matrescence
like adolescence, but instead of your period you get a person. and also your period.
Six months ago I became a mother.
Six months ago I became somebody’s mother.
I waddled into the hospital for a routine test on a Friday and became a new person three days later. Maybe one day I’ll share the story of that weekend, the ups, downs, and gory details. Another time.
Birth is traumatic on a good day, but becoming a mother is wild ride.
You take classes, you prepare, you picture how your new life will be. And even as prepped as you are, even if you’re from a massive family and spent your life around babies (hello, hi, its me), there is nothing like being in it.
Birth is the largest hormonal change a person goes through. It isn’t a dip, it’s a drop. A freefall. Off a cliff. A big cliff. And you feel it. I’m normally a person with a lot of feelings, but I was crying near constantly. Everything made me cry. Being away from her, watching her breathe, being able to eat soft cheese again — tears.
Thinking about how long I’d been away from my dog and how we didn’t get to do the special “Rocket gets all his favorite things before his world is turned upside down” day we had planned (did I mention baby came early?) — sobbing.
Beneath that hormone crash, other changes happen too. I’ve found a resolve I didn’t have before. I’ve advocated for her, but I’ve also learned to better advocate for myself and my needs. I’ve asked for help (eldest daughter). I’ve said no (eldest daughter). In some ways, I feel like I’ve reached my final form, with all the strength and fervor that brings. In other ways, I’m just a kid myself (I’m 36).
Growth is weird. And exciting. And terrifying. And rewarding. And fucking hard.
But its beautiful. Tragic and violent, but beautiful. Caterpillar, chrysalis, butterfly.
Life is different now. I am different now. Or am I the same person, different font?
I miss sleeping in and not having to think about someone else immediately, but then she smiles that perfect gummy smile at me and I melt.
I miss bopping out real quick for an errand, and then I look at those 10 perfect toes, gripping the carpet for purchase as she attempts the death defying feat of rolling from her belly to her back over her left shoulder.
There are some days where I am so over being touched that my skin is crawling, but then she giggles or belly laughs and I scoop her into my arms.
I miss my life before, but I am so happy to be in this new after.
Last night, I sat on the glider while she fell asleep in her crib. It was taking longer than usual and right as I prepared to pick her up and comfort her, she started singing. Or the best attempt a 6-month-old can make. But we sing lullabies before bed and she was soothing herself. I was so proud of her, my heart was full in a way I hadn’t known possible. In the before times we would have been out at a bar or to dinner with friends, but out late and living wild.
Adolescence is a whirlwind of changes. A rollercoaster of hormones and growing body parts and new thoughts and worries. Matrescence is similar. Some call it the fourth trimester, that first chunk of time postpartum when you and baby are learning everything. But where coming of age is talked about, that feeling of finding yourself in motherhood is not. There were weeks where I couldn’t remember the last time I showered, but could tell you the last time of every diaper, every bottle. There were nights where she fought bedtime until it was too late for me to have any wind down time myself, just crawling into the bed hugging the baby monitor. Overtime you learn to take care of both of you, yourself and baby.
I miss who I was; I love who I’m becoming; I have no idea who I am.
I’m so grateful to be going through this journey at a time where more and more women are sharing their struggles and successes. The women in my life who’ve offered advice and shoulders during this time mean the world to me. My village, my people.
It’s also a terrifying time as women’s rights are continually under attack. I would have fought for myself, but I will go to the ends of the world for her and her future.
While I know some changes I needed to make for her, I am grateful for what she has inspired in me. I’m so excited to see her grow and become herself and cannot wait to see the world through her eyes.
There’s a lot kept secret about pregnancy and motherhood. There’s a lot I still have yet to experience and learn. I’m just grateful to do it with this Nugget.
Goo goo, ga ga, and what not.