It's making sense. [state of motherhood, three months in]

 

Almost exactly a year ago I wrote a post wondering how I would know if I was ready for motherhood. I had truly hoped that my hesitancy about parenthood would change with that positive pregnancy test, but it didn't. Less than a month after I wrote that post I was crying (NOT happy tears) at the two pink lines staring determinately up at me and really feeling like life was over. I battled fears, anxiety and honestly, regret for much of the next 36 weeks.

As it turned out, I was right. My life was over.

But it was replaced with a life that is fuller, deeper, and so much bigger than it was before. Every experience is magnified and intensified. I don't think Eric and I lacked or were at a loss before we had E, but our lives are different and truly better with him.

Lately, I have been asked variations on the same question,

"So, is motherhood what you expected?"

I have a hard time knowing how to answer that, because I don't want to gloat or sound insincere. I know for a lot of moms, it is harder, more overwhelming and more exhausting than they imagined.

But when I say that being is a mom is SO SO SO much better than I imagined, it is just scratching the surface.

All of the bad things I dreaded either aren't as bad as expected or have become totally irrelevant. A lot of the things I was worried about not being able to do, we can totally do (this is coming off of a four-hour plane ride with a three-month-old after five days of family chaos, which we all survived really well). We can still travel, go out with friends, and have fun. And what we can't do right now, I hardly miss. I know we'll do those things again!

  

  

Before E arrived, I just knew that I was going to hate parenting an infant. The poop and the crying and the blobby-ness and not knowing what I'm doing. And then that infant that I had wrestled with for months and shared my body with and wished away more than a few times, was placed on my chest, I was just in complete wonderment. I was in love. Suddenly it didn't matter that I don't like infants in general, we had OUR OWN BABY HUMAN. Who needs me and knows me. That first wave of realization that I was it - the mama, the nurturer, was a game-changer. It still is.

I love being a mom.

  

And E. My sweet baby son. I could write pages and pages about the way he intertwines his little fingers and unfolds them again so that he always looks like he's cooking up a devious plan or really worried. The way he burrows his head in the crook of my arm and rubs his face until it's red trying to get just the right kind of comfortable for a nap. The desperately excited look on his face when he is trying to talk in response to Eric or I.

The love I feel for this kid is limitless and overwhelming. It's more immense and joy-filled than anything I could have expected. I have no idea what I'm doing. And at the same time, it makes perfect sense.

  

This is the kind of crazy talk I would roll my eyes at before I became a mom, so if you need to gag, I GET IT.

Motherhood just has a way of changing you...

 

Knowing when (to have kids, that is)

 

Me with my 2-day-old baby nephew Gideon in July

 

Now that I have a job and E has a job (Oh, I didn't mention! E has a job. he's a pastor. at our home church that we love. Praise God!)

As I was saying, now that life is a little more settled—we know we're staying in the San Diego area for the long-term and we're in our fifth year of marriage—the inevitable questions are coming up about kids.

I don't just mean from other people (though I have been hearing it from my family and friends more often) but also between E and I. It's funny how the thought of children hardly enters your mind for years, until it does. And then it's oh, hmm, maybe we should think about it. And then,what are we waiting for again?

I guess we're at a point where I don't have good excuses for putting it off any more. I mean, I have excuses. I know we'll never be ready—emotionally, financially or otherwise. And we know we can never completely prepare for it. But if it happened now, we wouldn't have to move back in with our parents.

Last year I wrote about feeling left of out of the mama club. Not that I wanted to be in it, but that I was starting to be really cognizant of the great divide between mom and non-moms. I'm still not sure how brave I am to enter this world.

When I think about parenthood I think of a lot of never-agains (quiet dinners out, and movies, and Europe trips, and sleeping in). It's hard to remember that we'll still have many good years after children, and that the freedom eventually returns. And it's hard to realize that the good things that kids bring into the picture could (maybe?) make up for all the things we'll lose. (Because—what if NOT?!)

I have a lot of fears. But one of the biggest and maybe the silliest is that I know that being a mother is a relatively thankless and marginalized job. And my ego reeeeally likes attention.

I am looking forward to some aspects of motherhood—seeing the world for the first time through the eyes of a mini-me seems kind of exciting. And E was born to be a dad—I can hardly wait to see him with our children.

But I still feel pretty meh about the whole having-a-baby thing. Most of my mama friends got bit hard by the baby bug at some point. I'm beginning to think maybe I just won't. (For what it's worth, I'm told this feeling will change when a baby is actually on the way.)