Dear Daughter,
This is where I fall flat. You are almost six months old and I am struggling. To this point my letters have mostly been encouraging and upbeat.I am writing to you now from an unhappy place, not to chastise you for your behavior as a baby, but to speak a necessary truth about a difficult time.
This is a growth spurt. It will pass. This does not make it any easier. And while I find resolve in this knowledge I do not find much happiness or joy. I can sniff your head and kiss you and hold you tight and smile at your smiles and do all those happy things, which work for moments at a time.
I am scraped empty, picked clean, and am maxing out my coping mechanisms.
I’m not “at the end of the line”. I’m not quitting. I clearly understand what is happening now as I pass through this.
A marathon runner does not feel the same five miles from the finish as she does at the start. A marathon runner does not feel the same five miles from the finish as she does with one mile left to go. I’m at the point where I’m a ways from the finish line so I don’t have that last burst of energy that takes me there. I’m at the point where I’ve run so far already that I’m struggling through each step and questioning whether I can do it, even though this is the third six-month growth spurt marathon that I have gone through.
It is not as hard as my first. It is not as easy as my second, who daddy could soothe. You need only me, will accept only me, and this comes with its own challenges.
With you, I want desperately to be upbeat, to be strong, to be able to do it all. But with you, I desperately need to hear “good job”, “I admire how well you’re coping.”, “thank you for what you are giving her”, “I love you”, “You’re doing great”. I need those cheery people at the sidelines with the big signs saying “YAY!”
I don’t need for anyone to fix it. I don’t need for someone to bottle feed you. While it would be nice if you were able to take a bottle once in a while, I understand that you can’t and that’s okay. While it would be nice if your father could rock you to sleep I don’t need that because I understand that it is not something that you’re able to do right now. This is your temperament. A very sweet mild child with very specific needs.
I need encouragement.
That is what is sadly lacking at six months. In the early days everyone is your cheerleader. Everyone tries. Everyone supports you. You haven’t burned out yet. Then you hit six months and people have decided that it’s throw-up-their-hands time and you’re in it alone. And when you’re struggling and they don’t know what to do, there’s a tendency to wander off and avoid you with happier things.
I’m writing this to you so that if you hit this place you know that you’re not alone. Other mothers go through this too. It’s not a problem with you. It’s your individual baby’s temperament. And it’s how people manage things that seem unfixable.
You are not a “bad” baby. You’re a growing baby, and this is what you need to grow right now.
If you need to know what will help you if you pass through this, it’s this: “If you can’t comfort the baby, comfort the mother as she comforts the baby.” That is what I need to keep on going, even though I’ll keep on going either way.
No one can run this marathon for us. But that doesn’t mean that we’re running alone. I just need to muster up the words “please run with me”. And I need to understand that they’re okay to say.
And I want for you, in your future, to know that it is not a weakness to have a need.
I will always run with you, just as I run with you now.
❤ Mama
Nurshable 
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