Facebook, You Are Being Difficult

Facebook has become difficult. Now I don't want you to think I'm whining and blaming Facebook, because I realize it is a free service and I am under no obligation to even visit it. But we all know that Facebook is like bad Halloween candy. We don't really like it, but we mindlessly snarf it down because we're bored. But I digress; I was talking about the difficulty.

What's difficult about Facebook? I mean, don't I just scroll through and read things like, "Look at what I ate for dinner!" and "See my hot new boyfriend?" Well, sure. I do that. But there's more.

For starters, now Facebook has an option where people can add me to a group unbeknownst to me. I don't get added to cool groups, no, I get added to groups that try to sell me things. These groups claim to be "parties." Now, I've been to some lame parties, and I've even been to some lame parties where people tried to sell me things, but these groups are nothing like parties. If there was food, I would probably play along, but there's not even a cheese puff. The party consists of chatting with a representative for press-on lip gloss, and allowing her to clutter up my news feed for days.

What else is difficult about Facebook? The shared photos with slogans about vaccinations, child car seats, and 9 fashion mistakes to avoid. These make me grumpy because they're only there for shock value. There's no real conversation, no exchange of ideas. Nowhere do I see anyone saying, "That's a really good point. You've given me something to think about." It's more like, "You're an imbecile for the way you think, act, and believe!" And yes, I realize the internet is chock full of strangers calling my ideas idiotic, but these are my friends! I have two choices, ignore the bait, or respond and throw cold water on a perfectly good friendship.

Is that all? Oh, no, that's not all. Another difficulty is the emotional bruising I get when I read my news feed. Here's my internal conversation: "Who's that with Susan? That's not her husband! Did they get a divorce?" (Quickly check profile page.) "Hmm, guess they did. How sad. Oh, here's Lucy with another pitiful lonely status. Either she has no self-confidence or her boyfriend's a jerk! Here's a prayer request from Amber. Oh, how terrible! I can't believe so many bad things happened to her. Yikes! Who's that? Oh, it's a kid with cancer. I don't know him, but I feel bad him anyway." Sure, I might have encountered all this emotionally wrenching information without Facebook, but probably not all of it at once and not in so much detail. It's definitely a problem for a softie like me.

So why don't I quit Facebook? I could quit cold turkey! I could put the elephant in the room out of the room. Why don't I? Well, I might miss something.

A Baby Changes Everything - Even My Heart

I would love to update my blog more, and I would if I could type one-handed. You know, a baby changes everything.

Outwardly, the changes are apparent. My body has changed, my schedule has changed, my eating habits have changed, and my internet searches have changed.

But inwardly, I think the changes have been even more drastic. Let's talk about life before baby. My plan was to birth him at home, where I would joyfully bring him into the world in a birthing pool, after which he would sweetly nurse, and life would be as awesome as chocolate cream pie. I had (negative) opinions about hospital births, formula, and pretty much anything else that I wasn't planning to do. Pretty much, I was a jerk.

After a smooth pregnancy, I found birth to be drastically different than I had anticipated. My labor was slow, painful, and persistent. However, after three days of labor, my baby still had not made his appearance, and my midwives sent me to the hospital.

In pain, exhausted, and tense, I opted for several medical interventions. First, I had an epidural, and it felt amazing to be relieved from the painful contractions! I needed fluids, and of course a pitocin drip to help speed things along. My baby was born in a few short hours, not the way I previously wanted, but the way that I chose based on my situation.

Nursing also started off badly from the beginning. My baby was unable to transfer milk. I pumped and spoon fed him colostrum in the hospital. The next few weeks were a blur of marathon nursing sessions, nipple shields, tongue and lip tie revision, pumping, supplemental nursing systems, suck training, bottles, and frustration! He was not gaining weight well, and both of us were unhappy with nursing.

We "nursed" for three months. And I put nursing in quotes because I supplemented almost the whole time using an SNS or bottles. One day I watched how quickly and how well he drank milk from a bottle, and how satisfied he was afterward. Then, tearfully, I decided that nursing was just not right for us, and I switched to pumping and bottle-feeding. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what seemed right for our situation.

Through this journey I have chosen many things that I would previously have rejected outright. I have chosen to do things that I told myself I would never do. I have chosen things that I looked down on others for choosing. I have chosen things that I thought were ridiculous. And even those things that I did not choose to do, I was brought to the point where I understood why a reasonable parent would choose to do it.

And so I have changed inwardly. So much inside that was critical and judgmental was chopped away, and replaced with empathy and understanding. I won't say that my pride has been destroyed; I know myself too well for that, but I will say that my pride took a big hit. And it has been so GOOD for me.

I was discussing all of this with my sister recently. I said, "I think I have had so many problems with my baby because I'm a big jerk." She answered, "I don't believe that God makes bad things happen to people to punish them." I replied, "I agree! I don't think he was punishing me for being a big jerk. I think he was teaching me to be different. It wasn't a punishment; it was a lesson."

A baby does indeed change everything. In my case, it changed me for the better.

He's only five months old. I'm sure there are more lessons to come.