Becoming a mother definitely changes you. I could tell you that it’s sort of like when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly – people love that analogy. Even though we’ve learned through science that the caterpillar actually turns into goo inside the cocoon before turning into a butterfly which is actually kind of gross but lends itself incredibly well to the beginning of motherhood, (i.e. your brain is goo) I’m not going to use that analogy. Becoming a mother is more like the evolution of a Disney child star. Not expecting that? Bear with me.
I’m talking about the ones who, at a very young age, star in a Disney Channel TV series. You know, like Miley Cyrus or Demi Lovato. They become famous. Everything is wonderful. They’re young and happy and skinny and making money. Sort of like a young woman prior to becoming pregnant with her first child. Catch my drift yet? No? Ok. So, as it happens, Disney TV stars often hit the classic rough patch. Typically it’s drugs, or boys, or alcohol, or puberty or all of the above. For the sake of my analogy, let’s call this rough patch the pee on a stick, 9 month pregnancy, epidural, and warm, soft baby that is swiftly dropped into your shaky brand new mommy arms. Now. When do we hear from the Disney channel star again? Think about this. We don’t hear from them again until they’re on the other side. The other side of rehab, or time away from their work, or whatever sabbatical they needed to get through this, “rough patch”. No one gets updates until they’re ready to come out on top again into the public eye. Once they’ve received a lot of help, and love and support, we see them again, praise them for their efforts and move on with our own lives. But they’re no longer a Disney child star. They will never be one again. They’ve entered an entirely new phase of their lives, and they’ve just gone through hell in a desperate attempt to reclaim who they are as a healthy person. Let’s call this, the first few months of motherhood.
I want to talk about the space between your first baby being lovingly plopped into your bewildered arms and when you emerge metaphorically as a butterfly. I mean, walk out of rehab. I mean, as a new Mommy who finally found her groove. For me, it took five months. Others take longer and some find their groove more quickly. Don’t ever compare your journey to anyone else’s. You have this premeditated vision of who you will be as a mom. Some women imagine that they will so chill. Of course they’ve imagined their baby will be chill too. Some women imagine that they’ll be just like their memory of their own mom. Or just the opposite. Most women watch all of the other moms they know and pick and choose the things they like and things they don’t like that those moms are doing. That mom gave her child a pacifier off the floor?! BLASPHEMY. That mom boils her kids pacifiers? What a psycho. Let me tell you a little something. You won’t be anything like the mom you thought you’d be. Sorry. It’s a fact. You know how I know for sure? Because you haven’t met that baby yet. You cannot imagine what type of mom you will be without knowing what type of child you will give birth to.
Side note: Have you ever gone to a puppy training class? Where they teach the puppy to sit and stay and lay down and all that? Have you ever noticed that they aren’t teaching the dog at all? They’re teaching you. It’s a human training class. You just brought the puppy because it’s cute. Imagining what type of mom you’ll be is like showing up to the puppy training class without a dog. Sure, you could go and learn all the commands, but it’s really completely useless until you’ve got the puppy there to be cute and piss on the floor.
Your child will define you as a mother. Not the other way around. All of this is to say that it hardly matters how much reading, thinking, and watching other moms you’ve done. You’ve now been sent home from the hospital with a newborn, actually living human being who is completely incapable of doing anything at all for themselves. And you haven’t a clue what to do, but more importantly, who you are. Suddenly you’re not a Disney child star anymore, because Disney children don’t go to rehab. Welcome to the real world, sister. You’re not so young and happy and skinny anymore. You’ve aged 5 years during your 3 day hospital stay and you’ve emerged with a belly that best resembles a bowl of jello. Suddenly you’re fighting with your spouse over things like how to fill the dishwasher, why the Christmas tree is still up and whose turn it is to sleep. The dog hasn’t a clue why her thrice daily walks came to a screeching halt. Everyone is confused and tired and a little angry in general and a whole lot in love. The days and nights are endless and you feel like the fog isn’t ever going to lift. Whoever you thought you’d be as a mom comes crashing down around you. Why in the world did you just boil the pacifiers!? Just when you start truly asking yourself why in the world you thought it would be a good idea to ruin the wonderful (Disney child star) life you had with a baby (rehab)…that tiny bundle of joy smiles at you for the first time (remission). A real smile. Not a fart. You smile, and baby looks you square in the eyes and smiles back. Twice in a row. For the sake of my analogy, I will relate this moment to finally being released from rehab, but you might still be in hiding from the public. The fog has not entirely lifted, but you’ve seen a glimmer of hope in that gummy smile.
It is very very difficult to be confident when you have not slept. Confidence and sleep go hand in hand, and therefore, it feels nearly impossible to trust your instincts as a new Mommy when that hollering baby won’t let you get any sleep. Eventually that babe (or maybe a kind relative) will let you get a good nights rest, you’ll find your groove, and you will emerge from the fog and back into the “public eye”. You will never be a Disney child star again. You might be a butterfly, except that your brain is still goo and you can’t fly because all the baby shit you need to carry is too heavy for your new fragile wings. You’ve been released from the fog, having grown exponentially as a person, and now you’re entering the fight of your life to find yourself again – the new you, the even better you, the one that little baby calls, “mama”. Now get out there and be a Demi Lovato, and not a Lindsey Lohan. Godspeed.
