When I started college I had a plan. It wasn't much of a plan and it was mostly-go with the flow and see what happens. But, nowhere in that plan did I include becoming a mother. My first thought when I found out I was pregnant was "I've never even changed a diaper." Not excitement or fear or anger or happiness, just straight up cluelessness. I forget to eat or shower myself sometimes, how the hell was I supposed to remember to feed and take care of another human being.
Once I was out of college, my only plan was to get a job. I had thought a lot about marriage and buying a house, but again, I had not put having children high on my list of things to do. My boyfriend, now my husband, and I had talked a lot about getting a dog. We looked into different housing options that would allow us to have a dog. We looked into adopting a dog. We decided on several breeds that we would want. We did our homework. What we got instead was a baby.
When people said that our life as we knew it was over, I knew they were right. What I didn't know was that they meant it in every sense of the word. Emotionally, physically, and mentally my life has changed. Emotionally I feel more love, compassion and warmth. I also got something unexpected though-anger. I've never been an angry person. I've always let things just roll off my shoulders, never let little things bug me. But once I was in my second trimester of pregnancy, I wanted to kill most people. It was almost like all the anger I should've felt throughout my life pre-pregnancy was now coming rushing out. I have road rage. "Fuck you" and "asshole" are now part of my everyday vocabulary. My middle finger has become a very powerful tool. Even though I am not very religious I find myself apologizing to God after I have my anger spouts.
Physically I have changed. Things have shifted and morphed, stretched and relocated. I used to be proud of my nether regions and other womanly parts. Now I am terrified to see myself naked. I thought I was curvy before with child bearing hips. Now I have several children bearing hips. I have what I like to call "mom butt"-it is taller than it is wide, reaching the middle of my back instead of stopping at my hips. Half way through my third trimester I thought I would get away with minimal stretch marks, until one day they seemed to magically quadruple. It now looks like I have flames crawling up the front of my belly. If I am not careful, some of my pants give me a nice Walmart FUPA.
Most of all I have changed mentally. I wonder sometimes if I'm still sane. Other days I think I got it all together and will be alright. Some days I get the mommy blues while others I am so overwhelmed with joy that I think my life will momentarily breakout into a happy musical with people singing and dancing on tables and a parade will come marching through my apartment. My first thought in the morning isn't about coffee and breakfast for myself. It's about poopy diapers and her breakfast. I don't decide what to wear while I am in the shower because I am too busy listening to whether or not I have a screaming baby in the other room. Instead of finding an outfit that makes my butt look nice while still looking professional, I look for something that won't give me a FUPA and that can be changed easily in the event of a poop splatter. My entire day revolves around her. I even find myself talking in third person, saying "Mommy needs a shower", "Mommy loves you", "Mommy needs a happy pill today."
I am enjoying being a mother, but I have to wonder, will I ever get the non-mother part back? Or is she perpetually lost in the world of mommyhood? Will my wardrobe change? Will my body ever try to correct itself? Will I ever get the chance to get drunk and say something stupid again? Will I ever be as entertained by anything as I am with her? Is it possible to love another child as much as I love her? These are all things I ponder everyday. Where did pre-pregnancy me go?
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