Y/N
"Hey mommy, can I get a snack?" Matthew asked. I nodded my head as I looked away from Ilia who I was feeding.
Matthew ran, grabbed his snack, and sat down next to me.
He always wanted to be near to me since I had Ilia and it was honestly kind of cute.
Noelle was only four days old and things were calming down. I was still dealing with the stress of managing time with each of my babies while going back and forth between here and the hospital for Isaiah.
Michael and I are so busy we barely have any time for ourselves. We're trying to make time and not be so stressed, but it's been hard.
I felt so tried and drained, every kid had a different schedule. But, I would do anything for my kids.
"Breakfast is ready!" Michael announced. Matthew ran to the kitchen and Mariah followed behind.
I slowly got up and walked my weak body over to the table with Ilia.
I finally got to eat a meal. But then, Ilia started to cry. "I'll be right back," I got up and left the table.
I took her upstairs, changed her, bounced her, soothed her, swaddled her, and even tried to feed her again. But, she continued to cry.
I couldn't anymore, I was holding it in. I put her down, went into the bathroom and sobbed.
Why didn't I love her as much as I should? Why was everything so hard? Am I just making a big deal?
I sat there and cried for thirty minutes before Michael opened the door.
"Yo, what is going on?" he asked me. "I can't Michael, everything is just so hard. The baby and I aren't even bonding and she already hates me. I think I might be crazy, but I think I have postpartum depression. You don't think I'm a bad mom, do you?" I blurted out all at once.
Michael put his hand on my shoulder, "You are not a bad mom, you are not crazy, we're gonna get through this. As long as she's fed, changed, and swaddled we're good," he reassured me. I nodded my head and came out of the bathroom where Ilia was still crying.
"I got her for now, but in an hour I'll give her back. If you ever feel overwhelmed don't be scared to give her to me while you do something," he said.
"Okay," I answered leniently. "How did you manage this for four days without saying anything?" he asked.
"I just thought it would get better but it just hasn't and today I reached my breaking point," I explained.
"Well, I'm glad we talked this out," he picked Ilia up and bounced her. She stopped crying straight away, once again.
I took this time to finally take a warm shower and eat some food. By the time I was done, Ilia was back in my arms.
I stared at her little features. She was looking straight back at me. Nothing was happening, she just continued to stare.
"Hi, I know you probably don't understand, but I'm your mom. I'm not a perfect one, I get upset, I yell sometimes, but I try my best. You have three siblings and I love them just like I love you, I know we're adjusting a little slower, but that's okay. It will just take time," by the end of the speech she was still staring at me.
"You're so beautiful," I told her. Not too much later, I had to feed her.
I fed her quickly, swaddled her, and put her in her bassinet. She did fuss, but she didn't cry.
"Look at you," Michael said from the door. "That was better than last time," I said.
"Maybe you should sing to her," Michael suggested. "I don't know, we'll see," I said. It was a good suggestion, maybe I'd try it.
