Becoming

Five years ago today, at 3:44 and 3:46 pm I became a mama for the first time.

I was such a mess.

I felt blessed, and relieved that they were here and healthy, and detached- as if the whole experience was happening to someone else. I was exhausted and nauseous. And above everything else, I was overwhelmed.

I wish I could have told myself then what I know now- that I would do it, that it would be hard yes, very hard, but that we would get through it. I would tell myself to tell someone how detached I was feeling, instead of just pretending everything was ok. I would take some drugs to help with the anxiety.

When I first met my twin daughters I was in awe of them. Weighing in at 4lbs 15 oz and 6lbs 2 oz, they were so tiny. I felt fiercely protective of them. I really wanted to do everything right. I went through the motions of breastfeeding, of smelling them, of kissing them, of staring into those beady newborn eyes as they fed. But inside, I was still such a mess.

For about 2 years.

That is far too long for anyone to go without help.

I would tell myself that, too. I would also educate myself on the fact that MANY drugs are safe to take while breastfeeding, and that taking something did not mean I was failing as a mommy.

We have a picture of Kate and me, when she was about 2-3 weeks old. I remember David saying "Smile" and me holding Kate's squishy tomato-head cheeks up next to my own bloated and pale face. I remember thinking to myself "You have to look like you love her."

The bonding did come. I did fall absolutely head over heals. By 1 month, I was in love, and it grew from there on. But the anxiety was still so present. I felt like I was wound too tight and that if one. tiny. thing. in my world got out of order, my whole world would FALL APART.

I felt like everyone was judging me. That no matter what, I wasn't doing it right, or doing enough, or making the best decisions. I felt like asking for help meant that I sucked at my new job. I missed my old job and my old coworkers.

Now, 5 years later, I have found my parenting feet. I comfortable with myself as a mother, with the style of parenting we've chosen, with people having different opinions about how I'm raising my children. My kids go to the store with me with messy hair, or dirty faces, and I'm ok with that. I don't feel like everything has to be perfect. I know how to let kids be kids.

Today, I even gave my baby a truffle to eat. I didn't care who saw, or what they thought. I didn't feel like I had to explain my reasoning to anyone. Because now I know that I don't have to be perfect, I don't have to let others allow me to question myself. And that a little chocolate never hurt anyone, not even a baby.

I still have so much to learn as a parent. Eee-gads-- the school years! Teenage daughters! But thanks to my husband, Treado, some great mommy-mentors, my sisters at work, my playgroup moms, and, yes, Zoloft, I am no longer overwhelmed by being Mama.

In fact, this is my element.

Happy Birthday Kate and Joan. These past 5 years, you have taught me more about love, patience, and devotion than I knew was possible. Thank you for taking me on this amazing journey.