This ‘mom’ game.
I know that hundreds of people have written thousands of articles on being a mom, about what it means and how it changes them.
I remember in the early hours of the morning in the first few weeks I spent hours upon hours trawling the Internet trying to find other moms who were going through the same thing as me. Was anyone else scared to sleep because his or her baby might stop breathing? (Even the purchase of a baby movement monitor did little to calm those thoughts).
Was anyone else finding this whole thing hard? I mean, are you even allowed to say it is hard? I was struggling with feeling like I wasn’t good enough at this whole being a mom thing. That I had given up on breastfeeding too easily; that I was using the wrong bottles and that she wasn’t eating enough. Was she sleeping too much? I questioned every little decision I made and I think it was beginning to send me a little bit insane.
The other part I was struggling with was the loss of ‘me’. I went from being Sarah to Mom in an instant and I felt like I had lost a part of me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my daughter. I know some people struggle with bonding and I am lucky enough that bonding was not a major concern for me. But the loss of ‘me’ was. I felt like I couldn’t claw back my own persona and the ability to just be me. I suppose in a way, I still have not fully regained the person who I was pre motherhood, but then again I don’t think I ever will, because I am not that person now. I do look different, dress differently and act differently. I matured quickly because I had to, but that isn’t always a bad thing.
It took a while for me to get into the swing of being a mom. There were many days where I would turn around and it would be 4pm and I was still in my PJs and I hadn’t eaten any proper food yet. I would spend hour after hour cuddling my baby, (something everyone told me not to do, but I did it anyway!). I don’t regret a single moment of that now and I love looking back at the photos I took of us both at the time. I’m a scruffy mess, but I am a content scruffy mess.
As Evie has gotten bigger it’s become easier. That’s not to say I have this whole thing sorted, that I am a super efficient mom who has it all planned out. I don’t. I’m not one of those moms who do really exciting creative dinners where it looks like animals and we don’t live in a John Lewis home. However it is clean and tidy, its warm and there’s food in my fridge and custard creams in my cupboards. I’m also getting better at making sure all my washing is put away, so that’s a win.
There are still many things I do find hard. I’m really bad at spoiling Evie too much. I love to see how happy she is when I buy her something, but on the flip I realise she is becoming way too materialistic and has more toys than any one child could ever begin to play with. This is entirely my fault and is something I need to work on. I also struggle with how I think I should be acting compared to how I am acting. I always think I am not doing this right. That I am somehow failing her and that she would be better off without me. This thought doesn’t come around as often as it once did, but I think it will always be there, hiding in the back of my mind. I know deep down it’s a load of rubbish. It’s clear to anyone that me and Evie have a very strong relationship and I adore the very bones of that girl and would give my life in a moment for her. But I always want to be more for her, and I doubt that will ever really go away.
What I am trying to get at really is that motherhood is hard. Amazing. Difficult. Wonderful. But hard. And it’s different for everyone. I wish I could spout some motivational crap here about how I’m only going to be positive from now on but we all know that’s a load of bull. But what I can say that for every low point I could give five amazing highs. I wouldn’t change being a mom for the world, but I’ll always question if I am any good at it!
Until next time …