I'm hoping this will be a much easier bike than I have had to ride in the past. When Theo was born, I was nineteen, fresh off the marriage boat, living in my in-laws' basement, and though I didn't know it I was struggling with depression and anxiety. Our possessions were basically second-hand baby clothes, one year's tuition for a journalism program I would no longer be attending and whatever generous people had given us for wedding gifts. I remember one night, in between HGTV marathons and breastfeeding, crying my eyes out while kissing Theo's little nose and telling him it was going to be ok. I could do this, even though I had no idea what that was going to mean. It turns out that it meant moving into a sketchy teeny first apartment and eating a lot of chocolate Costco muffins and chicken drumsticks because I was still learning to really cook. We would cuddle on the couch to the smells of the neighbours' pot haven across the hall. Life was frustrating but somehow it was ok. Theo was a sweetheart of a baby and made things really easy for us. We were totally in love with our wild-haired little boy.
We found out we were pregnant with Lu pretty quickly - read: Theo was still five months old. At the same time, Matt had been looking for a company to start his plumbing apprenticeship with but it was the recession and nobody was hiring. Friends of ours in Edmonton put him in touch with a neighbour and next thing we knew, we had leapt at a job offer and we were moving. When we told our parents all of that news at once, there was some happy talk but also some speculation that we had really hopped on the train to the town of cray. Looking back, I can completely understand the mixed reactions but at the time, I was feeling a little lonely staying at home with my tiny baby so I figured one more would really liven things up. I had friends in Edmonton, we wouldn't be there forever, it would be ok.
Fast-forward to another terrible apartment in one of the sketchiest parts of Edmonton, where I would spend my entire day alone because we only had one car. Still, I tried to make it as pretty as possible in that small small space and to fill the long days for Theo and me. After experiencing what I thought was gas turned oh-yeah-those-are-definitely-contractions and an almost car crash, beautiful Tallulah was born. Lu had reflux which meant the poor girl was in pain and cried alot. Feeding her was challenging. Actually, doing anything was challenging because she had to be on me at all times. My mom came to stay and help for a few days and when it was time for her to leave, I was more than a tad worried about how I was going to handle a 14 month old and a newborn. I remember making it through the first day on my own and going, I can do this. I can really do this. I have to wash my newborn's clothes at the laundromat but I can do this.
Matt ended up getting an even better job offer soon after and we moved into a much nicer neighbourhood, in a townhouse with quite a bit of space, an area for the kids to run around outside, and - thank God - a washer and dryer. I got a job at a gym down the road in the childcare department which really helped break up the still lonely and still long days. Matt would go to work before the sun came up and would often be gone until after dinner. We were both exhausted and, without our parents around, we didn't really get a break. Still, I loved being a mom and I tried really really hard. I learned about healthy eating and my cooking slowly improved. We sang and we read and made faces at each other, like good moms and babies do. I tried to be patient and I tried not to yell. I told them I loved them and kissed their sweet faces multiple times a day. Still, nothing I did was perfect enough to please myself and the depression and anxiety steadily got worse. Life got nearly impossible then but that's a story for another day. The point is, things were much much harder then than they are now and my first two experiences of babyhood were a complete whirlwind. Sometimes, I wish life had been easier then so that I could enjoy what fleeting time I had while my babies were small, but I know I did the best I could with what had been thrown at me. In the end, I suppose that's all any mother can say.
At one point, I had hoped that my third baby could be sort of a do-over. A chance to have that perfect mom experience. We have our own home now, we live close to the support of our parents, we have a washer and dryer and even a dishwasher, and I'm better. You know what? It's still not going to be perfect and that's ok because perfect is not real life. I'm going to the enjoy the crap out of this baby, even if it still has to ride around in some clunky cheap stroller, wearing some hand-me-downs from its siblings. I might be a bit scared of doing this again and it might be hard. Hopefully, things will never be as hard as they once were but I know that I can do scary and I can do hard. All I really have to remember about a baby is that cliche old ladies say on repeat about how fast it goes because it's true. You have to enjoy those speeding moments that you get because they aren't ever going to slow down. No matter where you're at or how your life is packaged, this is it. And most of the time, it's pretty wonderful.
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