My son was born three months ago, and nothing not even 9 months of pregnancy could have prepared me for what awaited me.
I had some vague idea about what it meant to be a parent, I mean I knew many parents including my own mother who birthed seven and was a pro at it. So naively I thought to myself, there is not much to this.
Before my son’s birth I had engaged in endless research on pregnancy and the birth and delivery process but somehow didn’t think to research on how to take care of a new human being!Oh man and those first two weeks home were tough.
I quickly learned that parenting wouldn’t be just another accomplishment to check off my list. My new born wouldn’t be the cutest accessory accompanying me on my daily adventures. My hobbies would not be exercised as freely as before. I wouldn’t be free on Friday evenings to drink with my girlfriends. I wouldn’t be able to go on morning hikes to the highest peaks in the valley. My hubby and I wouldn’t have romantic dinners alone for a long time. My naivety deceived me. I didn’t consider the amount of freedom that would have to be put on the shelf.
What I have learned is that being a parent is hard; truly a labor of love. One I could not do without the complete support of my husband and family.
I have learned being a mom means holding my pee longer than I ever thought I could before.
I have learned being a mom is sleeping with one eye open, awkwardly sleeping sitting up and sometimes not sleeping at all.
Being a mom means neglecting to get a comb through my hair.
Being a mom means eating my meals whole like a snake eats its prey.
Being a mom means tip toeing around the house, to prevent unraveling the hard long battle spent trying to get baby to nap.
Being a mom is missing him when he naps.
Being a mom means 5 minute showers, hair washing, shaving and all.
Being a mom means not fitting into a third of the clothes hanging in my closet.
Being a mom means neglecting our poor pets.
Being a mom means having to get ready for an event up to 2 hours early just to ensure I leave the house on time.
Being a mom means leaving the house with what seems like a suit case full of things you’ll inevitably need throughout the day.
Being a mom means loading and unloading the baby in car seat so many times it discourages me from stepping out.
Being a mom means crying when your kid is crying.
Being a mom is thinking no one could take care of my baby as well as I do not even my husband, sorry hubby.
Being a mom means needing a break once in a while but lacking the courage to leave my baby.
Being a mom means milk stains all over the house.
Being a mom is smelling his scent on me while I am away.
Being a mom is feeling like I don’t talk to him enough.
Being a mom means celebrating all his new developmental milestones.
Being a mom means finding new ways to make him giggle.
Being a mom means being flexible and learning baby doesn’t care about my preset schedule and routine.
Being a mom means smiling at strangers’ babies when I was never a baby person before.
Being a mom is the greatest love of all, because it does not look for reciprocation.
Being a mom means feeling capable of killing for your child’s sake, even though I believe in non-violence.
These last three months I have discovered the tremendous sacrifices parents make, in particular mothers. I have gained a new understanding and appreciation for all mothers out there and especially those before me with greater challenges than me. Being a parent means our individual needs are secondary to those of our children. Nothing seems as important as their comfort and happiness, and nothing pains you more than their pain. Being a mom to me is living not just for me but for us.