Some days I don’t really feel like a Mom.
Right now my entire life feels the way that I felt the first time I heard my voice on tape – There’s NO WAY THAT THAT IS ME!
Don’t get me wrong, I always wanted to be a mom. I used to tell people that I was born in the wrong decade because I want to be the SAHM who’s house always smells like something yummy and who decorates for random holidays. I wanted to be the mom that the working moms trusted their kids with. I wanted to have the house you called when you were looking for your child – of course Johnny and/or Susie is here! We’re all playing football in the front yard while the pies cool!
That was going to be me. Hopefully some version of that will still be me. I do want to give Tiny Tyrant the childhood that I always wanted. (Don’t we all?)
But there’s this other person. Before Mama I was just me. I stayed up all night reading and then had to caffeinate myself through the day. I drank gin and vodka with fun mixers. I went to beer fests and tried fun flavors like chipotle chocolate stout. I was the girl standing outside the bar with a cigarette talking to the bouncers because none of my friends smoked, but I didn’t care. I spent money on stupid things because it was my money and I could. None of those are things that I regret and all of them are things that I miss.
Yes, I love my son. I love him in a way that I didn’t realize was possible. Loving him has made me more – but it has also made me less. I am less of the person I was before him in ways that are just now fully sinking in.
Smoking used to be a way for me to hit the pause button on my life. It was an excuse to step out – of the house, of the bar, of the office, of wherever I was and whatever was going on. Very few of my friends smoke, so it was also a way to be alone for a minute or an hour. Smoking with my coffee and a book or with a drink on a night out – those are things that I miss so much that it feels almost ridiculous. I never made a commitment to myself or anyone else to quit. I just did it without thinking. I do feel now that if I start again I will never be able to stop. I also know how bad even breathing in smoke from my clothes is for my son, so I’m fighting it. But damn.
The caffeine, the free time, the ability to not have my breasts feel full and sore every three hours. The option to throw on something pretty and go hang out at the coolest little cocktail bar in town. The comfort of turning to DD in the middle of the night, or jumping him when he gets home from work.
This change, this gift, this amazing miracle in my life that has made us a family and has made me a mother is slowly starting to fully sink in. As much as I embrace it there is a part of me that I need to say goodbye to and a life that I need the space to mourn. While I’ll eventually go out again and stop pumping and our sex life will return it will never be the way it was. Most of the time that’s a great thing.
But sometimes I miss the old me.