This year will be my first "real" Mother's Day. Last year, I was about 7 months pregnant and waiting for the arrival of the baby that I had worried would never be a part of my life. Although I was already dealing with the limitations that pregnancy puts on you (limited coffee, no alcohol, an increasingly tent-like wardrobe, too many doctor visits and all the usual mobility issues) I had no idea, really, of the changes that were coming. I knew changes were coming, but I had no way of really understanding what they would mean -- that one day I was going to go into the hospital and a few days later I was going to go home a completely different person. It's one thing to be pregnant. To have made the full transition into motherhood is something else entirely.
And, while I have loved most of it, I could hardly say it was all roses. The first two months taught me that I could function on two three hour naps at night with most of my good nature intact. I struggled with all sorts of worry about breastfeeding and introducing pacifiers (Z refused them) and bottles (something I should have been more open to so that I could have given myself the occasional break from nursing). I learned to deal, albeit somewhat badly, with a baby, who, at roughly 5 PM every evening went through a fussy period that could only be soothed by constant motion at a time when I just wanted to be still. I also discovered that "working from home" without supporting baby care doesn't work, even with a relatively immobile infant -- at least not when there are phone calls to be on and an endless stream of email to be answered.
After two months, the initial shock wore off and while I loved interacting more with Z, I started to really realize what had changed in life. John and I could no longer go out for dinner at the drop of a hat, and if we did sneak out with the baby, restaurants had to be chosen for child-friendliness. Doing "regularly scheduled" things such as getting a facial, going out on our weekly date or out to knit with friends, shopping for myself and just going to work, required a lot of extra planning to make sure that someone could watch Z. The more mobile she got, the harder it became to indulge in my hobbies. It's hard to knit and keep a baby from falling off a couch or play computer games while your child is trying to go headfirst down the stairs.
I'd be lying if I told you that I wasn't mourning my old life just a little.
But usually about the time I really start to feel the loss of my old ways, I have a moment that makes me push the loss aside. It can be the feel of little hands pulling on a pant leg to ask to be held and to share a gummy smile. Sometimes it's coming home from work and having Z practically "run" over to me to welcome me home. Or watching her hit some new milestone and getting to share in the triumph of that new experience. Often it's walking her to sleep in the basement, and getting to watch a baby angel fall asleep in my arms. What could be more special than knowing that I can give her the comfort and love she needs to drift off into a peaceful nap?
Z has taught me to value my time and to use it more wisely. I pick projects more carefully, waste less time aimlessly cruising the internet, and just generally try to keep things more organized so I don't waste time cleaning up or looking for things that I need so that I can work on something I want to do. I'm more focused at work and plan out routine shopping trips to get them done more efficiently. On the other hand, I don't worry now if I don't get to all the house chores or I don't have time to blog or if I fall behind on my correspondence if I am trading those things for time spent with John and the baby, not doing anything but being together as a family.
Welcoming a baby into my world has helped me to reflect on myself and who I want to be a great deal. I want to be someone that my daughter will always be able to look up to, love, and respect. I want to be a good role model for her, someone that she will want to be friends with when she grows up. This desire is helping me control my temper, be more patient, be better to the people I care about and to make sure I am focusing my life and my career in ways that make me happy. There is still a long way to go, but every day when I see my baby girl, I have more motivation to keep going in the right direction.
Having Z has helped me open my heart a lot more to children and people with children. Before Z, I didn't dislike children, but I didn't really want to be with them much, either. Now that I have a child of my own, I can understand the magic they bring and why that magic is worth being tolerant of the unhappy screaming child in a restaurant or the seemingly endless potty training stories. I get truly happy for people when they make baby announcements. I enjoy random encounters with people in stores, restaurants and parks who have children or who stop and let Z flirt with them. I've always felt rather distant from most of the people around me, but Ms. Z is an incurable flirt. Having Z has helped me feel closer to the world I live in -- her desire to interact with the world is encouraging me to get better at it, too.
While I have no doubt that my husband will come up with some lovely gift to commemorate the day, my baby girl has already given me the most incredible gifts that I could ever ask for: her beautiful smile, a desire to be a better person, and a change in perspective that has altered my life, in the best way possible, forever. On Sunday, I'll certainly enjoy being a mother, but I will really be celebrating the sweet little person who makes every day I have with her brighter because she is in it.
Mama loves you, baby girl.
