The longest sleep I had in the early weeks was less than a two-hour stretch. I was so sore and in so much pain and healing from the complications. I decided that I wasn’t going to scrimp on painkillers. I was scared to go to the bathroom, I felt incredibly sensitive and vulnerable down there, so I also wasn’t eating as much. I was an unsure new mom and didn’t know what to do with this delicate, precious baby that unbelievably came out of me. “Just enjoy it” was the most annoying unsolicited advice I heard. I thought, how cruel. How could they expect me to enjoy when I’m simply just trying to survive?
Sleep while the baby sleeps, they said. One of the biggest parenting paradoxes. This baby only stays asleep for 10 minutes when not held. He could sleep for hours while carried and cuddled. I didn’t mind, I just didn’t sleep. Being attached to him gave me comfort and safety, and he probably felt the same.
Ironically, those sleepless nights that I thought would fade away just as the newborn fog lifted; those precious silent wee hours in the morning that I held my baby in my arms, nursed, sang, bounced and rocked him while the rest of the world was asleep, us content in our little bubble not a care in the world, is one of my favorite memories.
I have very little by way of other memories. One that stands out is my inability to recognize the person that came out of the hospital that day. Yes, I didn’t know who I was. Maybe I still don’t. Who is she? A woman who had a different life before she delivered this baby, but now is everything to this tiny fragile being that came out of her.
For the longest time I feared having a family. I was convinced that having kids meant trading in my success (how presumptuous of me) or my lifestyle which I loved and enjoyed. I wasn’t sure I wanted that. I didn’t want to give up the status quo, I didn’t want to disrupt the trajectory. But now knowing that I am capable of this “down to my soul and core” kind of love, I realize that my fear is misplaced and stems from a myopic, narrow and restricted view of myself. Motherhood is not a tradeoff. I just had very little faith in my capacity and potential. If there is this boundless depth in our hearts to love our babies, there is infinite room to shape, create, and dare to be. Motherhood is by far the best thing I have ever done in my life, a role that I am so proud of.
On one of those gentle quiet moments I cradled my son to sleep, the most transformative realization came to me. The discovery felt wonderful. My body tingled like I stumbled on a secret. While motherhood is a beloved and treasured role, it is nevertheless a role; one of many roles that every woman can have, should they desire. Adding on motherhood to a woman’s arsenal of roles does not negate all the other roles they had before motherhood, and does not incapacitate or disqualify them from adopting other roles that they can dream of.
I am deeply grateful of this amazing gift from my son. Through him, I know myself a little bit more. He helped open up my mind and heart to my infinite power to be and to love.
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