Holy sh*t, I had a baby!
Listen. I realize I’m not the first person in the world to have a baby. I’m not even the billionth. At least, I don’t think I am. Have more than a billion women given birth since the beginning of time? Maybe I’m around the billionth? Who knows. Math is hard.
Aaaaand I’m already off track. Writing is hard, too.
Allow me to digress. After many months of morning sickness and anxiety/excitement over what it’s going to be like to have an actual baby, I gave birth to a beautiful boy a few weeks ago. He arrived three weeks early and he’s really cool and also very loud, nocturnal and voraciously hungry. In other words, he’s a baby.
I’m inspired to write about my transition into motherhood and what it’s like to have a kid because 1) I enjoy writing, 2) this whole journey gives me something to write about, and 3) as noted above, having a baby is quite possibly the least unique experience in the world, but that’s what makes it universal. There’s something special about putting my thoughts and feelings about motherhood out into the world, knowing so many people feel me.
I’ve only been a mother for a few weeks, but like a lot of people, I’ve been hearing about what it’s like to have kids pretty much since I was a kid. I’m excited/nervous about learning for myself. Is it true that life doesn’t really begin until you have kids? Is it true that I won’t have a good night’s sleep for at least 18 years, first because a crying baby/toddler is waking me up, and later because I’m worried about what he’s up to at night?
I already know one thing is true: Looking at my little guy’s face right after he was born made me feel love I’ve never felt before. What a cliche! Everyone loves their baby. But I don’t know how else to say it because it’s just so true.
I also know another thing is true: Saying “I slept like a baby” to indicate a good night’s sleep is just bad English. Saying “I slept like a baby” should mean you woke up two hours after going to sleep, demanded milk from your mother, cried for a while, went to the bathroom, cried for a few more minutes, fell asleep, then repeated the whole cycle about an hour and a half later.
And that’s about all I know right now. In fact, I seem to be forgetting things now that I’m a mother. I poured cranberry juice into the dog’s water bowl this morning, and I forget whether I’ve fed him basically every day. Lucky dog is probably getting two dinners every night.
As far as motherhood goes, I’m planning to learn as I go, and record much of what happens here on this blog: the good, the bad and the tired.
So far, I’m living in the land of breastfeeding, changing diapers, taking my baby to the pediatrician for weight checks, going for short walks in his stroller, welcoming visitors who want to meet the baby, and all the general newborn things. We’ve had a few small obstacles — jaundice, trouble latching, thrush — but all in all, my husband and I are lucky to have a healthy baby. We’re lucky to be able to enjoy those general newborn things.
One thing I’m already thinking about a lot is identity. I was reading the “about the author” section of a book the other day — I always read acknowledgments and “about the author” because I never want books to end — and something this particular author said struck me hard.
She wrote something like, “I used to enjoy hiking and biking in the Appalachian mountains. Now I enjoy the view of the Appalachian mountains from the window of my minivan while I shuttle my kids to and from soccer practice.”
I don’t know if she resents the fact that she no longer hikes and bikes. I don’t know if she wishes she could trade in the minivan for a mountain bike. Maybe she’s perfectly happy with her changed life circumstances.
But whatever her circumstances, I haven’t stopped thinking about what that sentiment means to me. I never want to stop doing the things I enjoy and I never want to give myself up because I have children. Maybe I’m naive. Maybe every mom says that when she has her first baby. But maybe they don’t. Maybe a lot of the time, moms (and dads) accept that babies change everything and they’re happy about it.
I love my son and I want to spend time with him doing baby activities. But I also want to spend time doing mom activities, both with and without them. We’ll see how that goes.
Stay tuned!