Whew, I did it. I'm a survivor. I have come out on the other side, and is it okay that I feel pretty victorious about it?
My baby is one year old. I have kept a human alive from its most fragile and dependent state, to a slightly less fragile and dependent state. For a whole year. Yay me. [and Max. Duh]
Motherhood is an amazing thing. An incredible and rewarding journey.
After twelve months [and a few weeks] I can look back and easily say it was like going through puberty all over again. The crazy roller-coaster hormones, strange and terrifying body changes, and comparing yourself to every human you come in contact with. Anything you can think of, some new mom out there has cried about it, either joyously or in distress. I never thought my body could experience, or wear, the things it did. You can see why I feel like such a champion.
Now that is more than anyone wants to let their imagination loose with. I'll stop myself before I become the "horror story mom". After the last year I've decided those are my least favorite. My mind has been victim to just about every irrational fear, managing to put up a pretty valiant fight.
But I have decided that I want to be the most encouraging and loving friend to new moms. I have never felt so alone, so helpless, and so inadequate as I did those first months. Even as I was surrounded by some of the most wonderful moms and an awesome husband. Sadly, for every one of those there are a million hormones terrifying you with the accusation that you are failing. Miserably.
The truth is that you will never experience anything so completely demanding, and yet overwhelmingly fulfilling. I hope that in the midst of tantrums and poop explosions, I won't ever forget those moments my heart bursts at the seams with joy. These truly are the days of miracle and wonder
And my advice to fellow moms is this: Love yourself, let yourself be loved-
enjoy that love, and love others.
