Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Mommy Pants

Ever since I became a mom, I have wanted to do a blog about the wild ride that is parenting. Part of me wanted it so I could be a bit creative, be a bit witty, make other mom's have a chuckle at my expense and in understanding when I recount my toddler's delight at flushing three rolls of toilet paper in their entirety. Laugh and feel fuzzy with the good times, commiserate when it's not so good.

 But something happened when I put on the new mommy pants and it wasn't something I had expected. I had waited my whole life to wear these pants, felt in my heart of hearts that no matter how much I failed at anything else (my husband would tell you I am a woman of many skills, and master of none. I have a short attention span and a love of learning new things.) I would rock being a mommy. Heck, as a teacher, I even came with some pre-loaded software! So it was a surprise that I felt like I was constantly floundering.

I expected it to be hard. I expected the challenge, the lack of sleep, the spit up and the diapers. I didn't expect to find myself hating breastfeeding when my son was an "excited ineffective" feeder, how alone I felt in the middle of the night when he refused to sleep anywhere but in my arms and I was terrified of co-sleeping, I didn't expect how completely and totally I felt I had lost who I was in becoming mommy. I would cry in the dark, cradling the little boy I adored, feeling like I was failing him. I'd despair at the never ending chores, single income budget, and missing intimacy and fear I was failing my husband. I would stare in the mirror at my reflection, at the weight I could not lose, my neglected hair and skin, my defeated eyes, and feel such loathing for everything I could not do and know I was not being fair to myself. I was even failing that woman in the mirror.  I didn't expect to be diagnosed with Postpartum Depression, or to still be struggling with it as my son approaches his second birthday. But I was, I am, and I have decided it is time to do something about it.

So I find myself here writing, not because I want to share in the journey of becoming a parent, but because I need to. Because despite having an amazing husband, wonderful family and friends,and a beautiful, incredible, sweet and funny little boy, I feel so terribly alone. Because someone reading this might too.

So this isn't just a record of my adventures in motherhood, but the chronicle of finding out who I am, who I am becoming, and remembering how to like myself again. I plan on sharing how I got to this point, what I am doing to try and rescue myself, and the successes and challenges that occur along the way.

So if you're reading, thank you. I hope my experiences help even just one other mom who finds themselves, like me, barking at the moon instead of giving themselves credit for what is, in my own mother's words "The hardest job you'll ever love."

2 comments:

  1. *hugs* Love you sis, and I am so proud of you for taking this step. I will always be here when you need me, but I understand too that this is something you need to do for you alone. You are amazing, I don't think I would have the courage to put this all out there.

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  2. Go you for your bravery and honesty. I think it's so, so hard for women who are used to being strong to admit when they need help, especially with something this invisible and pervasive. I wish I had had the courage to ask for help more when my first kid was little.

    It may (or may not!) surprise you to know that I have always been amazed by how you've been able to keep up with things like art and hospitality through the throes of early motherhood, even with everything stacked against you. I admire your perserverance to keep important things in your life and the strength of your heart to keep giving to others... and I'm very glad that you're finally getting help figuring out how to fill your own well back up. Much love and all best wishes that you can do so soon, and have more sparkle back in your life again.

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