Breathe In, Breathe Out...

I wrote this post when Connor was 20 months old...so, basically, a long time ago. I had posted it on my old blog but wanted to share. I hope there's something in here that you're able to connect with and take with you on your parenting journey. XOXO, Meg

Take a deep breath mama…there you go, 1…2…3.  Yeah, I think I may need to take another one or ten before I start to feel all Namaste. It’s a Friday morning and instead of thinking TGIF, I’m walking into work frazzled and battle weary after dueling with my 30 pound blonde ball of energy. Who knew putting on a pair of Velcro shoes and a winter coat required so much “negotiation?” And as I’m deep breathing away the stress and heaviness that’s settled on my chest, I’m left wondering, is this what motherhood is supposed to feel like?

I remember what I thought it’d feel like, way back when I was pregnant and excited that I was even getting to become a mommy. I’d daydream about laying on our comfy blue recliner, baby on my chest, the two of us snuggling or napping and feeling cozy and connected. Even now, it sounds heavenly. Sure, there were times doubt and sheer terror creeped in, reminding me that sometimes it’s not all good in the motherhood. But those thoughts were easily pushed aside each time I felt a swift kick to the inside of my belly, bringing me back to my lazy, snuggly fantasy. It wasn’t that I was naïve. I just wasn’t a mother yet.

And now, twenty-two months later, I often feel like I’m just surviving. The first time I experienced this in connection to parenting, I was bleary eyed, covered in breastmilk and holding the back of my johnny closed as I scurried to the bathroom of my postpartum hospital room. I looked in the mirror and wondered where my “I survived the first night of cluster feeding” t-shirt was.  Since then, there have been countless moments where I’ve looked within and wondered the same thing. Through sleep regressions, going back to work, learning how to co-parent, teething, hitting, biting, the weekday morning routine, entering toddlerhood and of course, putting on a pair of shoes and a winter coat, I’ve been left feeling exhausted, unsure of myself and that I just needed to keep on keeping on.

But I’ve come to discover that in surviving, there’s empowerment. In the first two weeks of my son’s life, I silently wanted to stop breastfeeding. I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I wanted to do it. I was tired and sweaty and sore from a blocked duct and just wanted to shower without my kid screaming for more boobie.  But I stayed with it, I survived it and then came to a place where I was able to say and more importantly feel I’ve got this. For as many mommy moments that I’ve felt I had survived, there have been so many more where I’ve been able to hold onto that feeling of I’ve got this.

 And so on this particular Friday morning, I’m left with the distinct feeling that yes, this is what motherhood is supposed to feel like-at times unfocused, stressed, exhausted and like I’m just surviving. But once I’m able to deep breathe through the stress, I’m able to take comfort in the fact that these aren’t the only things motherhood is supposed to feel like. There’s joy and love and confidence and connection-with other mothers and with my little love.

As my son quickly approaches the “terrible twos,” I know enough about kids to know I don’t know everything.  But I do know that if I can remember the hard feelings I have about myself  during challenging moments will pass, I’ll be able to see that I’ve got this. And when it’s a little bit harder to remember that, it’s okay to just keep on keeping on.