggled so much up
to that point that I was definitely on an emotional "high" for a long
time.
Braden was a very good baby. He started sleeping
through the night at two months old and he thrived on our daily routines and
let me tell you, he had a smile that could melt anyone's heart! He would smile at everyone, strangers included. He
had big blue eyes, and chubby little cheeks and was seriously the cutest baby I
had ever seen (and I'm not just saying that because I'm his mother, he really
was the cutest baby!). He was a fast growing boy and by his four month appointment, he already weighed 19 pounds! I
was loving being able to stay at home with him for those first few months, but
eventually I had to get a part time job as a massage therapist in the evenings,
but it worked out okay for us and we were really enjoying being parents.
Now, developmental expectations, ah, what is normal? If anyone can give me
an answer to that question, good for you, because I still don't know what that word really
means. I was a first time mother, so how did I know if my baby was reaching his
developmental milestones? I started with a really thick book, written by a
bunch of pediatricians. I was also getting information from our own pediatrician
at each check-up, but I watched other babies that were Braden's age as well. I
talked to other moms and it seemed like every baby did things at different
times. How would I know if Braden was "on schedule"? I constantly
worried about it because it always seemed to me that Braden was running behind,
but everyone told me not to worry to much about it and boys tended to take
their time. He was hitting his milestones; he just seemed to hit them on the
late end of the "expectations spectrum". He was a quirky little guy,
and seemed to be sensitive to loud noises, and especially hated when people
sang the "happy birthday" song. He would cover his ears and just
cry—every time. He was about 14 or 15 months old and had barely started
walking, but my biggest concern was that he had not said any words yet—no
"mama" or "dada" or "baba" or anything, he made babbling
noises but never made words. It worried me, so I brought up my concern with the
pediatrician. Let me tell you how much I loved our pediatrician, he didn't just
blow off my concern, he said that if I was worried, there was an early
intervention program through the State that would do a free speech evaluation
and if there was a delay, he would get free speech therapy. He gave me the
information to call and I did. Two very nice ladies came to our home and played
with Braden for a little bit and asked me several questions (little did I know
this was the VERY FIRST evaluation of many, many more that I would have to go
through eventually, and still do.) At the end of our evaluation, they told me
that Braden had a slight delay (about 25%) though I have no idea how they
calculate a delay with a percentage. They told me that in order to qualify for
the early intervention program he needed to have a 50% delay, so I thought what
they were giving me was good news. He was a little behind, but I was sure he
would catch up. They told me that if he had made no improvements by the time he
reached 18 months, to call them again and they would be happy to reevaluate. It
was good news that he didn't qualify, right?
PLAYTIME: Braden was a very content little kid when
it came to playtime. His favorite movie was "Cars" and his favorite
toys were cars. He loved anything that had wheels on it. Pretty normal for a
boy, right? He was also very happy to play by himself and didn't seem all that
interested in playing with me. I would sit down to play with him and he would
"tolerate" me (for lack of a better word) for a few minutes and then
he would simply walk away (or crawl) and go back to doing his own thing. I
asked a friend of mine who had a baby boy only 9 months older than Braden, and
she said she never got a minute alone because her little guy was always
pestering her to play with him. I should feel fortunate to have time to myself,
right? That's not exactly how it felt to me. I had been so excited to become a
mom and play with my baby that it stung
a little every time he would walk away, or didn't let me read a story to him. I
began to wonder if there was something that I was doing wrong as a mom.
I never stopped to worry about how he was playing with his toys either. I wasn't aware there was
such a thing called "appropriate play". He was a little boy, he liked
cars, what more did I need to worry about? He was a very smart and curious
baby, he would inspect every inch of every car, and he would flip it over and
play with the wheels to see how everything worked. We watched this and thought
"Wow, he's definitely going to grow up to be a mechanic or engineer."
He would line up all of his little matchbox cars and inspect each one, and
heaven help the person who put them out of order. He certainly knew how he
wanted things. He was also apparently the only 14 month old who would sit and
watch an entire movie from start to finish (according to my other mom friends)
but he seemed to prefer the pixar type animated movies as opposed to those
wonderful old disney movies that I loved as a child. He also made it clear that
he wanted to watch the ENTIRE movie, including the credits (all of them). We
had to make sure not to start a movie right before bedtime, because there would
be a tantrum if he couldn't finish it. It was just another quirky thing about
Braden.
TANTRUMS: Every baby has tantrums and I never
expected that my baby would be tantrum free, but what was odd to me was the
things that made my baby have a tantrum. Someone opening and closing a door for
instance, it didn't matter whether it was the front door, the gate, or the
bathroom door (even the refrigerator door). It didn't matter if they were
coming or going, if they opened and closed the door, he threw a tantrum about
it. They seemed like pretty long (sometimes up to an hour), nasty tantrums for
something so silly as someone opening a door. I began to dread company, and I
tried to make sure he was in a different room when Daddy came home from work. His
tantrums began to increase in number and became more intense. He began banging
his head on anything he could find, the wall, the floor and we worried that he
would seriously hurt himself, so we ended up having to hold him in our lap and
restrain him until the tantrum was over (after an hour, both of us were
exhausted). I was really beginning to doubt my mothering abilities, because
Braden seemed frustrated all the time, he still wasn't talking (which would
frustrate anyone) and he seemed to only need me for his basic needs. I loved
him so, so much and wanted to play with him and bond with him, but he didn't
seem to have that same desire. It hurt, and I took it personally, and I felt
like I was failing him as a mother in some way.
QUIRKY BABY?: Other than the things I've already
talked about, Braden had other "quirks" that made him seem different
than his peers. He didn't like to be held, unless you were spinning him around
or doing something rough (except throwing him in the air, he didn't like that).
He didn't look anyone in the eyes for very long, especially if you were close
to him. He would look anywhere but at your face. He would drag us to whatever
he wanted and put our hand on it if he wanted something, like a movie, or food.
He would drag me to the TV and put my finger on the power button. He would drag
me to the fridge and put my hand on the fridge to let me know he was hungry or
thirsty (it was a lot of guessing on my part) He wasn't pointing to anything. I was trying to do everything that other
moms did and I talked to him and tried to read to him a lot. He just never
seemed to want to interact with me very much. I wondered that he didn’t seem
afraid of anything he would have
walked right in front of a moving car or touched an open flame, though we had
tried to show him he could be hurt by those things. He never showed any sign of
separation anxiety, which made me feel sad in a way, like he didn’t need me or
love me enough to care when I wasn’t around. I was so lost in a sea of despair
and feeling like a complete failure as a mother, but I had no idea how to fix
whatever I was doing wrong.
I began to
think that maybe I really wasn't meant
to be a mom after all—and that broke my heart more than anything.
(See what I mean? He was the cutest little guy EVER!)
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