Thoughts on becoming a mother, one day at a time
I guess this will be my first official "mom blog." I became a mom on November 26, 2016 when my beautiful son, Simon, was born, just before midnight. It knocked my socks off in every sense of the word and I've sort of been scrambling to catch my breath since. There have been super highs and lows and I could write an entire blog about the sound of my baby's voice and the way his eyes light up when he smiles, but that is for another time. Today I'm asking some big questions.
I'm a mom now. (insert "mind being blown" emoji)!!!!!
What does it all mean? Who am I? How can I work and still be a mom? How can I have a social life as a mom? How can I have a sex life and still be a mom? So many impossible, cliche questions. And I am not one who has answers.
Becoming a mother when you are 35 is weird. I already thought I knew who I was. I had done all the soul searching required in my 20s, career hopped and landed in my 30s, got sober, got more comfortable being myself, fell in love with a man who liked me for who I was, etc. etc. I thought I knew my body, and even after years of disliking its roundness and changeable size, I had accepted it for what it was and basically moved on. I was comfortable with my roles in my family, my relationship and with friends (not all the time, but in general).
Not all new mothers can say this! Hell, if I had started this journey in my early or late 20s I would have been so used to being lost that adding a child to the mix may have actually served to ground me! But at 35, I'm finding myself feeling temporarily unmoored and a bit lost.
My guess is that most new parents experience various grades of an identity crisis. And really how important is your sense of your self when your main purpose in life is to keep another human alive? It's important. It's important to me.
Sometimes I find myself in a quiet moment, or up in the middle of the night after I've nursed Simon to sleep, just laying there wondering who's life I'm living. I'm overcome by this insane, almost primal love for a little baby that came out of my body, that I feed with my body, and yet my mind is still attached to old concepts of what my life was all about. I feel the need to create, to work, to sing, to engage with adults, to be irresponsible and selfish and gluttonous and lustful, and all the things that made me feel alive or human before I was a mother. But I do not know how to be that person anymore. I am living in pieces.
At this moment, four months after his birth, I still have not figured out how to bring my body and my mind back in touch with each other. It's as if the destiny of childbirth completely hijacked my body, and being a mother took it over after he was born. My arms naturally reach for him when he cries, my ears block out people's voices when he needs me, my breasts magically create just enough milk to feed him, and physical instincts instruct how to meet his needs in the moment. My body looks different, feels different, and has been through the indescribable pain and drama of childbirth. It will never be the same.
My mind, on the other hand, has different plans. It is doubting every move, judging my performance as a mother, planning career moves, researching trips I'll never take, looking at houses we will never buy, comparing my baby to other babies, guilting me for abandoning old or current commitments that I couldn't follow through with, instructing me to say yes to projects I would have done in the past but no longer have time for, desperately trying to hold on to old habits and activities and wishing I could have it all.
My mind is attached to it's old life, it's old self. My mind wants the freedom of a woman without a child. My body and heart have completely evolved into being a mother.
So how do I bridge the gap between my mind and my body after childbirth? How does a mom, who never ceases being a mom, continue to be herself in the other areas of her life?
I'm thinking the answer must be somewhere in the realm of the soul. Who are we really anyway, if not spirits wandering around the planet doing our best acts as humans? Maybe if I can find a way to let my true self into both areas of my life, the body and the mind, it will all start to feel a bit more true and a bit easier. Maybe I will evolve?
Maybe spirit can sew these weird pieces back together and create a new me?
That seems like a tall order. Allowing yourself as a new mother to just breathe, and know that there is no such thing as doing it perfectly seems important too. Expecting to become some sort of spiritual warrior is a bit far fetched when you are just trying to learn how to take a shower when your baby is sleeping or find a moment to use the toilet without him screaming
.
So how can I find the time to connect with spirit without feeling like I'm just adding another impossible task to my to-do list of things I will fail at? How can I become the new me? Mind, body & soul?
If you have any suggestions, I am open to them.
I am one new mother currently seeking a relationship with herself, her soul, and ultimately -- God.
I'm a mom now. (insert "mind being blown" emoji)!!!!!
What does it all mean? Who am I? How can I work and still be a mom? How can I have a social life as a mom? How can I have a sex life and still be a mom? So many impossible, cliche questions. And I am not one who has answers.
Becoming a mother when you are 35 is weird. I already thought I knew who I was. I had done all the soul searching required in my 20s, career hopped and landed in my 30s, got sober, got more comfortable being myself, fell in love with a man who liked me for who I was, etc. etc. I thought I knew my body, and even after years of disliking its roundness and changeable size, I had accepted it for what it was and basically moved on. I was comfortable with my roles in my family, my relationship and with friends (not all the time, but in general).
Not all new mothers can say this! Hell, if I had started this journey in my early or late 20s I would have been so used to being lost that adding a child to the mix may have actually served to ground me! But at 35, I'm finding myself feeling temporarily unmoored and a bit lost.
My guess is that most new parents experience various grades of an identity crisis. And really how important is your sense of your self when your main purpose in life is to keep another human alive? It's important. It's important to me.
Sometimes I find myself in a quiet moment, or up in the middle of the night after I've nursed Simon to sleep, just laying there wondering who's life I'm living. I'm overcome by this insane, almost primal love for a little baby that came out of my body, that I feed with my body, and yet my mind is still attached to old concepts of what my life was all about. I feel the need to create, to work, to sing, to engage with adults, to be irresponsible and selfish and gluttonous and lustful, and all the things that made me feel alive or human before I was a mother. But I do not know how to be that person anymore. I am living in pieces.
At this moment, four months after his birth, I still have not figured out how to bring my body and my mind back in touch with each other. It's as if the destiny of childbirth completely hijacked my body, and being a mother took it over after he was born. My arms naturally reach for him when he cries, my ears block out people's voices when he needs me, my breasts magically create just enough milk to feed him, and physical instincts instruct how to meet his needs in the moment. My body looks different, feels different, and has been through the indescribable pain and drama of childbirth. It will never be the same.
My mind, on the other hand, has different plans. It is doubting every move, judging my performance as a mother, planning career moves, researching trips I'll never take, looking at houses we will never buy, comparing my baby to other babies, guilting me for abandoning old or current commitments that I couldn't follow through with, instructing me to say yes to projects I would have done in the past but no longer have time for, desperately trying to hold on to old habits and activities and wishing I could have it all.
My mind is attached to it's old life, it's old self. My mind wants the freedom of a woman without a child. My body and heart have completely evolved into being a mother.
So how do I bridge the gap between my mind and my body after childbirth? How does a mom, who never ceases being a mom, continue to be herself in the other areas of her life?
I'm thinking the answer must be somewhere in the realm of the soul. Who are we really anyway, if not spirits wandering around the planet doing our best acts as humans? Maybe if I can find a way to let my true self into both areas of my life, the body and the mind, it will all start to feel a bit more true and a bit easier. Maybe I will evolve?
Maybe spirit can sew these weird pieces back together and create a new me?
That seems like a tall order. Allowing yourself as a new mother to just breathe, and know that there is no such thing as doing it perfectly seems important too. Expecting to become some sort of spiritual warrior is a bit far fetched when you are just trying to learn how to take a shower when your baby is sleeping or find a moment to use the toilet without him screaming
So how can I find the time to connect with spirit without feeling like I'm just adding another impossible task to my to-do list of things I will fail at? How can I become the new me? Mind, body & soul?
If you have any suggestions, I am open to them.
I am one new mother currently seeking a relationship with herself, her soul, and ultimately -- God.
My suggestion is to keep writing as honestly and beautifully as this, when you have time--not as a burdensome new expectation. I suspect this start moved you in the direction you wanted to go, and it certainly was a gift to your readers. I read your essay slowly and enjoyed it deeply. Thanks!
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