Having a baby and suddenly (nine months in the process, but suddenly, all the same) becoming a mother can be very hard on the self identity.
Who I was, once upon a time, was creative and independent and sexy and hard working and a little bit rockstar and a little bit bohemian poet in a windy garret. And a lot more. It was always fluid, but always up to me to determine.
Being a mother is to be swept away in the tides of humanity—countless others have been there before me. I never realized the strength that biology would hold over me. The whole process of creating a new human being out of my body is still kind of unbelievable to me. I was completely unready for the number that hormones would do on my body, on my emotions, and even on my mind. Then there is the responsibility and time commitment of raising a child. The loss of freedom and the ability to travel light and/or at a moment’s notice. And how I underestimated the toll that sleepless nights would take.
Being a mother kind of swept away who I was.
But I think I have figured out a way back. It’s about asking for the things I need. It’s about taking time away from household duties and even mothering in order to take care of my duties to myself and my writing and my creativity. It’s about joining a community of other mothers, even if we don’t know each other that well yet. It’s about keeping track of where my life is going and remembering the goals that I want to reach down the road. It’s not easy, really, but it’s not all that complicated either—simple to comprehend, hard to do.
I can’t say that everything, or even anything is perfect. I’m still working on it all. I’m still learning how it works. But, at least I am back to who I am.