If you knew me before my daughter was born, you might have worried about how I would adapt to motherhood. I was independent, sassy, opinionated, worked ALL the time, enjoyed my life, traveled, dined out way too much, and my husband and I did whatever we wanted to do, whenever we wanted to do it. We thought nothing of taking a 4 day trip to a new place, with one day notice-we lived for us. For 12 years.
Then I began to feel as though I was missing something, as if all of my frantic, obsessed, passionate living was endless, boring and without purpose. Looking back, I think that must have been what people call "your clock ticking"...but I was never one of those women who just know they have to have a baby. That day never fully came for me. I just felt like there must be something MORE.
I remember how scared I was when I found out I was pregnant. Scared. After thinking it was time to do what was "next" for 4 and half years, ultimately having surgery, and the waiting... How could I have been scared? But I was, and my husband was too. Now I feel sad that I wasted any time feeling scared or unsure of how we would do it-how would WE adapt? Could it even be physically possible for us, two very self focused people, to let go of our lifestyle and welcome this little human, who we didn't even know- that was about to move in with us?
My husband woke me up one night, in the wee hours and said, "Umm, I don't know if you realize this, but in a few months, a stranger is going to come live with us. In our HOUSE!" As though we might have kept her in a pen in the garage.
We even referred to the baby as "the Stranger" for a while, until we saw that first ultrasound picture.
She really never felt like a stranger to me after that. We started calling her "the Baby"-we just thought it was a bit more-polite.
The whole process of being pregnant, being in labor (for 37 hours with no meds-yeah, good times were had by all) and having a human pass from within you, really has been the most epic, fantastic and precious adventure we have ever undertaken. And it has only been 8 months with her "on the outside".
I have adapted, gracefully, willingly, joyfully. I don't even miss eating at restaurants- I sincerely (I mean it, I know, hard to believe) would rather be at home so our little stranger can be snug in her crib and cooking a home made meal for my husband and I, than out having a margarita and whooping it up, like the old days. That ship has sailed.
I am so in love with Motherhood.
And margaritas taste so much better at home.
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