From the moment the pregnancy test little screen announces it, your life is forever changed. In my case, I did not really believe it. I wanted to have ultrasound appointment, the bloodwork done and even then, I think I was in such shock that it took me more than a few weeks to realize it.
Even though it was a very conscious decision and I was about to celebrate my 33th birthday, it still felt deep down I was being rushed. When you turn 35, apparently, your ovaries turn into pumpkins and you are no longer able to get to the palace and dance happily ever after (or so everyone tells you). There is even a term for the “unlikely” event that you dare get pregnant after this age: geriatric pregnancy. I mean… what?
To be perfectly honest, my pregnancy was 98% smooth and happy. When you start hearing all the things that can go wrong, or uncomfortable, or plane terrifying, you really start to be grateful for your situation. Still, I think growing another human inside your body is HARD, to say the least. At the same time, it is beautiful and extremely weird.
Then, the birth comes. You can read all the books you want, consult every doula and/or midwife there is, get ready with prenatal classes and pelvic floor exercises. You will never be able to imagine what is to come. No, not even if all your friends are moms and you have patiently heard all their stories (the good ones and the really bad ones).
I guess it is true that women are designed to forget the pain. From what I recall, the birth of my son was a magical passage between the spirit world and the physical world, where I am quite sure I was guided and supported by energies or light entities you could definitely not see at first glance. The memory becomes blurry, but the beauty of it never fades. My delivery was absolutely a joyous occasion. Without a doubt, the most powerful (and empowering) experience of my life.
Now, will I do it again? Instead of answering, I will just go back to my earlier pregnancy comment: My birth experience was very good and yet, I think helping your baby come out of your body is NOT EASY.
Here is where it gets tricky. I thought I was done with the hardest part, right? I passed the test of pregnancy and delivery with flying colors… but oh boy, was I wrong. This is, of course, my personal and totally unique experience. It in no way has to resemblance anyone else’s. Now, having cleared that up, I must say that breastfeeding was not something that came naturally for me. That is just one part of everything postpartum involves. That crazy roller-coaster hormones and the simple fact that you know realize you have a whole brand new human being under your care is, well… it is difficult to cope.
All of that research, the extreme naiveté of thinking you were actually more or less prepared comes crashing down savagely. I just kept regretting not looking into what I now know it commonly referred to as the “fourth trimester”. My first though was: Why did no one warn me about this? The lack of sleep is one thing, but the cracked bleeding nipples and that feeling of despair? Granted, the rough part for me lasted only a couple of weeks, but how about all those mothers that keep feeling like that for months on end.
Of course, being a part of a good team is key to getting your head above the water again. However, fatherhood and motherhood are different experiences. There are times when your partner can do everything from keeping you hydrated while you breastfeed, staying up all night together and all the skin to skin with the baby while you try to rest, and even then, he knows you have it far worse. There, I said it.
My son is 3 years and 10 months old now and I can say that every stage has been as exciting as exhausting, as bursting with love as deeply challenging. The thing is, I would not change it for the world (as cliché as it sounds).
Becoming a mother is also the dead of your former self and, subsequently, the birth of your mother self. This is not a smooth or comfortable process. It takes everything from you and gives you so much you did not even know you wanted. Motherhood is as devastating as eye-opening, as rough as tender, as soul crushing as glorious. I will tell you what it never is: boring. The constant discovery and rediscovery of your own self reflected on your child’s eyes is nothing but majestic.
When someone asks me what the hardest part of mothering is, I always give the same answer: to be constantly faced with yourself, your triggers (to be willing to explore them), your unhealed wounds and your hidden trauma. Your child is here to shine a light in the parts where you have yet to love yourself fiercely, often the most difficult to look at.
