I've been MIA again.
Obviously, life has changed dramatically and I just haven't had the time to blog. Or read blogs. Or comment. Or even really think about them.
Everyone tells you to prepare yourself for your life to be turned upside down. You roll your eyes and think "Of course life is going to change! I'm not an idiot!! This is what I WANT!! Bring it on!!!"
But, man. It CHANGES. You know it will. You think you're prepared. You think you'll never be the mother with dead eyes, unshowered with dried spit up on your clothes, manically rocking a baby begging through tears for him to just PLEASE sleep. Just for an hour. PLEASE.
Well, at least, I thought that. I thought surely I had this on lockdown. I had experience with babies from my daycare days and I was so ahead of the game.
I was prepared. I had to be. I FOUGHT for this baby for close to two years so OBVIOUSLY it all had to be perfect and sunshine and rainbows.
No surprise that I was wrong again (you know, like back in the day when I thought I would be pregnant the month after going off the pill. Oh, how I can laugh at my naivety now).
Motherhood is EVERYTHING.
And by everything, I mean it in every sense of the word. I can't express the feeling that went through me when they pulled him out of me. I had grown detached through my long labor and eventual c-section. It didn't feel like a baby was coming at the end of all of it. It was abstract. I shut down.
But then they pulled him out. And they held him up and he cried. And it was like a shock just went through my body. All I could think as my emotions finally made a reappearance and I started crying was "There you are. I've waited for you. You're more perfect than I ever thought possible."
Motherhood is everything. It's completely overwhelming emotionally. This little creature depends on you for everything and the enormity of that becomes real. You realize that you would do ANYTHING to keep him safe and happy. He's everything and the focus of your life shifts.
Then you come home. And motherhood is everything. It's what you breathe and think of every second of the day. I won't say it's what you sleep because sleep really does become the most valuable and missed experience of your life. It's overwhelming. Everything about your existence is about this baby. It's wonderful and exhausting.
Last night we got back from a road trip with the little man to check out our new town we're moving to in a few months. And I realized I needed to do SOMETHING that wasn't baby related. Anything.
So this morning we all got up and got B fed and I handed him to the husband and told him he was on baby duty.
I then put on some Alanis super loud and started cleaning. Sweeping and mopping and dishes and dusting. It needed to be done. REALLY needed to be done.
And as I was singing as loud as I could to some old school jams (I mean, really, who doesn't love Ironic?!) I started to get flashbacks.
Flashbacks of the girl I once was. Before I was married. Before I was infertile. Before the treatments. Before everything. I remembered what it felt like to zoom down the highway with my windows down screaming along to some good music while smoking a cigarette (yes, I smoked. No, I don't anymore. And, yes, I occasionally miss it. Shoot me). I remembered that feeling of absolute freedom.
I remembered who I used to be. Completely carefree and fun. God, I was SO FUN! And funny. I loved to dance and joke and drink with my girlfriends. I don't feel fun anymore.
Sometimes I feel like I let being a wife swallow me up. And not to mention the years of infertility and how they took up my entire existence and became my only focus. And now B.
Let me be clear and say that I don't regret a single second of it. I love my husband so much and he's changed my life in so many wonderful ways and really through our relationship I grew up and have learned so much about myself and life. I love him and I love the things we've experienced as we've moved around the country together.
But, I don't want to lose myself either. I fear that I've let that happen over the last four years. And I fear that if I am not careful I will let motherhood do the same thing.
It's funny how a few hours of cleaning and good music can clarify things.
So, I'm here.
Struggling to find myself (again!) while trying to be a good wife, good mother, and heal from the scars of infertility.
Struggling to hold onto the remnants of the girl I once was while trying to become the woman I want to be.