There is a piece of my brain that has been lying dormant. It’s directly attached to a slice of my heart that has also gone unused, until now. This hunk of gray matter and strip of muscle have been awakened. The synapses are firing. The blood is pumping. Now that they have been turned on they can never be turned off. It’s the birth of Motherhood.
A few years ago my brother had a little girl. I fell in love. For the first time, I was smitten with a baby. Until then, I regarded babies and children with indifference. I wasn’t overcome by a desire to hold the baby. I would smile and pretend I cared, but my cheeks were burning with impatience and I would wonder to myself if I had shown an appropriate amount of interest yet. My womb didn’t ache.
When my niece came along, I was relieved to have true feelings for her. I genuinely wanted to spend time with her. I wasn’t faking when I said she was beautiful. I didn’t cringe inside when she cried. When she fell asleep on my chest, I felt connected.
Still, when I was alone with her, I was nervous. There were so many things to remember. How will I know she’s hungry? How much do I feed her? How will I know when she’s full? Do I put her to sleep on her stomach or her back? Am I allowed to leave her alone while I go to the bathroom? How will I ever be able to be a Mother if I can’t keep this stuff straight? I always assumed that I would have kids, but I was 29 years old. You’d think that I would be ready. So, if I wasn’t, maybe I never would be...
Worry not. I’ve only had this baby for 3 months. I’ve had lots of things for three months, or longer. Hell, I have a dog. I love that dog, but I walk out the door without him all the time and I never feel as though I’ve walked out the door without my arm. I went to a movie with a friend a couple weeks ago for the first time since my son was born. I spent the entire night checking my pockets - keys, wallet, phone - keys, wallet, phone - keys, wallet, phone. I was so consumed with this checklist and the feeling that something was missing that I could hardly pay attention to the movie.
The things that were so difficult to keep straight four years ago are routine now. I’ve traded in my collection of designer purses for a gender neutral diaper bag. My lovely silver earrings and necklaces sit tarnished in the jewelry box, safe from tiny fingers. My idea of shopping is no longer a full day of shoe stores, but rather an hour in the grocery store. Friday nights are spent like every other night, gazing at my beautiful baby boy. I have to make a conscious effort to think with any other part of my brain and to love with any other part of my heart. Motherhood has officially taken over. And I’m telling you right now, for all the world, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
