The last few days have left me with the sense that I am FINALLY coming out of the fog.
Transitioning into motherhood was one thing I had hoped to do gracefully. Maybe even easily. But somewhere along the lines I missed the fact that it would be H A R D. That the sleep deprivation wouldn't be that bad. That I would still have time to go on long walks, dry my hair, cook gourmet meals, and keep my toenails freshly painted. That I could still do laundry, read books, grind wheat and keep up with the Kardashians.
But I can promise you that no book, friend, parent, pediatrician, counselor, street vendor or store clerk told me that it would be like this. They didn't tell me that there would be nights of endless crying when I've exhausted all options of getting Rowan back to sleep. They didn't tell me that I would feel inadequate, exhausted, and overwhelmed. They didn't tell me that there would be hours/days where I'd want to see no one, and just sit in utter silence. Nor did they tell me that my emotions would be forced into high gear almost instantaneously with her arrival, and that that would get very, very ugly.
I was told all of those things. And yet they still surprised me. But, why? Why did I not listen? Why did I imagine myself to be the one woman who could take all of these new feelings and tasks and emotions in stride, and lovingly tend to a baby 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with constant, overflowing love and acceptance in my heart? And while I was lovingly tending to my little one without stress, I would be cooking, baking, crafting, walking, visiting friends, reading books, and spending copious amounts of time resting in this newfound role as a mother? Psh. This should have all been so easy!
But alas, I was lied to. And by the worst person: myself.
So honestly, my goal at this point is to just show up each day. With my whole self. To communicate more openly and candidly with those around me with what I need. With what I'm feeling, or how I'm struggling. There isn't room for manipulation, passive aggression, or a false sense of control. There isn't the time or space for lip service when it isn't real and gets us nowhere. I want my relationships to be authentic and deep, honest from the start. I own who I am and how I respond, and I want to do a good job. But I have to show up. I have to be me. And I have to communicate me or else no one else will really know who I am or how they can help.
I have to show up to love my daughter. I have to show up so that she can see that being honest and true is normal and good. That we can love each other deeply and without hindrance. And that its okay to have hard days, and even acknowledge their hardness openly. Pleasing others gets us further away from who we really are, so we have to show up with ourselves, ready to fully be us and all that entails.
Despite my unfortunate shortcomings in terms of all things domestic, my only hope for these days is to just show up. And I know I can do that. And so I will.