Greetings from (the) motherland

musings on new motherhood.

I can’t even tell you how many of the tabs currently open in my browser are unfinished Overshares. I’m chuckling internally (and also rage screaming) at how the before-times version of me thought I’d have time to “do stuff” once Luna was born. I thought, surely I will be able to just set her down in her crib in the afternoon for a nap (nope) and write my little weekly newsletter, write a song or two, do the dishes, and take a shower (nope, nope, nope, and nope). There is never enough time to do … anything, unless it pertains to her. HER life is amazing at the moment; it’s a lot of giggles and smiles and attempts to roll over, some Sesame Street (sorry not sorry to the anti TV parents!), and plenty of naps disguised as stroller walks (she still doesn’t realize this manipulation tactic that I am practicing with her, thank god). She is a happy, healthy baby with every single one of her needs being met 24/7. I, however, am a wee bit of a, how do you say … shell of a person?

Here’s the thing. Motherhood is the most exhausting, soul-sucking thing I’ve ever done. I do not recognize myself in the mirror, physically, spiritually, or emotionally! And not to be vain, but... my body? I don’t even know her! Not to mention my postpartum hair loss is … alarming! With that being said, I am witnessing a perfect tiny baby angel girl awaken to the world on a daily basis, and it has changed the way I see and experience, well, everything. The world right now is, shall I say, hell, but having this innocent and magical new roommate around, I am endlessly reminded of what is really important and what is just some silly little hangup invented by my ego (right now it’s that I’m not “online” enough - my ego is pissed; my soul, however, is living the semi-offline dream).

People don’t really tell you the truth about becoming a mom. Of course, you never hear the end of the get your sleep while you still can! boomers in your ear, but the lack of sleep is honestly not even the hardest part. There are so many other *things* that come with being a mom that people don’t really tell you, and truthfully, I don’t think they tell you because really these things are … indescribable. There aren’t any real words in the English language, or any language for that matter, to describe how isolating and draining early motherhood is. I use “early” here because I am still so new at this, and therefore my experience is still forming and, honestly, changing every single day, but I already know it’s the hardest job on earth. I have never felt more lost in my own life, and at the same time, in exactly the right place. I literally count the milliseconds until this person goes to sleep at night, and once she is asleep, I miss her. I revisit photos of our day, and I watch her obsessively on the monitor as if she is in an episode of my favorite Bravo show (which, by the way, I have no time to watch anymore!!!) Needless to say, motherhood is a complex, impossible to solve rubik's cube made up of slobbery-mouthed blissful kisses, guttural cries that send you straight to hell, and Groundhog Day-level redundancy.

Stroller walk, aka a nap.

Here’s the thing: I say these things not to deter anyone from having a baby; it really is a miraculous thing, and I do not regret doing it even in the slightest; my life feels more purposeful and full than ever before, even if I still don’t understand how or why. I say these things because I think they are important to (over)share. A lot of moms feel in over their heads and feel like they are not supposed to feel this way, but I honestly can’t imagine not feeling this way, and because I am me, not saying it outloud. The first rule of the Frazzled Mom Club … you ABSOLUTELY talk about the Frazzled Mom Club. Why do you need to talk about the Frazzled Mom Club? Because if you don’t, the Frazzled Mom Club becomes … well, much worse than the Frazzled Mom Club; it becomes the Mommy’s Mind Goes Bye-Bye Club.

I do realize that my take on motherhood is not unique, nor is it the universal experience of all mothers. A certain little pop star mentioned motherhood being misery on a certain little podcast recently, and the internet is up in arms over it. The moms who are thriving can’t even believe that someone would suggest motherhood is daunting and at times joyless. My fellow Frazzled Mom Club members are like … she has a point! It’s true, some moms are thriving, happy to devote their entire day and life to being in service of their child. Some moms are rocking their baby to sleep at night and realizing they are living out their ultimate dream in life, something they hoped and prayed and wished on a shooting star for, and you know what? I am sincerely happy for those moms! I, however, am not (yet?) one of those moms. I am currently existing on some new mom island where the norm is a shoulder covered in spit-up, 100 unread text messages, and a messy mom bun so messy, I am surprised a bird has not flown into it and attempted to raise her own babies. Sometimes my baby doesn’t even feel like my baby. Sometimes when I’m out on one of our decoy nap walks, I wonder if people think I’m her babysitter. Not because I am youthful-looking—at the moment I’ve never looked (or felt) older, but because at times I just feel so disconnected from this new role as “mother” that I don’t even know how to wear it (aside from spit-up shoulders and crazy top-of-head bun).

Solidarity, sister!

I wonder sometimes what it would be like to be one of the “being a mom is my purpose in life” moms. The ones who feel fully fulfilled by motherhood right away, like their baby was the missing piece to the puzzle of their existence. Listen, I know those moms also feel overwhelmed and burnt out from time to time; it is impossible not to feel that way when you are responsible for keeping a human being alive, and really, anyone who says they don’t ever feel the oh fuck, here we go again blues when their baby wakes them up at 3:30 AM, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to PARTY - I don’t trust them!!! I know it’s in there somewhere. I really can’t imagine what it would be like to not admit that you sometimes feel like a tea kettle that is screaming over and over again, alerting you that the water is boiled, but you can’t get to the stove to turn it off. I, for one, am absolutely boiling over, and I have no time to turn myself off.

Everyone tells me I’ll have time for myself again someday, but that is very hard to imagine when my entire day revolves around fulfiling the needs of someone else. Of course, this is still all so new to me, and I am still in what they call “the trenches” in so many ways because Luna is still so little and 100% dependent on me (and did I mention she will not take a nap in her crib?) The moments in the day when I have a single second to check in with my one remaining brain cell, I often feel like I’m doing the worst job at mothering of all time. I KNOW all of the feelings I’ve mentioned here are normal and things I shouldn’t feel guilty about - and to be frank, I don’t feel guilty. I feel like this chaos, this beautiful chaos, is part of the rite of passage into motherhood. I know that nothing worthwhile is ever easy, but goddamn, I didn’t know it would be this hard.

She loves a FaceTime.

Even though my brain, body, soul, and spirit are whistling away on the stove of life, I am so happy Luna exists and that she is mine. What is life after all if not an objectively insane and hard thing in which we are responsible for making our own purpose? I suppose right now, my purpose is to learn how to float in the swamp of nuance that is motherhood. Love my little girl, raise her right, and try to remember that the why did I do this? moments are just that, moments. This baby girl is the biggest blessing I can think of, and she is already teaching me so much about myself. Mirroring back to me all of my shadowy parts, like how much I hate to fail (JUST NAP IN THE CRIB PLEASE!).

As someone who, previous to becoming a mom, did not enjoy in the slightest ever being inconvenienced, I have had to learn to tolerate being inconvenienced about 500 times a day. Does it feel good? No. Not at all. In fact, sometimes it feels like falling face first into a cactus garden, and having no choice but to get up and say, OK! IT’S TUMMY TIME!!! And then, I set her down on her colorful little play mat (called a baby gym? I don’t love it), my face still prickly from freefalling into the metaphorical cactus garden, when suddenly she notices the flying squirrel-looking animal dangling above her head, the same one she saw yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and she squeals with joy as if she has never seen such an amazing thing before. Slowly but surely, the burn of the cactus discomfort melts away, and I am plugged back in to the miracle of my child experiencing joy in its purest form. For that moment, I forget about the 4 AM wakeups, the poop that is inevitably underneath my fingernails, and the fact that my back is now just perpetually sore. I remember that these moments are fleeting; one day she will be slamming her bedroom door in my face, saying, “I HATE YOU. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME!” and I will flash back to these very afternoons where I am desperate for five minutes of autonomy and think to myself, ahhh, those were the good old days!

And so, while these days of endless bottle washing, monotonous loads of tiny person laundry, and desperation for a solo 2 PM stroll through the candle aisle of HomeGoods are consuming my life, my home is filled with tenderness and an adoration for life in a way I never knew possible. I am learning to hold the strongest of opposites at the same time because I am forced to. There is no return policy on a baby, so you have to memorize the definition of surrender real quick, babe! Every day is a new adjustment, a new pivot, a new moment in time where I have to remind myself that everything is a phase. A new opportunity to soften my heart instead of letting it stay cast iron and stiff. I can honestly say motherhood has already, at times, felt like the worst thing, but it has also felt like the best thing. Maybe that’s what this whole thing is, the best worst thing? I don’t know; I’m still discovering it and where I fit in to the whole thing. All I know for certain right now is this “thing” will continue to expand, as will I, all while pushing me to the absolute limit of what I am capable of, and to that I say, bring it on, bitch. I can do anything, I’m a mother!

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