We came home from the hospital June 29th 2013 [my husbands birthday], and that's when it started to settle in that I was now responsible for a helpless tiny human. My mind exploded and the nerves set in right as my family left. I couldn't understand why anyone thought I was responsible enough to take care of a baby. The first few hours were the worst. We referred back to the books several times. Is he limp? Is he to warm? What's the room temp? When did he eat last? It was like our first day all over again, yet we've been doing it for days now. Just so you know; when at the hospital he did not leave our side. So it wasn't like the nurses did anything except bring me water and the delish ice chips.
We started a chart and alarm system. Wake up every 2 hours to feed and change the baby. We wrote it down; the times he ate, and how many wet/poopy diapers he had, on our white board. I started to get the hang of things, I say "I" because my husband was made to be a father. He had everything down. So calm and reassuring, it was nice. It wasn't till his first home bath, that I decided it was probably okay to just use a wipe to wash them down. Bathing him was the most terrifying moment thus far of my entire life. It was so terrifying that we kind of cheated. We laid 2 folded towels on the floor, placed 'oh so gentle my little bear; we had 2 bowls filled with water, one soapy and one clean. The mess afterwards was ridiculous, but it worked for us.
As time past the "baby blues" hit me hard, Might have even been PPD. I felt so useless as a mother, like I was failing him. I had a cesarean which was not planned; which made me feel like less of a woman because I couldn't birth him naturally. I had Pitocin which I was completely opposed too, and to top it off I struggled with my milk supply; which got me the most. I was so set on breastfeeding, the thought of giving my baby formula made me cry, literally cry. I have no idea why this one thing effected me so much but it did for months. 
A few months had past and I got out of my funk. I accepted that my birth plan didn't go as I had planned but I did still give birth to a healthy, beautiful baby boy; which is what truly mattered. I got over my breastfeeding struggles, and took it as a learning lesson. Becoming a mother changed me in ways I couldn't ever imagine. I didn't know I would get so excited about a "baby roll" or a burp without any spit up. Or how I mentally associate ever child on tv with mine. Am I the only one who does that? As the months went on I started to understand my baby in ways I never knew were humanly possible. He didn't have to cry for me to know what he needed. It was just a look he would give me. I knew the difference between "I'm hungry" from a "I want to be cuddled right now" or "change me now woman". I knew the look; it was something so special, and it was and still is amazing that I had created a bond with someone so strong that he didn't need to voice his needs {mainly because he couldn't talk}. Only other parents [mothers] will understand what I mean.
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