Motherhood is …
A belated Mother’s Day poem of sorts
Last year on Mother’s day, I published this post. My husband was deployed and my eldest daughter had just started daycare. I was very much in the trenches of new motherhood, navigating separation anxiety and adjusting to new routines.
It is truly mind-boggling how much can change in a year.
Now, with 2 kids under 2, I’m firmly in my motherhood era. And I’m doing my very best to embrace it. There are high moments and low moments and everything in between. Mostly, I feel humbled and bewildered by it all. My second birth has broken me open in new and different ways.
So, I wanted to share another iteration of snapshots of motherhood. Mostly for myself. My goal is to do this every year during May to chronicle my motherhood journey. The words are imperfect and messy and probably don’t make much sense, but I’m writing and sharing for my own benefit more than anything else.
If you’re a mama, I invite you to write your own version of this “poem.” Get out some paper or open your computer, write “Motherhood is …” and see what flows out. I’d love for you to email me or share in the comments!
Also, I promise that I will not be exclusively writing about motherhood in this space. I have other essays planned and projects in the works. But right now, this is the most consuming part of my experience, and these are the words that are flowing.
Motherhood is … Always feeling guilty And constantly testing my limits It’s incomplete thoughts and a short attention span It’s the overwhelming need to record or capture every fleeting moment As time slips through my fingers It’s feeling crushed beneath the knowledge That I’ll never get to relive these days It’s getting tossed by the sea of postpartum emotions And some days just trying to stay afloat It’s discovering a new strength Gritty, powerful & primal Tough, but also tender Like my C-section scar Motherhood feels like my skin has been singed off and every bit of me is tingling, my nerve endings so exposed responding to even the slightest change in the direction of the wind It’s sometimes going numb And just doing what needs to be done It’s raw & honest & unfiltered Because there’s just no other way It’s crying with my husband when that certain song comes on the radio Motherhood has smashed me to pieces and rebuilt me into something more beautiful and true Like a mosaic It’s looking across at my spouse, and looking back at the past 2 years of our life, wondering how it went so fast and how exactly we got here It’s playing tag-team And doing trade-offs Trying to find some sort of balance It’s a living room transformed into a playroom And a lack of any “adult space” It’s nursing a newborn while reading to the toddler Always multitasking In 2 places at once While trying to remain present
It’s living life 2 hours at a time Between explosive poops and blowouts that warrant immediate showers It’s swaddling the toddler’s stuffed animals like babies because she demanded it It’s a constantly overflowing amazon cart Diaper cream A portable fan More wipes It’s a wardrobe transforming Into mom clothes high-waisted bikini bottoms And compression underwear Motherhood is a laundry pile that is out of control And a kitchen table that’s never clean Encrusted with oatmeal and yogurt and last night’s dinner It’s noticing new freckles and age spots and fine lines And gray hair But having zero energy to care It’s feeling touched out but also craving their snuggles It’s shifting priorities and choosing our battles It’s living for bedtime Walking around in a sleep-deprived stupor The days revolving around the nights Waking up and already planning for the next bedtime Trying to make sure everyone gets enough activity Enough awake time Enough sunlight Enough to eat To ensure a “good night” Where everyone sleeps as much as possible It’s anxiety every time I have to leave the kids alone for a second Praying that the toddler doesn’t try to climb into the pack and play Or flip over the swing It’s everyone always needing something – including the dog
Motherhood is deciding what kind of mom I want to be Instead of bending to everyone else’s expectations It’s avoiding social media And any people/places/conversations that make me feel less-than It’s trusting that I’m good enough And exactly what my babies need Just as I am It’s catching myself, thinking “I can’t believe she’s my daughter” as she grows and changes before my eyes It’s decoding toddler speak and singing the same songs over and over It’s the “i yuh you” that melts my heart It’s watching my partner parent in awe and being slightly jealous when he is preferred but knowing full well that he deserves it It’s love oozing out of every poor along with caffeine & exhaustion It’s a dream that I never want to wake up from even though sometimes it feels like a nightmare It’s disappearing into a crummy couch with blankets that smell like dog A tangle of limbs And yelping when someone inevitably pushes against my sensitive boobs or sore tummy It’s absolutely intoxicating watching my partner Snuggled up with our kids Reading books The sweetest symphony Of giggles and hugs Spending every monotonous moment Trudging through lunchtime messes and afternoon diaper changes Chasing those sweet glimmers Like an addict chases a high Doing what needs to be done And anticipating that next dopamine hit It’s swelling with pride When she pats the baby’s back Or hugs me Tapping her pudgy fingers on my shoulder saying “it’s ok, mama” It’s loving her for exactly who she is now and all that she will become and wondering if I can say the same about myself While at the same time Recognizing so much of myself in her It’s an ongoing personal, profound, and spiritual journey That shakes you to your core And takes you Straight into the heart Of everything