Before becoming a mother, I was the kind of person who enjoyed doing things alone. Whether it was going out to eat, going to see a movie, or for a long walk through the woods or along a beach, I wasn’t the kind of person to wait for other people’s schedules to line up with mine. There are a lot of people out there unable to do things alone, that definitely wasn’t me.
Since becoming a mother, there isn’t much I get to do alone.
My daughter and I co-sleep, co-bathe, I eat with her on my lap, there are even days where I wear my fussy girl around our apartment and go to the bathroom with her attached to my chest.
I’ve learned that being a parent means we don’t get time to ourselves, if we’re lucky, we can steal mere moments.
We co-exist with these very clingy, adorable babies. They’re like adorable love and attention seeking leeches, attached to us every moment of the day in one way or the other. When they aren’t attached to us physically, mentally we can’t shake them.
All the time I spend away from my daughter, my mind is completely filled with her.
“Is she okay?” “How is she coping alone with my husband?” “I hope he doesn’t fall sleep with her on his chest, he moves too much.” “Is she happy?” “Has she been crying the whole time I’ve been gone?”
I’m told this is normal for your first. I suppose by your second kid, you just don’t have the energy left to constantly be wrapped around them.
How has co-existing with my beautiful bundle of fussiness been?
Exhausting. I am forgetting what actual sleep is. My body is worn. Every inch of me aches in one way or another. My hormones are on a roller coaster and I find myself praying to whatever deity will listen that she will nap, then when she is sleeping mere inches from me, I can’t help but miss her.
Being a parent is weird, and new, and there is no map to show you the right way to do it.
That being said, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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