Finding the "Me" in Mommy

I came across a blog recently that had a title something like that and it really resonated with me. When I went for my six week post-partum check-up, my OB asked me if being a mom was harder than I thought it would be. I honestly, if naively, answered "no, not really." I felt like I had a pretty decent idea of what to expect out of motherhood. Or at least that I had as reasonable of expectations and insight as any new mom could have. I had been an only child for twelve and a half years when Aunt Cat came along, and for most of her early years I felt like I had half raised her. (Out of sheer interest in doing so, not because she didn't already have a mom) I had tried hard to have a big influence in her life and to become close to Aunt Lizard when she became part of my family. More recently I had spent seven years listening to parents and trying to help them take care of their children. I don't know what the resume for a new mom should look like, but I thought mine was pretty good.

A year later, I don't really think I could have known or prepared any more, but I think it's safe to say a few things caught me off guard. The day-to-day duties of taking care of you were exactly what I expected. At six weeks post-partum, that was all I had the wherewithal to consider. What I didn't expect was just how much I would lose myself in that time. Even though I promised myself I would remember to take care of myself, I didn't. I had every intention to, but like any good mom, when the choice came down to taking care of you or myself, you came first. Even as I knew that taking care of myself would help me be better for you, I always thought I'd get to it later. As I recently heard another mom say "I forgot to pencil myself in." Still, I think that losing myself was part of the process. I am grateful to my dear friends who made such efforts to remind me of that, and to remind me that I would find myself again. I'm still in that process, I think. I know that the "self" I find will not be the one I lost. I can already tell that she is softer (literally and figuratively), both more and less flexible, more spontaneous and more of a schedule fiend. I have always tried hard to not define myself by what I do, but before I was mommy, I was a professional, a cook, a wife, a runner, a daughter, and friend. For much of the last year, I was barely a few of those, and several of them I was not at all.

I recently read a blog post of a friend who is now the mother of two. She wrote so beautifully of the changes her body has made to accommodate her babies. She wrote to remind herself how strong and beautiful her body was in pregnancy and childbirth. She mentioned the joy of feeling her babies move beneath her stretch marks. She wrote of the fulfillment of having nursed exclusively for six months and watched her son grow. She wanted to remember those things when she looked at herself years later and saw only the sagging and the stretch marks. I cannot do her post justice, it truly was beautiful and poignant, but I want to record those sentiments, so maybe I will remember them too. I don't know why I didn't think about the changes my body would make post-partum. I was so careful to workout during my pregnancy, and felt great doing it. How could I not realize that "no exercise for six weeks" would take its toll. How did I not realize that I wouldn't be hitting the pavement if I was barely hitting the bed. My childbirth class instructor said it would take a year to "get (my) body back," but somehow I thought she meant hormonally, not physically.

Then came the tough part. I think the hardest, unexpected part of being a mom for me has been the place where mom and professional overlap. I think most people expect that that should make being a mom easier. In some ways I guess it does. Certainly being a mom makes me better at my job. What I didn't anticipate is how much I would feel extra pressure and responsibility for being a good mom and doing everything the right way. I didn't anticipate how much I would feel that others are watching me because of what I do. Judging what kind of professional I am by whether I struggle over things as a mom. I really have no idea how much of this is in my own head, but I don't think it all is. Moreover, I didn't realize how much I would put pressure on myself and over-analyze my own decisions. I am pleased to say that I have done a good job of just being "mom" with you. At the few points this year when I began to use my working skills, I stopped myself and called your pediatrician. I have never listened to your heart except with my ear on your chest, I've never looked in your ears, or examined you any more than any other mom might. I hope that will always be the case. Still, I fear that, if you are ever seriously injured or sick, someone will look at me and wonder why I didn't know or respond sooner. I pray that will never happen.

While all of these things have been tough or surprising, I don't think I would have changed much in our last year together. I wish I could remember more of our early days together. Sleep deprivation has left them in a rose-colored haze. I wish I had worried less, relaxed more, and had more pictures of you, me, and your Dad together. All easy things to say in hindsight, but hard things to do in the thick of it. While I could not imagine the ways I would change after you were born, I also could not have imagined how it would feel to hold you in my arms, or have your little hand reach for mine. I couldn't imagine the joy of hearing your laughter, or the excitement of seeing you learn something new. I cannot list all of the amazing and endearing things we've experienced together this last year or explain how they've touched my heart. I may have lost my old self, and finding the new "me" as mommy will be a challenge, but it's a challenge made so very worthwhile for having you in my life.