Noah is nearly 6 months, and I still remember very clearly the first few weeks of his arrival.
It was hell, as clear as that.
The recovery post caesarean was straightforward, but my emotional state was not.
It was hard, it was crazy hard. I'm not entirely sure what exactly the hard part was, but everything seemed to be a blur of who's-doing-what, the baby needed changing, God knows why he cried, a whole lot of he just wouldn't sleep, and my favourite of all, I'm so exhausted.
You could argue that men aren't psychic. Their empathetic system isn't designed to be as automatic as most women's. The result, we have a creature whose innate nature isn't of "oh, I see that x happens, therefore I must y". It's more of a "you tell me when x happens so that I could y".
x = house chores
y = needs doing
Where x could be anything from piling laundry, messy toys, dishes in the sink, etc.
So men (I doubt I have many Mars readers here), when you see something not in place, e.g. laundry piling up overflowing the basket, just freaking throw them in the wash. You don't need your wife telling you, "Ooh hubby dearest, look, the laundry basket is full of dirty clothes, what about you help putting them in the wash?"
Maybe you Mars people expect this instead, "Honey, could you please do the laundry?"
Yes, we can definitely say the above. One sentence, job done. But where's the fun in marriage if that's always the case?
And don't get me started on who's doing what, as far as baby is concerned.
Granted, you don't have boobs (well, you do, just not very functional), but there's always other things. Babies don't just need milk. They need all sort of simple things like cuddles, playtimes, nappy changes, little human transporters, butt patters, everything that doesn't require boobs! More things baby-wise that don't involve boobs include their laundry (little clothes need special washing), toy-cleaning, and snot towel changing, to name a few.
And the most exhausting (yet so very noble!) thing about caring for a baby is.. You're doing everything for the little human. Sparing nothing for you. Yes, going to work 9-5pm, getting stuck in the traffic is hard, but you get lunch breaks, you get to choose your own food, when and where to eat them, heck, you get to talk to another being while eating them!
With a baby.. There's just not much options. You'd probably have better luck in negotiating with your bladder to increase its holding capacity rather than explaining to a little human dictator on why you need to disappear for 2 minutes as the nature calls.
Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother. It's so unbelievably.. Weird. One minute I was so eager for him to shut his eyes (yay me time!) and the next, I was getting pure joy of pulling silly faces as his eyes wide open and his mouth forming a big O shape, wondering why is this human transporter making all sort of funny sounds. And yes, the excitement of a poop explosion after a week of nothingness from their rear ends, sans the very smelly farts. Come on, who rejoice on poops on pees?
People always talk about motherhood, maybe it's time to start discussing fatherhood too?
It's called parenting, btw. Not just mothering.