Saturday, December 5, 2015

Lost in Mr. Roger's Motherhood

Welcome to the Motherhood, where everyday there are drive-by spit-ups, diaper blowouts, mysterious and seemingly perpetual wet spots on all pieces of clothing, and someone screaming in your face like a drill sergeant at all hours of the day.  Where you forget to eat and now you don't have time, or you remembered to make yourself food but still don't have time to eat it and now it's cold. But, it's not all bad, and although you smell like sour cream because you haven't had time to shower in 4 days, this baby is so cute you want to chew on it.  The smiles make you want to melt and you keep trying to find ways to get the baby to smile over and over.

Would you be mine,
could you be mine,
won't you be my Nanny...

Throughout my life, I was never sure I wanted to get married or have any children.  Spoiler Alert!! I am both married and a new mom.  In November 2013 I discovered I was pregnant and began to wrap my head around being someones mom but by March 2014 we lost that pregnancy.  It was after that loss that I realized that yes, I did want children.  We didn't start trying again until the fall of 2014 and by the middle of November I was pregnant again.  This time however we said nothing to anyone, we barely acknowledged the pregnancy ourselves; fear would not let me attach to the idea.  Months passed and with each test and appointment we were reassured that everything was going great!!  So there it was, I was going to be a mom, now it was time to figure out what that meant for me.

My worst fear in becoming a mom was to lose myself or my marriage not to mention fucking up another human being.  I didn't want to identify only as someones mom, I wanted to keep myself too.  It started on the morning of July 22nd, 2015.  I woke up at 4:30am with a strange feeling, wondering if I was in labor, by 8am I was pretty sure that I was in labor.  We got to the hospital at 9:15am and Adaliah was born at 10:49am.  It was a whirlwind labor, terrifying and painful.  By the end of it all, I was overwhelmed, exhausted and embarrassed.  Screaming throughout the delivery process, I apologized between each contraction, needing reassurance that it was okay, that I wasn't weak.  I have always thought of myself as someone who was strong, someone who could withstand all types of pain, but I had SCREAMED because that shit hurt!!  Moments after she was born I had a rush of embarrassment and maybe a little P.T.S.D; why did women have more than one kid, how did anyone withstand that more than once?

Within moments, I was beginning my trip into the Motherhood.  It started out fine at first.  She was placed on my belly and within moments she wiggled her way up and began nursing.  After all we had heard, we knew we were lucky, this worked out without any problems.  She nursed very well from the very beginning.  Okay, so I had one major thing down, I could feed my kid.  The first few days at the hospital were about making sure she and I were healthy.  My body hurt like hell, but I felt good, everything was new and strange and there were people taking care of me.  The first few days at home were great, she slept for 3 hours several times and we were excited to be new parents.  Then she started to cluster feed.  With no point of reference, I had no idea what was going on.  She needed to eat every 20 minutes for 12 hours straight.  This was the beginning of my self doubt, anxiety, shame spiral.  Frantically, I searched the internet via my phone looking for answers.  Was I doing something wrong, was this feeding thing not really working?  An answer was quickly found, she was building her milk supply.  But, it was too late, I had woken up a monster of self loathing, self doubt and worthlessness in myself.  Not to mention, we weren't at the hospital anymore, there was no nurses and doctors to worry about and take care of me. Even though my husband was feeding and fussing over me, I started to feel alone.

For the next few months, that monster would periodically take over.  I would feel the urge to pull my hair out, jump out a window, hurt myself in someway.  It wasn't some joke that I used to cover up how crazy I was feeling, it was a real feeling.  When I'm not armed with information, when I don't know what is going on I immediately jump to self blame and doubt.  Holy shit, being a mom was hard and I was not equipped to handle it.  There was a job in front of me that I could not quit, and there were moments where I really wanted to.  My worst fear was coming to fruition, I was losing myself.  Where had I gone?  Where was the confidant woman who could handle anything life had thrown at her so far?

A new panic formed, not only was I bad at being a mom (something that so many others seem so good at that they even have more than one) but I had officially lost me.  For weeks, and then months I struggled through trying to work (which I am lucky to do from home) and navigate the mean streets of the motherhood.  This little amazing creature was a Rubix cube.  I would think I had solved one side only to find the rest of the cube a jumbled mess.  I have no idea what I'm doing...

Yesterday, I had a an amazing thought.  When you move to new neighborhood, it's often best to get yourself really lost in order to really learn all the roads, paths and shortcuts.  To find that little hidden restaurant or coffee shop you would never had found if you hadn't gotten lost.  The panic started to fade as I realized, I will eventually find my way home.  I will eventually find myself again and I will be different, stronger and no worse for the wear.  There is this amazing and beautiful creature, who now smiles at me most of the day instead of yelling and together with my husband we will navigate the sometimes treacherous streets of the Parenthood.


  1. This is super fabulous! And one thing I've known about you since you were a 13-year-old girl: you are more than enough.

  2. Sweet love, the road stays difficult with each season of childhood. We moms need to continue to talk and remember it's hard as shit and+ we're not alone, and somehow it makes it better. I have felt every one of those feelings!! Continue to focus on the good times and I promise I will too. (I'm currently writing this sitting in the grocery store parking lot "taking a break").

  3. I love this and I swear it gets better! The crazy women who seem to easily do it through two, yeah that shit ain't easy either. We just know that we survived the first time and are waiting for the dust to settle. Surviving one child through infancy gives you a crazy amount of confidence. Now that I have a second one I am constantly feeling like I overshot my abilities mote than a little. But every day we wake up and plod through again. The kids are alive so I must be doing something right, right?!