I don't know when the mommy light clicked on for me. The minute I truly realized that I was someone's mom. In fact, some days that light is so dim I barely notice it. There are days when Lando is happy and there are plenty of people to entertain him, where my maternal duties are just the ordinary ones that I forget to notice. There are also harder days, days where every hour is another reminder of the exhausting responsibility I carry.
When they put my burrito of a newborn on my chest, I was terrified. Petrified. If I had been able to run, I just might have. If there had been a put baby back inside for a day button I might have selected it. There was no such button and I couldn't run (downside of a C section), so I went through the motions.
And I kept on going through the motions. Feed baby. Change baby. Feed, feed, feed, feed baby. Let baby sleep on me as I did homework. More feeding, more sleeping, another change. I had the motions down, and the motions were easy.
When they put my burrito of a newborn on my chest, I was terrified. Petrified. If I had been able to run, I just might have. If there had been a put baby back inside for a day button I might have selected it. There was no such button and I couldn't run (downside of a C section), so I went through the motions.
And I kept on going through the motions. Feed baby. Change baby. Feed, feed, feed, feed baby. Let baby sleep on me as I did homework. More feeding, more sleeping, another change. I had the motions down, and the motions were easy.
48 hours out
Lando's pediatrician told me I was the calmest first time mother she'd ever seen, as I sat in the exam room and nursed my six day old. Inside, though, I fully expected to make a life-altering mistake once every hour. I write that now because I can. It's natural to be that scared and ridiculous six days after you've had a child, when your primary focus is keeping that child alive.
I'm not a natural at motherhood because, like most humans, I like sleeping, eating hot food, and putting on pants without someone demanding I hold him simultaneously. A person can't be a natural at that. Motherhood is hard.
It's hard that first day when you go from painfully pregnant to holding a brand new human in your arms and you realize the roller coaster your body just endured.
It's hard that first week when that brand new human has to go from being nourished by placenta to being nourished by a breast or bottle and you don't get to sleep.
It's hard that first month when that new baby just wants to sleep and eat and sometimes scream, but he doesn't know what time of day to do what. And you don't get to sleep.
It's hard at nine months when that baby isn't sleeping through the night and is still eating through the night. And again, you don't get to sleep.
It's hard at one year when you realize that parenting involves more than offering the breast to a cranky baby. (Best method ever. Highly recommend.)
I had more to say, but this is long and Lando is now awake from one of his uber short naps. But know this, women my age, older, and younger who haven't held their first babies yet: motherhood is hard.
Motherhood is the continuous giving and denying of yourself for a tiny, demanding human. I wasn't a natural at that---most women aren't. But if you love that baby, you'll be a good mama. And in return, you'll find the craziest, most exhausting love in the world.
NAILED it.😘
ReplyDelete