Perspectives...

I posted on Facebook yesterday that as terrible as it might sound, I've sort of been hating my maternity leave so far.

Sounds bitter. Mean. Not very nice-mommy-like. And ever so slightly "postpartum blues," right? I really don't think it's the blues at all. Just a real statement that probably a lot of moms feel (whether it's kiddo #1 or #2 or more).

I mean, I love love LOVE Finlay. He's super cute, makes all kinds of squeaking noises and little smiles, and absolutely lights up his older sister's world. (His errant hand will graze her face as she literally plants down on top of him, and she'll squeal in delight, "Mommy! Finlay touched me! FINLAY TOUCHED ME!!!")

When we first arrived home from the hospital, I was moving slow and taking things easy, due to the c-section and normal after-birth recovery necessary to any mother. We had family here in town, and when they left, along came my mom (and her fiance) and my sister for the weekend. Finally alone as a family of four the following week, I developed a sinus headache but figured it would go away soon enough on its own. Tee Jay was off from work that whole week, and we enjoyed our time together, despite my occasional complaint of "Why can't my head stop killing me?"

At the end of that week, on my first night of sleeping on Finlay's side of the bed, I strained my neck in wanting to watch and attend to him... and therefore pulled a muscle, which has resulted in nearly two weeks of subsequent pain. And I'm not just talking a little dull throbbing here and there. I was experiencing massive, major pain that would radiate up into my skull. The kind of pain that you can't just sit around and "take." The kind that definitely warrants some medication.

I put myself back on a regular dosage of Motrin (having been on it initially for the c-section healing) and booked an appointment at the doctor's office, where I was also prescribed an antibiotic for what was confirmed to most probably be a sinus infection. My doctor also wrote a script for a c-spine x-ray (as a "just in case" if I continued to be in severe pain by the end of this week) and taught me a couple of ways that he'd like me to sleep to best support the neck. (Tee Jay has subsequently moved back to Finlay's side of the bed for now, and he dutifully wakes up to hand me the baby for nursing throughout the night, bless his heart.)

Among the antibiotic and its corresponding acidophilus, pain medication, Colace, and prenatal vitamins, there were days when I was taking 17 pills in total. Casey has begun counting my dosages for me when I take them, and she asked in the car this morning, "Your neck and head hurt?" because there's no escaping Christina-complaints in this household. Everyone knows that mommy hasn't been up to par.

Tee Jay began to feel ill (stomach-wise) at work on Monday and ended up having a co-worker drive him home after he made a couple of failed attempts to venture there himself. Within two hours of his being snug on the couch, I too was sick, and I spent the better part of that evening vomiting wherever I could make it (the utility sink, Casey's potty, and thankfully often the toilet - where normal people choose to do such a thing). I felt a deep despair that night, crying, praying that God would send one of our mothers to our doorstep, wondering how on earth we'd manage to take care of two children while sick. Once the stomach bug passed (we are very appreciative that it seemed to be a 12-hour thing), I moaned that my neck and head still felt like they were literally exploding. I complained that I didn't know how I'd manage to keep two children happy all by myself on Thursday (when Casey is not in day care). I cried that I felt like I was failing as a mother and not being able to truly just enjoy my children and my time home with them.

And while I know my feelings were all valid and normal, especially when you add post-pregnancy hormones into the mix, last night I made a conscious decision to try to put things into a different perspective and just "offer it up."

Growing up, my mom often told us that when times seemed really hard, one of our options was to "offer it up" for someone or something else. As in offering up our own pain to God (essentially just "dealing" with it) for the sake of a suffering friend, the unborn children in this world, a special intention, or so on. It may not have always been easy, but there is a power in the human brain that allows us to focus our energy away from our own trials when focusing on prayer for another's tribulation. So it usually worked, and it's a phrase I've heard myself and both of my sisters mention in our adulthood.

I didn't need to look far in "offering it up" last night.

First off, my baby boy turned three weeks old on Monday, and that day it dawned on me that he'd officially lived for one day longer than my friend Lori's baby Sofia (for whom I requested prayers back in February). Lori and her husband, while they'd never brought a baby home before and probably didn't know all the mess and emotion they were in store for, anticipated their daughter's arrival with joy and excitement. When a labor-and-delivery complication cut off Sofie's air supply and left her in a vegetative state (for lack of a better term), they prayed with all their might that some miracle could happen and reverse the effects of the disastrous delivery. They stayed in the hospital for 20 days (Lori literally never left it, and I'm not sure if Mike did either) and watched their still little daughter with all the love and determination they could muster. When they brought her home to let her pass peacefully surrounded by the love (and nursery) they had prepared for her there, they were able to experience what was probably the most beautiful but excruciating event any parent ever could imagine. Since that day, Lori's online posts reflect a lot of pain, a lot of slow healing, and a lot of honesty. And while she hasn't had to deal with chapped breasts, or been drained by a baby waking up all night long, or tried to juggle a toddler and an infant at the same time , or worried about what a particular cry might indicate, I know that she'd trade her situation for all of the new mother woes in the universe. So I offer my pain up for Lori.

I also found out last night that my cousin Justin will soon be deployed to Afghanistan, leaving his wife, their 20-month-old son Jackson and their 3-week-old son Griffin (born just three days after Finlay) in their housing in Germany. I cried last night for Justin and the boys, but mostly for Ali, who will too soon be handling single-parenthood while also worrying about her husband's well-being. I told Tee Jay that for all the head- and neck- and stomach-aches in the world, I cannot imagine his leaving me in another country to take care of both kids and fend for myself. I absolutely don't think that I am a strong enough person to do it, and I wonder where Ali will get her strength. So I offer up my pain for her, too, hoping that by doing so, a little bit of the courage she'll need is coming from my prayers.

I guess it's all about perspective... and I think I'm finally ready to embrace my new one and learn to enjoy all the blessings I have, no matter if my head is pounding or not.