For most of my life, I’d feel sad (our outraged) when a child was hurt or sick or died. Now that I’m a mother, each child I hear about that has something happen to him or her makes me cry. I feel each one like a member of my family has been hurt or gotten ill or died. I did not expect that.
Everyone knows that becoming a parent will change things. I didn’t really know what a raw rebuild it would be. Yes, my body is never going to be the same–in ways that might make me cry if I think about them too much. My body was far from perfect before, but we’re not just talking about stretch marks here. The sum total of everything that has changed about my body has left me with some confidence issues, and I wasn’t all that confident to begin with. Then I look down at the little creature that my body protected and nurtured for almost 38 weeks (and still does), and I have more love for my body than I ever did before.
I have wrinkles I didn’t have before from all of the worrying. I look tired and disheveled. I don’t get a lot of sleep at night because the little guy wants to sleep with me instead of alone (more on this in a future post). My uniform is pajama pants and a loose shirt so I can quickly and comfortably play, nurse, or nap with my son as needed. I might pee a little if I sneeze. Some days, I just have to settle for a quick spongebath instead of a real one. I could go on, but that’s enough of the gory details to get the point.
My little duderino doesn’t care about any of this (yet). He doesn’t care how much my tummy sticks out or if I haven’t shaved my legs in so long that I could be mistaken for a yeti. He just looks up at me with those big, beautiful, trusting eyes and smiles at me whether I look good or not. I seem to not care as much about any mean things someone else might think about me now.
If course, the huge smiles from random strangers we get when out and about help with that, too.😉
I had planned to document my pregnancy, my foray into motherhood, and how my outlook on life was changing. Then things happened as things tend to do. Now I have a 10 month old, a partially filled out baby book, and the delicious fatigue that comes with parenthood.
So, hello. I’m a 36 year old first time SAHM to a dashing young sir. I used to be a lot of things, but now I’m living my favorite title. Sometimes I miss those other things, and I’ll probably write about that at some point, but I’m thrilled with my latest career path. The pay is fantastic, too. What other job pays you with the biggest smiles, cutest toes, sweetest hugs, and warmest cuddles you’ve ever known? Don’t answer that because it’s probably something I don’t want to think about.
If you’re reading, I’m honored. If this sits around without an audience, I’m totally okay with that.