If you would have asked me about pre-conceived ideas before the baby was born, I'd have told you what kind of Mom I would be. I would be able to let my baby cry for longer than a minute. I would be able to put him down, let him cry, and accomplish things around the house. I would be immune to lack of sleep. I've done shift work. I would be strong enough to do it all with the Husband on courses for 3 weeks of Isaiah's first 5 weeks of life. I'd do it gladly. After all, I/we wanted a baby. We would establish a routine, both caring and involved in our infant's life. I'd still socialize and keep up with my un-babied friends.
Truth is, I can't do any of those things. There is only so much I can take on a couple of hours of sleep. Sometimes I hold my baby while he's crying and I cry too. Sometimes I feel jealous that the Husband can spend his evenings out with no concern about whether or not his baby is being taken care of properly while I stay home and feed, comfort, nurture our baby. Sometimes I don't have my teeth brushed or real clothes on by 4 pm. Some days all I never get a chance to make myself a real meal. Leaving the house is a huge ordeal. He hates his carseat and barely tolerates car rides. I am NOT cut out to be a single parent.
Then some days it all works. We sleep well. He doesn't struggle with tummy aches and enjoys laying on the couch and looking at things. He sits in his bouncy chair. I accomplish things. I shower, eat, and tidy. I might even prep a meal. Things flow and I figure I've got a handle on things.
The new normal, it turns out, is no kind of normal at all.