Saint Monica, 2.0
Nick and I never fight. I could lie and tell you it’s because we’re totally in sync on every decision. But really, it’s because I’m married to the next patron saint of patience. And I think that over time his patience has ever so slightly rubbed off on to me.
Sure, I get irritated when he leaves the dirty diaper on top of the diaper pail [every day]. But instead of picking fights, I think it’s way more appropriate to handle these things with overt passive aggressivity humor. Take today: Nick ruffled my feathers. Instead of bickering, I made my absolute favorite sandwich for my lunch – canned tuna with mayonnaise on white bread. Think that’s gross? Nick does too. He can’t stand it, sight or smell. Out of loving courtesy, I never make it when he’s home. Unless I’m pissed off. Nick cracked up when he saw what I brought to the table. We smiled at each other, I ate my food quickly, and that was the end of it.
I know with certainly that Nick gets even more frequently irritated with me. I’m much less saintly. I’m also 16 months postpartum and STILL breastfeeding so my hormones are whack, off their rocker, three sheets to the wind. I simply cannot imagine that I’m an enjoyable person to be around right now. Nick must wake up each day wondering which of his 17 wives is going to roll out of bed on the other side. Am I going to sleep until 9 AM and still be tired? Will I be irritated by the sound of his breathing? Will I have the energy of 1,000 suns and scrub every floor in the house because it sounded like a fun activity? Will I forget what day of the week it is? Eat 5,000 calories and still be hungry? Be completely head over heels enamored by anything Nick does? Who knows?! I for sure don’t have a clue.
It has to be so stinking exhausting to be married to me in this baby-rearing stage of life.
When Zary was born I had no intention of breastfeeding. But Nick loved the science of it, and being the engineer he is, basically made me a PowerPoint on why we should try it. I love him and his fact-based- opinions, so I said I’d do it for three months. Turns out I loved the science of it too! A whopping year and a half later my boobs were finally dry again. When the postpartum head fog lifted in the weeks following, I realized how “off” I had felt, mind and body, during that time of extended breastfeeding. Nick agreed and was so happy to have me feeling back to normal.
When Mina came around, Nick lovingly suggested that if I wasn’t down for nursing again, we could go pure formula from the get-go. This time it was my choice to breastfeed. I figured I could put in six months and wean before my hormones spiraled. Right to plan, because I’m super organized and good at meeting deadlines high strung, Mina was nursing just once a day when she turned six months old. But unfortunately, I couldn’t find her favorite baby formula on the shelves. Or any formula. The formula crisis of 2022 forced me to drive my milk supply from 10% to 100% seemingly overnight. The hormonal boomerang hit even harder that time around, with my first and only bout of postpartum depression roaring in nine months after Mina’s birth. The fatigue and mood swings were so aggressive that I blacked out entire weeks with Mina as a baby.
We felt SO prepared when we found out we were pregnant with Maisy. Extended breastfeeding was obviously a trigger for the hormone swings that left me so out of it, so we built a rock-solid game plan. Introduce formula day one. Breastfeed and formula feed in combination. Wean by six months. Hole in one. Let’s do this.
And when Maisy started to wean?
Howdy, food allergies!
Our allergist explained to us that Maisy had an underlying milk allergy that hadn’t been aggravated by an ounce or two of formula mixed in to her breastmilk, but it raged out of control when she had a full bottle. Baby formula was out. Three weeks later we were back in her office to confirm an egg allergy, and then a nut allergy shortly after that. I remember the allergist nonchalantly saying “it’s so good you have a great milk supply! The best thing for her health would be to just nurse Maisy until she’s 18 – 24 months old”.
I think God does such incredible work readying us for future challenges. Had I not nursed Zary for 18 months, I never would have decided to breastfeed with Mina. If I had never breastfed Mina, I would have been crippled by the anxiety of how to feed my infant during the formula crisis. If I hadn’t experienced that horrible rebound of hormones with Mina, I never would have been prepared for what it might look like (and feel like) to nurse Maisy to two years old.
And here we are, prepared, and executing well in the challenge God was readying us for. For sure, this cannot be easy for Nick. It’s definitely not easy for me. I can’t predict how I’m going to wake up each day or honestly even explain what I feel like. This week I texted Nick: “my body feels like I’m going to cry, but I’m happy? Like, I don’t need to cry, but my body tingles like I’m about to? I’m so confused. Also, I’m trying to put Maisy down to nap. Mina won’t stop yelling at me to hurry and come look at a manta ray on the TV. She’s so cute and unaware!” Come on woman, stay focused! Nick always just laughs, empathizes, and tells me he loves me.
I’m so grateful that during this third [endless] postpartum, Nick and I are able to brush off the whirlwind these hormones are causing. Too anxious to function? Give it 30 minutes it’ll probably go away. Too tired to fold laundry? No worries, I’ll have more energy than there are jobs in the house soon. Nick is existing too loudly and the kids are saying too many words? Just wait. When it’s bedtime I’ll be the one delaying because I miss them when they’re asleep. The tailspin is real, y’all.
God does such a beautiful job preparing us for our trials. And He gives us such perfect teammates. I’m so thankful that my teammate could teach a master class in patience. He needs all he can to juggle the sister-wives-esque debacle I’m single-handedly providing each day.
Also, thought you should know… I wrote most of this at 11 PM last night because I had too much energy and didn’t know what to do with myself, and then I finished it up in the Pick’n’Save parking lot this morning because I couldn’t stand being around another human for one more minute at home. I’m super fun right now!