This past year or so has been really challenging... I have tried to move this blog away from being very personal, since as a mom to 6 kids, I can only imagine how hard it is for a woman who's trying to conceive to feel as if she has anything in common with me.
Sure, I've been there. 3 years of useless waiting, trying and testing; 6 IVFs, including a frozen cycle. Miscarriages with ongoing pregnancy (twice). Late miscarriage (once). But it's the end result that counts and I ended up with 3 healthy IVF kids - much more than most women starting out on their infertility journey even let themselves dream of...
So I haven't blogged (or not much, at least) about all the sleepless nights (last night we were up at least 5x between 12:30 and 6) and about the difficulty of being a work-from-home-mom with a baby, doing freelance work on tight schedules. I haven't mentioned how much I detest tripping on toys and how sometimes I wonder why I got myself into all of this when what I really love is peace and quiet. And time to do things that I want to do.
I'm guessing it's a conflict that many (most?) mothers have. I love my kids. I enjoy certain things - watching them learn new things, reading them stories, talking to them, taking them places (when they can behave nicely), hugging and playing with them... but then there are the things I hate. I hate the mess. I hate the screaming and whining. I hate when kids hit or bite me. I hate when the kids fight. I hate waking up in the middle of the night for kids who are already old enough to sleep through the night. I hate the evening rush of feeding the kids, bathing them, brushing their teeth and trying to get them to stay in their beds. Sometimes I'd just like to have a quiet evening without anyone screaming, crying, whining, biting or fighting. Without having to sweep the floor to get up all the little pieces of peas, tomatoes and rice that are stuck to it. I'd like to sleep in and not feel guilty for letting Ohad wake up for the kids yet again. He'd like to sleep in too.
I try to remind myself to enjoy this time that they're small. And I do, but it's them I enjoy, not this time in my life. There are so many things I feel like I want to do, but can't... and it's frustrating. I can't help but look forward to a time when I'll be able to do more things that will give me a sense of accomplishment.
Ohad and I keep reassuring ourselves, "OK, a year from now some things will be easier." Yirmi will be able to go up the stairs reliably. He won't be putting things in his mouth anymore. He'll start walking (meaning I won't have to walk around carrying him so much). Maybe we'll even be able to leave the little kids with a babysitter - when they're awake - and actually spend some time together before 11pm.
And then I was reading blogs written by people who have real issues... Sick children who require constant care. Babies that don't always survive... and it seems so insignificant to have to listen to 3 hours of screaming in the afternoon. I can even sit there and think that it's far from the worst thing that could happen, but it doesn't make me enjoy it.
Having done this once before (been a mom to 3 little kids), I know it gets better and it gets easier. I enjoy seeing how nicely the older ones (15-1/2 & twins almost 13) are growing and how they are becoming increasingly independent. I love that they can actually help (not that they like to, but they do, on occasion). The little kids(4, 3 & 1) still need one of us to be with them every waking moment. Getting a break from that once in a while, at a time during which I don't need to work, would be a good thing.
It's not 11am yet and I'm falling asleep on the keyboard. Yirmi's sleeping and Nomi's sick (and sleeping) on the couch.
I guess it's time for some coffee and then back to work.
p.s. I really do love my kids and I feel incredibly fortunate to have them, I just think that the amount of time and effort required for being a father or mother is often misrepresented, even by most parents.