Over the past five years, my body has nurtured, carried, and welcomed three wonderful children into this world. I’ve fed them, cradled them, and showered them with affection. Yet, sometimes it feels surreal that this is my reality.
When did I transition into motherhood?
It feels like just yesterday I was a young woman driving home from the hospital, a tiny, wailing bundle in the backseat. My body ached in ways I never expected, and I was engulfed by fear over whether I could meet the demands of that little being. Mothers are often seen as deities, effortlessly knowing the soothing words for a crying child, the perfect place to kiss skinned knees, and how to discern countless rashes. I was clueless.
Five years prior, I had the title of a mother, but I wasn’t yet a mom. It would take time for me to reflect and realize when I truly earned that cherished designation.
What marks that pivotal shift from a new mother to a seasoned mom?
Is it the moment you find yourself frozen on the toilet, anxiously anticipating that first poop after a vaginal delivery? Is it the nightly zombie-like shuffle down the hallway for feedings, dozing off in spit-up because you can’t muster the energy to change the sheets yet again? Or perhaps it’s the late-night pumping sessions to maintain your milk supply, enduring cracked nipples, or dealing with unexpected body hair growth?
Is it the first time you cradle your baby through an entire night, despite your neck screaming in pain from awkward angles, just to steal a few moments of rest? Is it the joy of their first smile, the moment they reach for you, or the beautiful sound of “mama” escaping their lips?
Could it be the adrenaline rush of a midnight trip to the emergency room or the shock of holding them as they bleed from a fall? Is it sharing their tears and silently crying alongside them, burying your face in their hair to shield them from your own emotions?
Is it slicing their food into tiny, manageable pieces or buying multiple cups to prevent fights over the pink one? Is it the warmth of their first “I love you” (or their first “I hate you”)?
Is it picking them up after they stumble or rebuilding their confidence when friends let them down? Is it the guilt of muttering curses under your breath about them, only to regret it later? Or is it the pride you feel as you boast about their achievements to friends and family?
Is it the clutter of their artwork on your fridge, the color-coded family calendar, or the gas money spent driving them to various activities? Is it packing school lunches, supervising homework sessions, or chaperoning dances?
Is it the anxiety that accompanies their first outings without you, making fourteen calls in one night just to ensure they’re safe? Is it saying “yes” when you want to say “no,” or enforcing rules that you know are necessary?
Is it giving up your social life, nightlife, and intimacy? Or is it the acceptance that they will eventually seek their own adventures in those realms?
Of course, it encompasses all of these experiences and none of them simultaneously. Motherhood defies categorization; it isn’t something you can quantify or check off a list. It’s as elusive and profound as a baby’s first giggle. It evolves alongside your children, always looking back but forever moving ahead. It’s about sharing your life with another beautifully imperfect being who, time and again, astounds, frustrates, and surprises you.
And if you’re anything like me, you’ll find yourself awake late at night before your oldest child’s fifth birthday, reflecting on how swiftly time has flown by and feeling both grateful and humbled by the incredible journey of becoming a mom.
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Summary:
This reflective piece delves into the multifaceted journey of motherhood, exploring the transition from being a new mother to embracing the role of a mom. It highlights the many experiences, challenges, and emotions that shape this identity, illustrating that motherhood is not a checklist but a dynamic evolution alongside one’s children.