Bring on the Crazy

I planned to write a lot about my new journey as a mother.  But somehow, every time I sit down to write about it, the space inside of me reserved for words just becomes...empty.

Usually I can feel the words building up inside of me, all lined up and ready to come together and form sentences.  But for whatever reason...lately my words have not been cooperating with me.  It's happening now.  I just don't feel anything.  And it's not because being a mother is too hard - even though it is the hardest thing I have ever done, it is also (strangely...) the easiest.  And it's not because I haven't been getting enough sleep - someone slept for 8 hours in a row last night!  I think maybe because what I didn't realize about becoming a mother, is that it makes you a little bit crazy.

It's true.

The hardest part for me ....okay.  There were are a lot of hard parts for me.  Disliking my body for the first time in my life was one of them.  And a lot of that had to do with guilt.  "You just brought an entire new person into this world using only your body and some encouraging words from your husband - your body is AWESOME.  Your body is SO STRONG. You should feel GOOD about your body."  And yet....not recognizing the body in my mirror for at least four months was hard.

And I know that I had 9 months to prepare for this, and that it didn't happen overnight.  But being pregnant was like a time warp. I was so enthralled with my changing body during pregnancy that I honestly loved my shape the entire time.  So when it came time to not be pregnant anymore, my body simply forgot about that weird 9-month-time-warp and it just compares itself to pre-pregnant me. Which, I think, is probably a big mistake.  See?  Moms are crazy.  



Remember that club I wrote about?  Well, what they should have been saying, was "welcome to the crazy."

When else in your life do you feel so intense, warring emotions at the exact same time?  There have been so many times when I have been literally clutching this little tiny person who is so sad and I want to make him feel better because I love him so much, but if I hold on to him for any longer I will probably scream or kick something solid and hard.  So I put him down.  Go outside and recharge in the sun for 15 seconds.  Then I come back in and offer more love.

So easy to love!  

I have been feeding him and loving the fact that I can nourish him just using myself (GO body!) but sometimes in the midst of the "go me!" feeling comes the ok-now-get-off-of-me-that's-too-much-sensory-overload.  

The funny thing about this picture is that I am actually feeding myself and Trip at the same time.  (Too much? Gross. Sorry.)

I cannot even tell you how many times I have gone from feeling so fulfilled by being his mother...to so lonely because I am a mother within the same five minutes.  I talk to myself in public.  Quite casually wipe the regurgitated breast milk from my sleeve and KEEP WEARING THE SHIRT.  Gross.  Carry a baby around in a milk crate because that is the only way I can bring myself, the baby, the tea towels and aprons into work all at once.  Request that my husband take a video when he is home with the baby and the baby is eating pudding.  (It's actually quite a boring video....odd.)  Sleep eight hours in a row one night, then wake up every two hours the next.  Catch myself walking towards his room when he has been napping for more than 20 minutes because what if he's not breathing?  Then stop myself because COME ON self!  You're not one of those moms....  (Yeah...but....So I walk to his door and press my ear to it instead....) And let's not even talk about how excited I am when he poos, especially when it stays in the diaper.

These are just a few of the things that motherhood has made me do.  See?  Crazy.  Motherhood has made me crazy*.

And still...that little face bursting into a smile when anyone makes eye contact with him....melt.  And that giggle! Oh the giggle.  The giggle gets me like a quick sucker punch of love to the heart.  Every.  Time.  And how it feels to be holding this little person in my arms, and suddenly he just lies his soft little round head on my shoulder....every muscle in my body sighs with contentment.   I don't really know if I will ever understand how it can be so easy but so hard at the same time.  But, I suppose I have always been fairly good at embracing the crazy.  So maybe that is all any of us can do.



*Dancing around the parking lot one day, singing a song I made up about what I like to call my "mom-shade" which is when I use my body as a sun visor for the baby (duh!) so he's not in full sun, I recalled a comment my friend Antaeus said to me one time, nearly eight years ago: "Cara, you do so many embarrassing things that I would never think about doing in public."  Which is to say....maybe I have just always been crazy, but now I have an excuse?