Being MaMa

I've always wondered what it would be like to be a mother. And I thought I'd be able to articulate my experience by now, with 7 months experience, but I, I just can't. I guess it's just one of those things. I likewise thought I'd be able to describe my love for my spouse on the day of our wedding, but I tried to describe my love for Cody at our reception and failed miserably. It was just too hard to find the right words, beautiful words, that described my affections that day.

Sometimes I'm this way with religion. I could begin to try to describe the existence and importance of Deity, but I would sound elementary and confused and in the end, I would think that my description was different from how I really see and experience religion. Sometimes I feel like bearing my testimony is a futile endeavor, but if I go super micro and focus on specific topics about my faith, then I feel much more articulate and true.

There are some things in life that are just too huge, too awesome, too close to the heart that it makes conceptualizing them, let alone describing them, near to impossible.

Motherhood is that way to me. I have a beautiful 7 month old baby girl that I made and grew in my belly and have cared for all this time. Could this little girl I hold really be that little mouse I saw in the ultrasound this time last year? Really? Could that even be possible?

In terms of science it all makes sense, I know. I'm not stupid. But when you really stop to think, it is crazy that my little mouse on the screen is my almost crawling little one.

My whole life I've watched mothers in action, I've practiced being a mom with dolls and purses and babysitting and by being an Aunt. And now I'm a mama. And it is surreal.

Here is what I have so far on motherhood. And I'm going specific here to help with my discription. I also doubt this list will capture how I experience motherhood, but I shall try.

1. At any given moment I could feel like a babysitter, but too often, I'll look at Alivia and have all the love in the world consume my heart. And I've never had that happen to me as a babysitter.

2. Her cry pulls at my heart. I've always found babies crying a bit unnerving and annoying, even the babies I've loved. I'd be swift to pick the baby up and soothe it just to stop that unnerving sound. But Alivia's cries affect me in a very different way. From 0-3 months it was an "oh that little cry is so cute" pull at my heart because she hadn't yet found her lungs and that little quiet whimper cry was the cutest thing I'd experienced. Seriously. I wanted to video it so that I could remember it in all its cuteness, but then the cry would draw me to her side so that I could fix whatever it was that was making her cry and I never got around to videoing it. Now her cry is very different from that quiet whimper. It is louder without fail. But it still isn't what I expected. Now, it pulls at my heart in a "oh honey let mama fix it" way. The cry grew from cute to sad. And when she cries, I rarely even think of what my own ears are experiencing. Instead I think of what my heart is experiencing. The worst is when I can't fix what she's crying about. Like when she has a cold. Or decides to fight going to sleep and is overtired. Or when I'm driving and can't explain to her that we're almost home and we will get her out of that contraption of a car seat and play to her hearts content. This aspect of motherhood has maybe been the biggest shock.

3. I feel like we are best friends. Now don't be alarmed, Cody is my best friend and I'm never going to be that woman who dresses like my teenager and wants to know all of the high school drama so that I can be one of the girls and beg in essence for my daughter to think I'm cool and THE BESTEST, but I do feel a friendship with my daughter. After all, I spend my days with her and I talk to her all day long and she witnesses my emotions and experiences and I feel like we know each other and get each other. I wish we could have a conversation about the movie I recently saw, "The Vow", or about how my lesson went on Sunday or about how she could possibly like being carried on someone's hip all the time. After all, I'd much rather be strolled around.

4. I worry for her safety. This I expected in motherhood. But unlike some mothers I've spoken with, who worry about the future and feel the weight of molding and shaping a child into a responsible, contributing member of society, I worry about the here and now. Alivia's childhood, teenage, and young adult years are so far from my mind. And my main concern is really just about her physical health and safety. I worry about leaving her for a date, regardless of the capabilities of the babysitter (often a family member with more mothering experience and skills than me). I worry about nutrition and constipation and good weight gain and the like. Thankfully I no longer worry about Alivia's head shape. I also no longer worry about SIDS, but unfortunately that has only been replaced with the fear of her smothering/suffocating in her sleep. I'm good to let the worries stay in my head. I don't call the pediatrician and am the worst at remembering to ask during her regular check-ups about the physical things that do concern me (i.e. the bumps by her right eye or the weird way her belly button feels). But this worrying is my new norm I guess.

5. I long for childless shopping trips because doing such errands without a baby in tow is so much easier and faster. I often won't do many errands in a day because I feel guilty having Livy confined to a stroller or car seat for too long. But, when I'm out alone and Cody has Livy, or when we are on a date, it's amazing how she is always on my mind. And it's amazing how, without fail, I always end up missing her, and get excited to see her upon my arrival home. It surprises me that I haven't ever regretted going home because then I have to mother Alivia. I always thought I would. And maybe there is a small part of me that wishes I could arrive home and just take care of things without having to pump or feed or the like, but that small part is hidden by that larger part of me that is excited to creep around the corner and say, "hello" to a fresh smile staring back at me. Cody just isn't as genuinely happy to see me return from errands.

And that's about all I can say for now.