"Don't You Love Being a Mom?"

I’m looking forward to “loving being a mom.”

The question that I get asked all the time--don’t you love being a mom? For weeks (or is it months) now I have dreaded that question and feared my own answer to that question. Did I love being a mom? Did I wake up each morning so excited to spend the day with my daughter? Did I have warm fuzzies running up and down my spine every time I came in contact with my daughter?

The truth was, I dreaded that question because I didn’t think the expected answer of a resounding “YES!” was my answer. I grew up wanting to be a mom. I envied my friends who got married early and started their families. I watched my dream of a large family seem to go down the drain as I got later and later into my twenties without finding “the one.” And then I found him (he’s by far the best man on the planet) and we started our family. We were so excited to have our own kids. We came up with fun ways to share with our families that we were having a child and we were thrilled at the ultrasound to find out it was a baby girl (okay, we would have been thrilled either way).

And yet, I had several moments of deep mourning as I carried my first child. I mourned that her father and I would not be able to take trips to far away places whenever we wanted. I mourned that we wouldn’t be able to have date days full of fun activities. I mourned my independence. After 30 years of life, 10 years post college, I had gotten used to my independence, my ability to be spontaneous, my ability to travel. I also came to the realization that even though I had always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, I had become a career woman, and was mourning the idea of leaving the work environment and colleagues that I had grown to love.

And then she came. I thought I was prepared for the unexpected, but everything about my little girl’s birth was a surprise and in hindsight I realize that I went into a little bit of shock. My midwife told me I had to stop working two weeks before I was actually scheduled to stop working—I’m a teacher and so that meant some quick turn around with my long-term substitute. One day I was working, the next I was done; no closure, no prep time to say goodbye, lots of loose ends. That isn’t how I like to do things.

My water broke 3 weeks early. I actually cried when it happened as I changed my pants and started packing the hospital bag. “I’m not mentally ready for this,” I told my husband. At the hospital I was immediately under observation because of a late pregnancy preeclampsia diagnosis, and was stuck in bed so they could monitor my blood pressure and my little girl’s heartbeat. Her heartbeat didn’t follow the pattern they hoped for, so half way through the night I got an epidural to ease the strain put on both of us---my labor progressed as I got sleepier and sleepier so I never did use those wonderful labor strategies. It is hard to use them when you are half awake.

Then I dilated the last 5 centimeters rather quickly. The next thing I knew they were prepping me to push. I felt like I was in a fog. My little baby came fast. Again, not what I expected. I was ready to push for an hour or more. Not that I’m complaining, but before my husband or I knew it, our midwife was holding a baby. A baby who turned out to be under 5 pounds. Again, not what I expected. The newborn clothes had looked small until I held them up to my baby, and with a small child come more observations and precautions. She had to be pricked before each feeding to check blood-sugar levels. I learned about nipple-shields. I was pumping more than breast-feeding.  Everything was a blur.

So, early baby, small baby, not breastfeeding well, had to supplement, extra day in the hospital, monitoring blood sugar levels, an IV stint in place just in case, bili blankets, endless appointments to check biliruben levels and have help from lactation. The worst- having to feed every 2-3 hours around the clock with a baby who took at least an hour to feed each time. That meant very little sleep and the emotional trauma of watching her enjoy the finger feeding with my husband more than the breast-feeding with me.

I was thankful for no NICU time, no transfer to another hospital, being able to bring my baby home and I didn’t actually suffer from post-partum depression. But shock can numb your senses and mess with your emotions.

I didn’t attach to my child as quickly as I thought I would. When I watch deliveries on TLC or other places, I almost always tear up when the baby is finally placed on the mother’s chest. I didn’t cry at all when I first held my baby. Again, I think I was in shock.

At home I enjoyed her tiny head on my chest, but I didn’t feel the bond I thought I was supposed to feel.

And the weeks passed. Don’t you love being a mom? What, you mean the part where my body feels all out of whack and I feel like I am just a feeding machine for a little bundle of human who just wants food no matter how it gets into her mouth? You mean the sleeping no more than an hour at a time? You mean the sitting and pumping and trying to stay awake because I can’t nurse my baby for more than 10 minutes or she will burn more calories than she is taking in?

And then she locked eyes with mine and smiled and I thought, maybe this mommy thing is worth it.

My husband is an articulate, insightful man. During those first few weeks he reassured me- “You are a quality time kind of person. Just relax. The more time you spend with our daughter, the more you will fall in love with her. That is how you are wired.”

But it was still hard as I watched him glow with love for our daughter and share with others how much he already loved her.

  

It is amazing the unspokens in the mommy world. I decided to be open about it and shared with my mom that I didn’t actually love newborns- they are amazing to hold, but draining to care for. My mother lovingly gave me permission to not love the newborn stage---it is exhausting, especially if your baby needs any form of special attention. I told one of my friends, who is 5 weeks behind me in this journey of mothering, that newborn was not my favorite and not what I expected before her little guy was born. Later she told me that she too had some of those feelings. Yes, cuddling a newborn is relaxing and calming and a special treasure; I’m sure I will appreciate it more with my second. However, I feel like I have spoken to several mothers who, when I say that I think I am just entering what will be my favorite part of parenting (4 or 5 months on up), they all agree. Several have even said that as their kids enter adulthood it is even more fun.

So to those of you wondering, I’m anticipating that I am going to love being a mom. As she gets older and I see her laugh, smile and coo; as I watch her explore her world; as cuddles become more of a choice instead of just a “I can’t hold my head up” reflex, I start to see how much fun and rewarding being a mom can be. This has been a tough stage for me, and one I never would have imagined being tough. Yet, I see the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Today she rolled over, tomorrow she’ll be walking and before I know it we will be reading books together, playing in the park, attending school functions and watching her wonderful mind and personality grow and develop. I can’t wait!

Someday soon (or maybe even if you asked me today) my answer to the question: “Do you love being a mom?” will be a resounding, “Yes, best job in the world!” and I look forward to stating that answer with great joy and honesty.

Post-Script: Please know that one of the reasons that I struggled with wanting to love my role as mom when I wasn't was because I have several friends who want to be moms and, for various circumstances, are not. I too was in that place at one point and at the beginning of my new title of mom I struggled with guilt for not being happy at something I had wanted for so long, and had been blessed with when others hadn't. Know I have compassion for people who are waiting for the joy of parenthood, but also want to be real about the struggles that accompany just about any life changing decision/event. I am extremely grateful for the chance to be a mom, even if it isn't always the easiest thing.