Tears streamed down the sides of my face as my eyes adjusted to the light in the operating room. Just minutes before I was wheeled out of the delivery room where I had been labouring for the previous 22 hours and where it was dark and quiet. My body shook uncontrollably and my teeth chattered, though, I don’t remember feeling cold. All of a sudden, I was terrified - not because I was about to have a cesarean, but because in the matter of a single moment my life would change forever. I was about to become a Mother.
In the operating room, there was a parade of unrecognizable faces - some clustered at the foot of the gurney, and some moving around my head. I could hear voices, but couldn’t settle on what anyone was saying. I darted my eyes around looking for my husband, but all I saw were nurses and doctors.
After some time, my husband appeared at my side and held my hand. It was about to happen. Was it already happening? From my position, lying on my back, all I could see were heads bobbing up and down over the blue curtain that divided the part of my body that I could feel from the part I couldn’t.
And then I heard her cry. And it was real.
And, I cried. And at that moment the fear evaporated.
I remember there was some bustling behind the curtain and then someone came and placed my baby on my chest. She was real. My baby girl was in the world, beautiful and alive and well.
The hours and days afterward all blurred together. The only thing separating day from night was the amount of light coming through the windows. Nothing can prepare you, as a first-time parent, for the sleep deprivation in those weeks (or month) after birth. I remember only snapshots of time in the hospital, some faces, but names, details and the order in which events occurred have all escaped.
During our time in the hospital, I watched as my husband’s paternal instincts kicked in so immediate and unyielding. He was born to be a Dad.
Me? I went through the motions. I felt void and mechanic. I was recovering physically, but struggling mentally - from the trauma of the labour, but more than that. I was also grieving the change - from being pregnant to not - and it took months for my mind to catch up to my body. In the weeks after birth, I had an overwhelming feeling that I just wanted to be pregnant again.
It was a confusing time. I was in love, grateful, mourning, and longing all in the same space, and my emotions just seemed to shut down so I could deal with the new reality in front of me.
It’s hard to imagine that the baby I hold in my arms was once growing inside me. Our baby (B.) is six months old, now, and I am humbled by the love I feel for her. Every day I fall deeper in, and every day I can't believe there's further to fall.
She wakes up bright and early chattering away in her crib, and she makes the biggest gummy smile when she sees one of us come to pick her up. “Good morning! I love you!”
When she’s getting hungry she gives me a flirty look and smiles big. Her eyes follow me everywhere and she’ll even poke her little head around Dad’s shoulder when he’s holding her just so she can see me.
She sits up on her own and is perfectly content entertaining herself as she rolls and wiggles around the living room floor. She’s moments away from crawling, as she lifts her head and chest high off the floor and tucks her knees to her belly with her bum in the air. She just started doing this wave with her body like a caterpillar, only backward. Once she coordinates all the motions we’ll have a crawler on our hands.
Recently, I came home from an appointment and when I walked through the door I heard, “Mama,” coming from the living room. Whether she knew what she was saying or not is up for debate, but my husband and I both heard it.
When she’s on the brink of falling asleep she starts to smile this little side smile and then sticks her tongue out, just slightly, and when she’s finally asleep she makes these gentle suckling motions and I joke that she’s dreaming of breastmilk.
She changes so quickly, and I’m worried that I’ll blink and miss something. I don’t want to forget a second. Each new development brings so much joy and excitement, and loss, as well. Every onesie that doesn’t fit reminds me just how fleeting time truly is.
This time is precious and I’m working hard on creating boundaries to protect it.
My husband was home with us for the first month and a half after B. was born, which allowed us the space to grow together as a family, and allowed me the time I needed to heal my body. When he went back to work he was away for 15 hours a day, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to manage on my own.
But, I did manage, and after a while, I started to feel like I was doing more than simply manage - I was doing great. From the get-go, I gave myself the grace of space and having zero expectations. My goals each day were: feed my baby, change her diapers, engage with her when she was awake, feed myself, and bathe myself. Anything over and above that was a bonus.
I found that each day I was able to accomplish a little more, and a little more. I started taking B. and our pup for walks and got courageous enough to make trips to the grocery store. Sometimes I would get to the automatic sliding doors at the entrance of the mall just to turn back to the car to nurse her. Or, I would get into the mall and immediately have to change her diaper, even though I had changed her diaper right before we left the house.
An aside: I did not realize how un-parent-friendly the public washrooms or most stores are until I tried to get around with a baby in a stroller.
Eventually, a routine emerged, and I was able to do some light baking and even cook healthy dinners most nights. If I had dinner on the stove and B. had a meltdown, then I turned the burners off, and my husband would have to finish cooking when he got home.
Some days I was able to get to my computer, so I started writing in bits (usually in the mornings when my mental capacity was crisper). That’s when I started writing this post (over four months ago), and that, my friends, is just the reality of life with a newborn. Overall, I was enjoying finding our groove together, just the two of us.
And then COVID-19 happened.
About a month and a half after my husband went back to work our Government declared a state of emergency and told everyone to stay home. In many ways, life as a new mother felt just like life in quarantine, so things were OK for a while. We stopped making trips to the grocery store, and we weren’t getting visitors anymore.
I wanted to keep the integrity of this piece purely about becoming a mother and not about the coronavirus, but I struggled to reflect on these past few months without mentioning the impact this pandemic has had on my experience. Each time I sat down to write I tried picking up where I left off, but those words felt distant, and the longer we stayed in quarantine the more the feelings of isolation and disconnection weighed heavy on me.
The reality is I cannot separate my experience of becoming a mother from the months in quarantine - it’s been half of the experience, so far, and has created the greatest challenge for me. I stopped leaving the house, except to walk my dog around our neighbourhood. We went nowhere, and we saw no one for quite some time. My husband was only home for a couple hours a night before it was time to go to bed, and he was taking a day off every 13 days.
The isolation a first-time parent might naturally experience has intensified during this pandemic and access to the typical resources for finding and connecting with a new community has been demolished. I tried all the things to stay connected, but it didn’t matter how many FaceTime calls or Zoom parties I attended - I’ve been missing human connection; deep meaningful connection.
Our first attempts at physical distance visits felt cold and I couldn’t help but cry for the majority of the time. Visits through the window, or where I couldn’t hug my family or let them hold B. hurt on a different level.
While B. is such a happy baby, my husband and I can’t help but wonder if the lack of interaction will affect her, as her physical contact has been limited to only the two of us for over half of her life, so far.
Even now, with the loosening of restrictions, and having my husband join me on parental leave, I still feel a degree of disconnectedness. It’s been a struggle to navigate how to move forward and open up our bubble when there are so many factors to consider, especially when it comes to B. I know it starts with having honest conversations and hoping for understanding regarding the decisions we make to protect our family.
We’re all figuring out life amid a global pandemic, determining what is best for us and our families, and everyone is simply doing what they can to get by. I know some people very close to me are dealing with things beyond the pandemic that make the need for focusing inward paramount at this moment. I want to be there for them, and I’ll be honest - I’m not sure how. Everyone is dealing in their own way, and instead of judging ourselves and others, I think we all need a little more grace.
So, I’m letting myself feel without judgment. I’m working on turning isolation into opportunity and the feelings of disconnection into motivation for connecting better with myself, and my little family. I’m embracing and honoring each moment by being grateful for all that we have.
Some Things I’m Grateful For
MY BODY
I am more in love with my body than I ever have been. I grew another human being inside my body for ten months…that still takes my breath away.
Before I was pregnant (a long hard journey all on its own) I struggled with chronic pain, and I didn’t have a very good relationship with my body. While I can’t say those days are over I can say that my perspective has changed. Once I started taking care of my body first, ensuring I got the rest I needed, and putting my health above other stressors in my life - my hopes of becoming pregnant finally became a reality. Being pregnant, and growing a baby allowed me to love my body as it is - beautiful and majestic.
And, how amazing is it that my body responds to my baby? My arms grow stronger as she grows. I know when it’s time to feed her because I feel it in my breasts. I love that I’m able to feed her with my body and it just does the work without me even having to try.
This body grew life. This body brought life into this world, and this body feeds another human being. My body is amazing.
FOOD IS THE BEST GIFT
I am grateful for the food that we received. In the beginning we were sleep deprived and just trying to survive the day. Planning or cooking meals was tough, so when people offered to bring us food - we gladly accepted. We ate anything and everything brought to us. Ready-made food with the least amount of cleanup was exactly what we needed.
THE PEOPLE IN OUR BUBBLE
The people we have around us are so important, and the decisions we make are crucial in ensuring that everyone remains safe and healthy as we move into this next phase of the pandemic. We are blessed to have so much love in our lives, and I know the re-unions will all be that much more cherished when we can come back together.
PARENTAL LEAVE**
We live in a time where it is not only possible for both parents to take leave, but also when men are supported to play an equal role in the family. We planned for this time (not covid related) to allow our family to grow and learn together, and so we could make sure these precious moments are not taken for granted. These are not moments we can get back, and I’m grateful that we get to spend them together.
**I understand this is a privilege that not every family can afford.
There have been so many beautiful things that have come from such an uncertain and downright scary time: we get to be home together as a family, and we get to experience life through the eyes of our beautiful baby girl.
We’re being extra creative with using the items in our pantry, and we have significantly decreased our food waste (which was already a goal of mine).
My husband has a thriving vegetable garden growing in the raised beds he built, and I’ve have had some time to finish some art and home decor projects I’ve had on the go.
And, we’ve had the space to really slow down and focus inward. This gift of time is not something that we get to experience in the rat race of “regular” life. This was something I was hoping parental leave would offer us, but perhaps the pandemic has augmented just how important it is to really slow down, reflect, evaluate priorities and move forward better and kinder.
Some Learnings I’d Like To Share
Becoming a mother is not easy, so don’t be fooled by Social Media. Each one of us faces our own challenges and struggles, and those occasions are not often captured in a photograph and shared for the world to see. While the struggles I face might look different than yours - know that I’ve spent my fair share of moments crying on my shower floor feeling helpless, desperate, and hopeless. I’m definitely guilty of posting the “highlights” just as much as the next person (how often do you pull your phone out to take a photo in the middle of a meltdown?) I do not expect this journey to be easy, but I am doing my best to walk this path with ease.
I lean into my instincts and follow my gut, and the more I do that the stronger my instincts become.
I’ve learned that when I’m faced with a challenge the more I dwell on the challenge itself the more I struggle. My goal is to overcome each challenge with as much ease as possible, so I do my best to focus on the solutions. I take a minute of frustration, and I may talk it out way too much (working on that), but I like to face an issue head-on and then move on. Applying this tactic to the challenges I face as a new parent has proven to be a good approach.
I’m not perfect and I’m learning as I go.
On Becoming a Mother
I wasn’t sure I’d get this experience, and every day I wake up I am grateful that I was able to get pregnant in the first place and now I get to witness this beautiful being grow in this world. It’s everything and nothing like I expected, and so much more.
I didn’t take the decision to become a mother lightly. I knew my priorities would shift, and I was in a place in my life where I could embrace that wholeheartedly. The challenges we faced throughout our journey to get here really forced both my husband and I to consider how much we wanted a child in our life, and to determine how far we would go to make that a reality. Through our story, she will know how much she is wanted, and she will know just how much she is loved.
I will protect her fiercely and unapologetically. It is my responsibility to raise her with intention and awareness, and to show her how to love herself and how to love others.
I’m living, eating, and speaking with more intention. I’m motivated by new purpose and my thoughts, words, and actions are filtered through a new lens: for my daughter.
I am on a new journey, and there was a time I thought I would have to shed my maiden self in order to become a mother, and instead I’m realizing that my new way of being is more like the shifting of seasons where I simply put on another layer, like a coat in winter, as I move into this phase of being a Mother.
Photos Courtesy of: Paraphrase Photography