I’m a Mommy

I’m a mommy.

I don’t always find time to shower every day. Sometimes a toothbrush and deodorant have to suffice. My hair dryer is collecting dust and, while my hair has grown beautifully long from my pregnancy, it is almost always piled on top of my head to avoid pulling, etc. And because I just don’t usually have the time or energy to do it. I have traded in my skinny jeans and heels for sweatpants and flip flops most days. My latest fashions come with clip-down straps instead of designer tags. And they are almost always covered in spit-up by the end of the day. I haven’t watched a full TV show, uninterrupted in months and movie theaters and restaurants have become mostly foreign to me. My child has started sleeping through the night but I am still awake every hour – checking that she is breathing. I wake at every sneeze/cough/fart/thumb-suck. I eat most of my meals standing up or driving or while playing with musical elephants. I hear the song from that musical elephant everywhere. I don’t entirely remember how to hold down an adult conversation that doesn’t include the words “poop” or “nipple”. I hear phantom crying while in the car/shower/backyard/supermarket. I have had to pack away 80% of my clothes and buy a new wardrobe, two sizes larger than my pre-pregnancy clothes. It took me weeks to actually figure out what size I am because trying on clothes with the baby with me is like Defcon 1 and is, therefore, impossible. My previously rock hard booty is now slightly saggy and adorned with stretch-marks. While I have the desire to work out, the time and energy to do so are simply fantasies. My house has gone from neat and organized to a state of almost constant disarray.

Silly time with my girl ❤

I’m a mommy.

I am beautiful without silky, blown-dry and straightened hair. My skin glows from the inside out with love, nurture and pride. I am filled with so much love that my body simply cannot contain it inside. I have traded in my compulsive shopping for the latest fashions for compulsive shopping of clothes I am comfortable in and allow my child comfortable and easy access to nursing and snuggling. I have learned that, more important than the clothes on my body is my body’s ability to provide my child with life, vitamins, nutrients, immunity and love. I have worked through raw, cracked, bloody and painful breasts to provide this benefit to my child. And I would do it all again in the blink of an eye. I’m strong and now my child will be too. I don’t miss my TV shows. I’ve replaced them with teaching my daughter how to get that crazy little elephant to turn on and play music all on her own. Instead of filling my time with make believe lives, I now fill my time with helping another life to thrive. I’m a teacher; Of language skills, smiles, laughter, cause and effect, motor skills, social skills. I teach trust, love, healthy-sleep habits. One day I will sleep through the night again. And I will miss the days when my little girl was so little and would wake me up, needing to be close to me. So I cherish the middle of the night feedings, where she looks up at me and smiles, holding on tight to my finger. If my old clothes never fit me again, I will find comfort in providing them to someone who desperately needs clothing on their back. My new body is incredible just the way it is. That body grew and brought forth life. It nourished my child, enabling her to be able to survive on her own and become her own, independent person. Every new wrinkle, sag, pound is a symbol of the irreplaceable bond between my daughter and I. A bond no one else will ever have with her. A bond that means more to me than the size printed on the inside label of my jeans. I do not have stretch marks. I have tiger stripes. They are a symbol of my strength as a woman and mother. They are a symbol of my greatest accomplishment in my life, now or ever: My child. One day, they will fade. But my love and pride will remain strong. As for my house? That disarray isn’t “mess”. It’s love, knowledge, fun. When my daughter grows up, she will not look back fondly on how clean or spotless our home was or wasn’t. She will look back fondly on the memories we’ve created spending time together, being silly and snuggly.

I’m a mommy. And I’m beautiful and so is my life. You’re beautiful too, mommy.