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Food For Thought life Self Love and Personal Growth

Grieving the Past

It’s recently occurred to me that I’ve been unknowingly grieving my old life before the pandemic started and before becoming a mom. Not because I want to go back and change anything, but because life changed so abruptly and seriously in multiple ways. I never felt like I had time to stop and reflect on it. I had one positive test, and I couldn’t stop throwing up. One positive test, and every smell or step at work depleted me. One positive test, and I couldn’t eat anything. Then, add a pandemic on top of the whole pregnancy thing. And then, add moving back to your hometown and finishing your last class of college alongside being pregnant in a pandemic. Life came at me fast.

So when I left college, I didn’t treat my departure as an ending, as if I was never coming back. I never said goodbye to anyone. I never got to look back and close that chapter of my life. I didn’t even get to cross the stage in a cap and gown to signify the end of my college career. I assumed I would get to go back because I had to get the rest of my items. I assumed I would be able to say goodbye and introduce my baby to everyone who touched my life. I assumed covid would be over by the time I gave birth. I assumed I had time to fully, mentally close that chapter of my life.

Time has told, all of those assumptions were wrong. I still haven’t been able to make it back, despite plans to go. Suddenly, I put a pause in my career and eventually went in a new direction. Suddenly, I was no longer a student. Suddenly, the dynamics of all the friendships and relationships I made, changed. Let’s be real. It has been two years since the start of the pandemic and we have all changed since it began.

Grieving is weird. I’m sure you’ve heard, it’s a five step process. It can occur out of thin air and last for ages. It’s not linear, meaning we can jump back and forth between the different stages. Most of the times I have heard or seen it, it has been associated with the death of a loved one. But that’s not the only time we grieve. When anything ends- a relationship, a career path, a life path, an idea or plan we are passionate about- we grieve. We may not experience every step, or experience it very deeply, but it’s still a grieving process.

I am starting to understand that my grief has been presenting as anxiety. I’ve looked back at my college years, and worried I wasn’t present or fun enough, worried I wasn’t vulnerable or expressive enough. I worried I didn’t show my appreciation or cherish the moment enough. I’ve cringed at stupid and embarrassing situations I’ve put myself in or reacted to. I’ve missed the community that comes with college life. The freedom of not having a kid. The times I spent with friends and coworkers, even the ones where our relationships have ended. I’ve missed the moments I wish I could relive again and again so I never forget the feeling.

And being nostalgic about those memories makes me nostalgic and existential in general because life changes and moves so fast and you don’t even realize it until you’re in the future. Like my daughter has met people I have known for ten or more years. It’s a trippy experience to realize how much time goes by. My baby is almost two years old! It’s already been two years since I graduated college, since I left Vegas, since I was pregnant, and it has just recently began to feel like Vegas is my past. And that’s what makes grieving and nostalgia so weird, because in that grief state (especially in my case which was mixed with a little postpartum, post grad, pandemic depression), time flies by but it doesn’t seem like we are moving with it.

A loss isn’t always a loss- it can be a good thing. And that makes grieving weird. Because grieving brings about feelings of nostalgia. It makes you reminisce about the past, even if you’re happy with your present and excited about your future. I grieve the simplicity of life in college and before. I reflect on who I was. Still, I think everything happened for me the way it should’ve. I think I needed to leave Vegas, and I wouldn’t have done it without a push.

Eventually, we stop grieving. Eventually, we catch up. Recently I turned a new leaf. And it was once I accepted where I am now, that I realized I hadn’t accepted it until then. Vegas was my past and now that I am no longer grieving, I can live in the present. I’m not who I was before the baby, the pandemic, and graduating college and other people aren’t the same either. Changing, growing, getting older, grieving, and reminiscing is all a part of life.

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Food For Thought life Self Love and Personal Growth

Turning a New Leaf

I’ve spent the months since covid first started two years ago, the months since I was pregnant, the months since I became a new mom, the months since I’ve graduated college, the months of entering adulthood, really the months of entering the “real world” moving back and forth between a headspace full of anxiousness and depressing thoughts and feeling at peace and confident with myself.

There have been, and probably will truthfully continue to be, days when I want to keep to myself. Days I overthink too much about everything. Days I worry about the ways of the world and the future for my daughter. Days I worry about my future. Days when I’m irritable and easily over simulated. Days when I feel like I’m not enough. Days when I feel alone.

But right now, in these few weeks, in this moment, something’s changed. Recently, I turned a new leaf because I finally have a therapist/coach, after two plus years of leaving that on my to-do list, to help me work through my baggage and to heal for both me and my daughter. Recently, I turned a new leaf, because I left the job that made me feel misunderstood, anxious, overworked, and under-appreciated. Recently, I turned a new leaf because my confidence boosted and I started to feel beautiful and more like myself again.

With me, feelings come in waves. And though right now, things are looking up, I recognize that one day, hopefully in the distant future, I’ll probably start feeling down again. So right now, I’m basking in the sun and embracing the wave of contentment, confidence, and appreciation. Appreciation for the people in my life who have stuck around and reached out to me, even when I’m not the easiest to talk to. Appreciation for my new job where I work longer hours but feel stable, uplifted, supported, and valued. Appreciation for my little girl who constantly manages to surprise me. Appreciation for my family who always helps me when I need it. Appreciation for my life and the little things I experience day by day.

I say all of this to say that even if things are horrible or at least feel horrible right now, it doesn’t mean it will always be. And even though we may not be the same and our situations might not be the same, it couldn’t hurt to remember life happens in stages and chapters. What we feel and experience today, we may not in a year, a month, a week, a day, or an hour. Though there are many factors of our life that are uncontrollable and there’s nuances to everything, sometimes situations or even our thoughts and feelings about said situations have to change for it to feel and be different.

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Children life

Musings of a New Mom

Parenthood is fulfilling. It’s surreal. It’s a blessing. Parenthood is frustrating. And exhausting. And anxiety fueling. Parenting, especially being a mom, is a never ending responsibility. Even when I’m not with her, I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to. And she’s only 10 months old. She’s not even able to leave the house or do anything on her own yet. How will it be in 10 more months? In five years? In ten years?

Being a mom is objectively the most fulfilling lifestyle I’ve incorporated. It’s enhanced my belief in the universe and a higher power. I don’t believe everyone should be a parent, nor that it is everyone’s purpose. I think the conversation about having children is too nuanced for this post, though I touch a little on it here. I do think being a mother is meant to be a part of my journey. Experiencing pregnancy, childbirth, and becoming a parent has given me a new perspective on life. It’s caused me to view other parents in a different light and has made it even easier for me to extend grace to others. It’s similar to how when you’re a child you view adults on a pedestal, looking up to them, only to grow up and realize everyone is really just trying their best and struggling in at least one area of their lives. There’s a different level of understanding of what parenthood is after being an active parent and caretaker.

Something I learned as a parent is that there really isn’t a right way to parent. Objectively there are “wrong” ways, because to a point human development is a science, we experience emotions, and trauma is everlasting, but there is no clear cut, one size fits all, way to parenting. People will shame and judge for minuscule things (like formula versus breast milk) and half of those people won’t even have kids of their own. What’s important is being active, present, and supportive for your child in whatever way works for your lifestyle and family.

Being a mom has given a new meaning to the word sacrifice, especially in the midst of covid. I spent nine months sacrificing my body for her. I’ll spend the rest of my life making decisions I hope benefits both of us. I’ve said “no” to outings I would have otherwise done in a heartbeat. Being a mom has made me more thoughtful and intentional in my actions. It’s made me want and hopefully succeed in being more present in my day to day life and spend less time on my phone and inside my inner world. It’s made me understand and become even more appreciative of the sacrifices and choices my parents have made throughout our lives to give my brother and I the lives they’ve given us.

Parenthood makes me anxious. Because what if one day she just stops breathing when she’s sleeping? (Luckily I think we’re past the SIDS phase). Or what if she hits her head too many times when she’s playing? Or what if I’m not doing enough to teach her and am stifling her development? What if I’m not spending enough time with her? And in this way, parenting really is a sort of projection. It forces you to look at yourself and your fears and your guilt and your boundaries. It forces you to look at how you were raised and decide how you want to parent.

Sometimes, I find myself comparing my daughter’s growth to the babies I’ve seen born around the same time. Sometimes I wonder if other people parent in similar ways than I do or if I’m just completely off mark in some respects. Sometimes, I feel guilty the few times I’m out with friends without her. Sometimes, I wish I had a little more free time and space to be carefree away from responsibilities.

In a few years there has to be studies on the effect the pandemic has made on babies and pregnancy. Being pregnant during a pandemic was experiencing two traumas at once. Being pregnant during a pandemic after graduating college, I could argue was experiencing three. I was experiencing three major changes in my life with little face to face contact with others. It felt like out of nowhere I popped up with a baby because few people actually saw me pregnant. Few people knew until late in my second trimester. And now I have a baby and we’re still in this weird standby with Covid, so few people have seen her in person. One of my friends was asking for more pictures of her, and it’s made me realize outside of social media, I really don’t think to send out pictures or updates of her in texts. I was thinking about why, and it is really for no other reason than the fact that I experienced pregnancy pretty isolated from people outside of my household. And now that the world is sort of opening up and I’m less isolated, I have to link the two realities.

The craziest part about parenting is seeing my little girl develop and do new things she wasn’t doing before. Before having a baby, I have been around babies and toddlers and children, but in their separate stages. I had never seen human development day by day with my own eyes before. Now she’s clapping and trying to stand all the time. She recognizes certain words. She knows her name. In ten plus months my baby went from a solely eating, sleeping, pooping newborn who couldn’t lift her head to a full blown baby who is starting to eat solids, who can crawl, and can sit up and stand by herself. Babies’ development is so drastic in the first year and it’s amazing to see it play out with my own eyes. She’s really growing and learning. She’s really almost a toddler.

Time has been moving so differently since the pandemic and my pregnancy. Sometimes, I worry I will blink and she’ll already be twenty one. She’s only a few months away from being a year, and I still look at her newborn pictures with nostalgia. It feels like it happened so long ago. It makes me want to freeze time.

Around this time (October 27th, 2021), a post has been going around Twitter from a mother who was struggling and unhappy in an attempt to shame her. I don’t have a picture of the post but it was a call for help. She was expressing some regrets and frustration about the reality of motherhood for her. And as parents, specifically mothers, it’s worth mentioning that society doesn’t often extend grace to us the way we deserve. The idea of being a super mom has become propaganda. People use the fact the most of the time motherhood is a choice as a weapon against mothers. People expect mothers to be at the top of their game all the time and to care for their kids without complaint or mentioning how their life has changed. (Please note, they don’t expect the same from fathers though).

Most people don’t genuinely know how or have the thought or time to be supportive of mothers. Unless you yourself are an active parent or caregiver, you will never fully understand that amount of physical, mental, and emotional energy that goes into caring for someone else. (Caring for pets can bring similar feelings but it’s different). And when you’re caring for someone else, you’re also caring for yourself and handling your own responsibilities too. That’s double on your plate, assuming you’re only responsible for one other person. I don’t know how people with multiple babies and toddlers do it. I don’t know how truly single mothers do it. I don’t know how teen mothers do it. I have newfound respect for parents and caregivers honestly. I can’t stress that enough.

It sucks that mothers, including myself, feel the need to shower the benefits of motherhood before talking about the harder parts. Why do we have to have the disclaimer– My kid is the best thing that has happened to me– before saying it hurt when she head butted me in the mouth while throwing a tantrum and caused my lip to bleed. Why do we feel so shamed to talk about the frustrations of raising and guiding another human being? Parenting is hard! You have to look at yourself and your boundaries and remember that your baby or toddler isn’t intentionally being harmful when they do hurtful things. One minute my baby is cute and precious and the next she’s testing my patience. I roll my eyes at every tantrum and cherish every moment of affection. No matter how she acts, I still love her the same and will always love her with my entire heart.

Being a parent is a living oxymoron. When she’s fussy, I beg for her to take a nap. And when she’s asleep, I want her to wake up. My daughter makes me roll my eyes when she cries because she can’t chew on my glasses and in a moment can make me smile when she rests her head on me. She makes me laugh when she has a giggle fit. She makes me frustrated when she bites me cause she’s teething. She makes me proud when she babbles back in conversation and makes me grin when she starts bouncing to a song. And when I want a break and leave her with one of my family members, I have the urge to check in after a few minutes. This goes back to the guilt of experiencing things for and by myself. It’s like when it’s summer you want it to be winter. When it’s winter, you want it to be summer. It’s probably best just to embrace the moment.

The reality is once you become an active parent or caregiver, few things are ever just about you anymore. The only time I have completely by myself is in the middle of the night if I can’t sleep and on my commute to work. Any plans made requires approval for someone else to make sure they will watch the baby or going to a family friendly place. Before, I wanted to succeed in my career; now I have to continue gaining experience so that I can thrive in it. Being a mom, for me, means she comes first. There’s a reason airplanes instruct parents to help themselves first, in case of an emergency; that’s not the instinct. Being a mom means I make sure she’s settled before I eat or leave for work. It means she’s asleep or someone’s with her before I go to sleep. It means I think twice before making plans and I give myself an extra hour to get ready to leave the house. It’s means I rush when I do anything that takes my attention away from her.

Being a parent can take away from your individuality. Children need pretty constant attention in the early years of childhood. Everything is about the baby for at least the first year- I’m not sure when that ends. Especially when the baby is a newborn, people will check in on the baby, before checking in on you. They’ll understandably ask to see the baby when making plans with you. And when other people see you taking time away from your child, whether they themselves are parents or not, they tend to have something negative to say. Again, this is more so directed at mothers than fathers.

I have support, so it’s not like I can never have time to myself, but it doesn’t shake the guilt that comes with even the thought of taking time for myself. It’s been ten almost eleven months and I’ve never been away from her for an entire day. The idea of leaving her for that long is still hard. My baby didn’t ask to be born into this world; the least I can do is be present for her. This doesn’t mean that I and other mothers and parents are not still our own people though. It doesn’t mean we don’t deserve time away sometimes just because we chose to have children. It is so important to me that I and others don’t lose ourselves in parenthood and instead let it enhance us and became just another one of our identities.

My priorities, mindset, and perspective has completely changed from a year ago since becoming pregnant and a mother. Creating a happy and healthy life for my daughter and I is my goal in life. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I can truly express how much I love her with words, even when she gets on my nerves.

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Food For Thought life Societal

The Complexities of Humans

Humans are complex. We are eager to learn and to be innovative. We are relatively self aware. We have a physical body, a curious mind, and a spiritual soul. Our minds have the capacity to store information and experience a wide range of emotions. We can problem solve with complex thinking and emotional understanding, not solely act out of instinct. There’s still a lot we have yet to discover or thoroughly understand about the human body and mind. But one thing’s for sure. Humans are alike and different. We’re all multifaceted, made up of a variety of characteristics and identities.

There are many factors, some chosen some not, who make us into the people we are. I read somewhere once that people are a combination of pieces of everyone they have met and connected with throughout their life. This makes sense when you consider that our brains try to mimic what we see. That’s why we yawn when we see someone else yawn. We pick up phrases and mindsets of the people we are around. Who we surround ourselves with impacts who we are.

Everyone we connect with whether in passing or in a deep relationship, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, can leave lasting impacts on us. Some are subtle scratches, some are deep wounds that take time to heal. Those experiences teach us what it is we like, dislike, want, will accept, and will reject while shaping the way we understand the world and others.

On an individual basis, it can be hard to remember the complexities of humans. We interact with someone and use that as a basis for how we view them. We can fail to see that those moments are only a sliver of who the person is. (Sometimes the moments we have with others are misrepresentations and/or projections). It can be hard to see someone else as a whole person with a past and encounters that make them into who they are. It’s not for everyone to know everything about you, unless you choose for it to be, nor for you to know everything about everyone you encounter. It is something to keep in mind that can help if you have trouble taking things personally.

Just think about yourself for a second. Do you treat everyone in your life exactly the same? Has every person you’ve ever crossed paths with, even for a brief moment, experienced the same you as others do? I mean, that would be seemingly impossible because our moods and mindsets can change daily. Prior events lead to current moments which can lead to a variety of emotions.

For example, different people know different ways to make me laugh. Some people bring out the worst in me, others motivate me. Some are quick to ask me advice and vent about life. Some I can talk about reality tv and anime with. I talk about work with coworkers in a different way than I would a friend, just as I talk about motherhood differently to people who are mothers.

Everyone we connect with affects us differently, even if it feels similar to someone else. Everyone taps into different parts of us. No one has the same exact relationship with you, as you and they have with others, even if you know mutual people from the same environment. When you remember that, you remember that we all probably don’t treat everyone in the same way, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

I saw a post on Twitter one day that asked, when did you start to see your parents as whole people a part from you. And now being a mom it’s something I think about every so often. It’s easy to forget parents experienced so much before their children get here, even if they had them young. Their encounters shape who they are which can shape who their children become and when those children have kids that cycle continues. But as a kid and growing up, it’s easy to only see them as parents. Even when parents speak on the past, their children weren’t there to experience it. Some parents go more in depth than others. Some are still healing from scars their children don’t even know about. And all of this would affect their treatment of their child.

And this isn’t just true about parents. It’s true about everyone we encounter. Everyone, even the most privileged, is going through shit, manageable or not, all the time. How we see others may not truly be who they are and vice versa. Someone being kind to you doesn’t mean they’re kind to others. Reacting poorly in one situation doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Sometimes we don’t understand the actions of others, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re wrong.

For example, a couple years ago when I was evidently depressed and just in the dumps about life, I didn’t want to do anything or be social. It turned people the wrong way when I would cancel going to an event to work instead. But the thing was, I didn’t mind working because if I had to do something I figured I might as well make money from it. It made me feel productive and distracted all while my brain could turn off. I didn’t feel the need to have to connect or be present at work like I would at a social gathering.

Inside out is one of my favorite Pixar movies. It deals with human emotion and the brain in a playful way as it relates to kids. One of the biggest take aways from the movie is that an event can bring about mixed emotions. Sometimes you’re going to be overwhelmed with emotions but it’s healthier to feel it out than to let it build up. Memories can bring about multiple emotions like happiness and sadness and jealousy and anger etc. All those feelings occur because of different reasons even though the event is the same. Perspective, man.

The same is true with people. We are one person who can do a range of different things. We can tell lies, perform acts of kindness, compliment or be mean to others, blow off the people we love, be closed off, insecure, etc. We can be amazing people who do or say bad things, even to ourselves, from time to time. And the reality is, it is up to other people to decide if they want to deal with us or not. Of course we can apologize, change and grow, but no one has to wait around for us to do so, just as we don’t have to wait for others.

So, what I’m trying to say is that we are complex and imperfect. We have flaws and bad days. We make mistakes. We have many characteristics and identities. Everyone gets a slightly different version of us and that doesn’t have to be a negative thing. We are a compilation of our experiences and the people we meet. We are alike and unique. We are forever changing.

Categories
Children life Pregnancy Self Love and Personal Growth

3 Months Post-Partum

It’s been three months, actually closer to four months by the time this is posted, since I gave birth. Giving birth via c-section was an experience to say the least. It was my third turning point on the ride that is the idea and reality of having children. (My first turning point was knowing I want children one day. The second was finding out I was pregnant). What came after were the first days of the rest of my life raising another human being.

My baby didn’t open her eyes for the first couple of weeks because the light was too bright. She was used to the darkness of the womb. For I don’t know how long, she’d eat and poop and pee and sleep. Then she’d wake up and cry because she’s hungry and drift off back to sleep, only to wake up and cry because she fell asleep too soon and was still hungry. Then, one day, she opened her eyes and it’s become a daily thing every time she is awake.

The thing I didn’t know until this experience is that parents lack sleep because babies need to eat every 2-4 hours, including during the middle of the night and early in the morning. If the baby doesn’t wake up by the 3-4 hour mark, you’re supposed to wake them up, and try to get them to eat. Call it efficient, or anxiety-fueled, or the steps a new mom would take, but for the first couple of weeks I set timers to ensure she was eating as often as recommended, especially at night, to make sure she was gaining weight. I don’t set timers anymore, mainly because she’s good at waking herself up when she’s hungry.

In the beginning, she would wake up anytime she was put down. She constantly wanted to be in someone’s arm and could tell when she wasn’t. As time goes on she gets more comfortable not being held all the time, though she prefers it. She still sleeps longer when she’s close to someone. You can tell when she’s knocked out cause her mouth will be open as she sleeps.

Week by week she stays awake a little longer and sleeps a little less. One day she smiled at me for the first time for no particular reason. Another day she laughed while she was awake, versus in her sleep, which was the only time I’d heard her laugh before. She tries to climb up me when we’re sitting down and bawls her eyes out when I clear out the mucus and boogers from her nose.

She’s developed different cries when she needs different things. She whines when she’s tired and is fighting sleep. She smiles when she sees a ceiling fan and the artwork on the walls. She’s curious when she’s in a new environment. She gets excited when she sees me or the friendly and familiar faces of our immediate family. She’s starting to babble more often and in response to us talking to her. She laughs when she’s amused and likes to stick her tongue out at us when she’s feeling playful. She chews on everything, especially her hands. She’s even trying to hold her own bottle.

In three months my baby has grown so much. She’s gained weight and gotten longer. Her eyebrows and eyelashes have grown in. Her umbilical cord fell off and her belly button, which was protruding, is slowly getting smaller and going in. She’s getting more hair on top of her head, which changes texture week by week. She’s gone up in diaper sizes. It’s surreal seeing her grow and noticing the changes in her physicality, personality, and development. She’s growing so fast it’s unreal. It makes my heart melt and ache.

I can talk about her all day. She’s allowed me to experience a different type of love. She’s allowed me to look at other children and other parents with more awe, respect, and understanding than I have in the past. Knowing she came from me is still surreal. She means more to me than I can put into words.

The c-section recovery was hard for me. My incision didn’t fully heal until 10 weeks, 2 1/2 months, after my delivery. It took 10 weeks, 2 1/2 months, for me to be cleared to exercise and go back to work.

Those were hard weeks because I couldn’t be self-sufficient. In the first couple of weeks it hurt to move, sleep, and laugh. It felt impossible to get comfortable. My autoimmune disease was also being a nuisance and I wasn’t cleared to breastfeed with the medication I needed to be on. That being said, I had to make the transition from breastfeeding to formula, which was something I wasn’t originally planning to do so soon.

Breastfeeding in itself is hard work. Breasts get engorged with milk which hurts, so you pump to store, which only stimulates more milk production. I had to ride out the engorging when I made the decision to stop breastfeeding because I was trying to lessen my supply. With breastfeeding it can be hard to get the baby to latch. Though my daughter didn’t have too much trouble with that, with the pain I was in, finding a comfortable position for the both of us was challenging. Also, being woken up every 2 hours, which was how often my daughter woke up to eat at first, was exhausting. It also hurt my nipples when she latched; nipple cream comes in handy with chafing.

I was sad about not being able to breastfeed for as long as I wanted, and held it off for as long as I could. On the upside, once I switched I didn’t have to deal with those challenges of breastfeeding anymore. Also, I have full autonomy of my body back. I can eat and drink anything without worrying if it is safe for the baby. I feel mobile again. I said bye bye to the nausea and the vomiting almost immediately after giving birth.

2 1/2 months later, about a month ago, I started working again. It was the first time I was away from my baby since giving birth. (And I started working sooner than I could have. I could have gone back in May). I mistakenly came back earlier than I was ready for and felt lost. Covid plays a role in all this too. I was on leave and social distancing for so long, it was hard to get into the rhythm of being around strangers and acquaintances. I got annoyed easier, especially when dealing with rude people. I would see children and think of my own baby. My hormones felt all over the place. I mean, I was still and still am producing milk. My breasts leak a little every once and a while and my period has yet to make an appearance. Needless to say, going back to work was a lot.

I rode it out though and am getting used to spending time away from my baby. Still, being a new mom and having a kid who is only a couple months old came with some baggage. I had some guilt about leaving her for work and not being home when she wakes up in the morning. I have trips planned without her to support my individuality but am worried about leaving and missing her. I constantly want to be around her. Sometimes, I need a break and am given one, only to miss her and want her back.

I also experienced anxiety specific to being a new mom. It gets better as time goes on. In the beginning I had a lot of anxiety throughout the day when I wasn’t with her, even if she was just a room away. I had/have anxiety about dropping her. Sometimes, the anxiety has affected my sleep; I wake up instantly thinking about her and go to check on her.

When people say it takes a village, they really aren’t lying. Raising another human being is a 24 hour gig. There’s no days or time off. And even though I go to work and have vacations planned without her, she was, is, and will always be there in the back of my mind. I’m so grateful for my parents and my brother who are always down to babysit when I’m working and watch her when I’m running an errand or sleeping. I can tell they love her as much as I do and that she feels the same about them. I know this experience would be ten times harder and more draining if I didn’t have their help and support.

I will say it is a little weird to call her my daughter still, mainly because of social distancing and the fact that I moved back to my hometown. And although I love speaking about her and my experience and sharing pictures, I don’t talk about her much to others daily, besides mentioning her existence, unless they bring her up first and ask questions. Most people I know don’t have kids and are in the “fuck them kids” stage of their life. Plus, I know it could get a little annoying. It’s also wild that I’m meeting people who will never know me when I wasn’t a mom. Like, every person I meet from now on will always know and see me as a mom among my other identities and qualities versus the person I was before I was pregnant. It’s wild and it just reaffirms that I’m in a new stage of my life. Because, let’s be real; having kids changes you. It’s changed me and given me a new outlook on life.

Society also has a weird thing against moms, especially single moms, especially black single moms. I don’t know exactly how to describe this disdain. I’m sure it’s rooted in misogyny and misogynoir. But there’s this pressure to be a “good” mom whatever that means. There’s pressure to give birth a certain way and to breastfeed. There’s pressure to go back to work quickly. There’s pressure to spend all of your time with your baby without any breaks or time without them. There’s pressure to endure a nine month pregnancy, birth a child, and raise a kid for the rest of your and their life while working and to make it appear as if all those things are done flawlessly, without breaking a sweat. There’s pressure to act a certain way because you’re a mother now. There’s pressure to raise your kids a certain way, especially by people who don’t even have children. There’s pressure to lose all of the baby weight and to lose it all quickly. Regardless, I have to remind myself that I am more than a mom and more than a single black mom. They are parts of me, but not all of me. My life encompasses my daughter’s, but they are still two separate lives. I don’t have to live up to the imaginary standards society places onto motherhood.

The hardest parts about being a mom so far has been the change in sleeping habits, accepting the change in my weight and my body, and the new mom anxiety. The best parts about being a mom are watching her grow before my eyes, experiencing this type of love, and honestly just her entire existence. These three/ four months have been a whirlwind. They’ve also been life changing and worthwhile. I wouldn’t trade it in for anything and it’s exciting to see where life will take us from here.