No one likes to talk about the bad days

It's easy to blog about the good days, the joy of life. It's not so easy to be honest about the real emotions and hormonal pinball machine your heart and mind are thrown into.

The joy of motherhood is real.  It is the most amazing gift on earth.  Her little hands and feet mesmerize me.  Every noise or interaction is like a first step.  I am incredibly thankful to be home with my daughter for the first months of her life.  I know these are moments I will never have again. 

The bad days are real too.  It doesn't discredit the joys mentioned above... I won't let them. They are real for everyone, but for a new mom the baby blue days happen. You don't want to talk about it.  You don't want people to think you aren't joyful and happy and on cloud 9.  I was! I am! but, I still had/have bad days.  The more we don't talk about those days, the more everyone else feels like they are crazy and alone.  

I have learned to claim my bad moments and days.  To own them, to admit them, and to talk about them.  Then, I try to counteract them.  Does this always work? No. But usually it helps just a little bit.

My bad days are on rainy days... like yesterday.  I don't like to be stuck inside or to get wet in the rain.  Lately, getting outside is a big deal. (But I can walk in the mall and park under a parking deck!)

My bad days are when I don't feel like a good mom.  When she cries and I don't know why... when I go too long without feeding her.  When I miss my freedom.  When I just can't lift/load/carry that incredibly heavy car seat.  (But I am doing the best I can every day.  I have people in my life that I can text or call and admit I don't feel like a good mom.)

My bad days are when I can't wear anything in my closet pre baby.  When I read that pinterest blog "I was thinner than pre pregnancy at 4 weeks" and I secretly hate that girl I don't know.  (But I look at this sweet baby girl and know my body held her for 9 months and she is healthy and beautiful and I stick with my T shirt and thank god for those elastic black pants.)

My bad days are when I actually find time to run an errand and the lady at Walgreens is having a bad day too.  (I forget I'm not the only one who has them.)

My bad days are when I accidentally spill just a spot of that liquid gold and I cry a little. (There is nothing that counteracts spilled milk.)

My bad days are when I think about going back to work because I love my job and cry thinking about it. (Then I'm thankful for a husband who supports my decision and loves me because I am wired to be a working mom.)

My bad days are when I cry. For no reason in particular and I don't want to cry, but I cry, then little one cries and crying doesn't actually feel foreign anymore. And it can be anything really. That stupid Mother's Day publix commercial or someone dying on Grey's Anatomy or anyone having a baby in a movie or on tv. (Tears are purposeful, but sometimes have no explanation... So I let them happen.)

My bad days aren't days really... they are moments. They don't counteract my good days and my good weeks.  I don't let them. My joy is so much bigger than my bad moments.  I had this huge realization when my daughter was about 3 weeks old and I was in the hardest days... this is the most joyous time of my life.  I can let it pass by in a blur of my tears or I can embrace these days that are joyous.  Joy was my choice.  It is daily.  It isn't easy and perhaps I am writing this to remind myself of my choice. Some days my choice is to cry and to have a bad day.  It. is. ok.  Tomorrow is new and different and it might be another bad day, but at least it's a new day.  I wish I had the perfect verse for the exact moments of these days. And of course there are many, but the only one that came to my mind over and over again was He makes all things new.  Newness doesn't erase the previous.  It just starts over.  Life is new. Babies are new and sweet and smell good. Days are new, moments are new.  I can't make them new. I can't start the day over, or produce life on my own.  But My God who is so great and mighty can.  He can start it over and start new life and it is amazing and fresh and beautiful.

He makes all things new.


*Disclaimer- Every woman is different and experiences emotions in different ways. This is simply my journey in trying to cope and figure it all out.