SEISMIC SHIFTS

The day we left the hospital after giving birth to our oldest I cried. I cried when they rolled me out the front door of the hospital. I cried when I got in the car. I cried as my husband buckled our little bundle of joy into their car seat. I cried all the way home. Granted the drive home was roughly one mile, but still.

I was exhausted and beyond overwhelmed. Forget the trauma of giving birth (which I know a lot of women give birth without a hitch, but we definitely had some hitches and they left a mark) but how was I at all qualified to raise a human? I had read some books. I had watched videos - that birthing video about killed me. I had gone to parenting classes. Both my husband and I have significantly younger siblings, so we had an idea of what we were in for, but we didn’t have to ensure that our siblings were fed. Or vaccinated. Or educated. Or safe. Or decent human beings. If you fail, it’s a big deal! How could the nurses look at me and think “Yeah. We should let this baby leave with that sobbing mess”.

Really, just a bad call on their part.

Making the shift from a married couple to a family, and from wife to mother is intense. Your identity has changed forever. You are somebody’s mother. In the beginning, parenting is heavily weighted on mom. The sleepless nights trying to figure out why your baby is crying. Feedings every two to three hours. Trying to get your baby on a sleep schedule. Endless laundry because there is spit-up and poo on everything, including you. Trying to figure out weird little things like cradle cap, which seemed like such a big deal at the time.

All the while your hormones are raging. You feel like you have lost control of everything, including yourself. All of a sudden you find yourself at Walgreens, yelling at the nice lady who is just trying to help you. But they don’t have the shampoo to help with the cradle cap? Or the other item you need?! How is that possible??!! You literally went there for two things and they are both out of stock???!!!

It’s a lot.

My mom helped out for the first few days after we got home from the hospital, which was a godsend. I was able to get some sleep which I desperately needed. But when she left and my husband was at work, I was alone with this alien I hadn’t figured out yet, and I’m not gonna lie. I was scared. Motherhood did not come as naturally to me as I thought it would and it was taking me time to learn about and adjust to this new person in our home. As it turns out, that’s pretty normal. I wish I would have known that at the time.

After a few months, we all found our groove. I was back to work and my husband and I divided up feedings so I could get at least five hours of sleep a night. It worked. And this kid. You guys. This kid! I had never been so in love. I mean, I love my husband, but this kid was my heart and soul. Those eyes and that hair. That sweet little laugh. Boy howdy. We were smitten.

By the time our oldest was two years old, we were so in love that we decided another child would be perfect. We were so right. Three and half years after the birth of our oldest, we had our youngest. I wondered if I had enough love to give to another baby. Who knew the human heart is so capable of love? This perfect little angel was the best decision we have ever made. I sincerely enjoyed my maternity leave. We all just eased into our new life with this beautiful baby. So easy going. So sweet. So beautiful. Just glorious perfection. While our youngest did not get the benefit of 100% of our time, she did get the benefit of our experience. We were able to sit back and really appreciate having a newborn in the house. It was a breeze and I ate up every moment.

Meeting For The First Time

At that point in our lives, I sincerely loved motherhood. I found myself saying “I love this stage” at EVERY stage. That stage where your baby starts to smile at you because they are happy, not just because they are passing gas. That stage where they figure out how to use their voice and joyfully scream for twenty minutes at a time. That stage where they try to give you kisses, but their mouths are wide open and your cheek is covered in drool. Even the first knockdown, drag-out temper tantrum at Target because they didn’t get the toy they wanted. Some days were more trying than others, but my role in their lives was clear. I knew who they were, what they needed, and how to make them feel better when they were mad, sad, or hurt.

Fast forward thirteen years.

I find myself at another transition point. While I am still their mother (obviously) both kids are in their teens now. What they want and need from me is less. They disappear into their rooms for hours at a time talking with friends, playing Minecraft, and watching YouTube videos where some late teens/early 20’s woman is screaming and laughing while playing video games - I don’t get it but apparently, it’s a thing.

The point being, we are not their preferred people anymore. That was the plan all along, right? Our job as parents is to raise our children to be independent, useful members of society. We teach them to navigate through life without us. This is what we’ve trained for. And, while I understand that it is 100% natural, I find myself at a bit of a loss. So much of my identity has been tied to being their mother that I find myself wondering who I am and what my role in their lives is as they continue to grow.

People do this all the time, so I know I will get through it just fine, but it is harder than I thought it would be. And it is starting sooner than I thought it would. I really thought I had a couple more years, but here we are.

So while I’m trying to figure this out, I take solace in the fact that I made it through the first seismic shift of becoming their mother. There were moments at the start I wasn’t so sure I would. I take pride in the fact that we are raising two genuinely interesting, intelligent, funny, tolerant, and beautiful people. I am sincerely proud of our children and love them more than anything else on this planet. And, at the end of the day, I know they love me back in their own, teenage way.

If you have advice for this stage, I’m all ears. Comment below.

Until next time.

#grayhairblogging