Gray Baby turns one year old in less than a month. I know I sound like a broken mom record when I say that this doesn’t seem possible. There is no way that my happy, unicorn baby has been out of the womb for almost a full year.
I’ve learned a lot about myself as a person this past year. Some lessons I came to expect and others were a surprise until I took the time to reflect. While this might not be the experience of every mother, I do think that every mother can relate.
I discovered a new found empathy for others.
I’ve never understood extreme anxiety or the sense of being so overwhelmed that you can’t move or mild depression until this year. In the past, I talked with others who experienced those emotions on a daily basis and could sympathize but could never empathize with them in return. This changed when Gray Baby was around five months old. I was finally getting in the groove at work, Grayson was trying to master new skills, and we finally had breastfeeding down. Out of nowhere I was being hit with these surges of emotions that made me sit at my work desk and wonder how I was even going to make it through the day. I felt like I was in a sand pit and for every inch I moved upward, I slipped a good three feet.
This was not me. This was not Chelsea. I finally went to the doctor and he gave me some great advice before I decided to try medicine: go on dates, have sex, eat well, and exercise. Doing those four things helped tremendously; so did talking to other moms. Now there are days that I feel like I can’t accomplish 1/10 of my to-do list, but I don’t feel so stuck in panic that I can’t try. I can empathize with friends or coworkers that are having those struggles, baby or not, and remind myself of how I felt.
I can call myself super woman.
I want to publicly apologize to any moms with whom I spoke in the past, and thought I was as tired as they were. To my own mom, I’m sorry for every weekend that my three siblings and I woke you up at the crack of dawn. One of my biggest fears while pregnant was whether I would be able to survive on little sleep after giving birth. I quickly learned that my body adapted and I’m able to run on far fewer hours of sleep and rest than I used to. I can party at 4am with Grayson, get up two hours later to get us both ready for the day, and drop her off and get to work with only being 15 minutes late. This is with zero help from my husband because he has to be at work at 5am. This is a super woman power. Then I think of my co-worker who has three kids that does all that and more, or even of my mom in the past. They are even more impressive.
I actually like kids.
Before Grayson, I was a no-kids preaching woman. No kids for me. Never. That obviously changed. When I was pregnant I still couldn’t stand being around other small children. This scared me to death. Post-Grayson, I want to say hi and smile and hug every small child I see. This urge gets even stronger when I’m gone for a weekend away from Gray Baby. Gimme all the babies!
Marriage gets tougher.
No one warned me that marriage would get tougher after I gave birth. Instead, I had to shyly ask other moms if they had experienced what I was feeling. I got a yes from the majority. My husband is great (obviously, or I wouldn’t be married to him). However, trying to keep a tiny human alive while managing my career, health, hobbies, friends, and sanity in addition to being a wife was and still is tough to do. It was even harder at the beginning when I had no clue what I was doing. Throw in breastfeeding and I could barely stand the man to whom I vowed to stay with forever. Thankfully, things get easier and better.
Love takes on a different meaning.
I thought loving Grayson would be on the same spectrum of loving my two dogs. Seriously. Especially while pregnant, I would hug both of our rescue dogs and cry because I loved them so much. That love doesn’t even compare to what I feel for Grayson. I can look at her and cry because the pride I feel for creating this beautiful tiny human is so overwhelming. I want to show her off and keep her to myself at the same time. It’s the type of love that makes me understand the lengths parents will go to keep their children safe and protected.
Lastly, I learned that it’s ok to fail and feel like a horrible mom. Feeling that way means you care and want to be the best mother you can be. Am I perfect? Absolutely not. Do I try? Most days. Would I do it all over again? Absolutely.
