If I have another child I will do everything in my power to not birth them during the winter season. I am going to stir-crazy I can hardly stand it… Before I had her I had these fantasies of playing with her all day, cleaning the house, cooking dinners, going for walks, being in this peaceful, blissful place. Not only because I finally was going to get to be a mom, but because I wasn’t going to have to be working for three whole months! Little did I know it would be too cold/snowy/icy to go for many walks, she only recently began being interested in playing and can only handle it for about half an hour or so, and there isn’t time for cleaning/laundry/cooking because when I’m not playing with her I’m walking/bouncing/holding her to keep her from crying. I’ve learned to do all of those things one-handed (because she has now decided she hates all slings I try to put her in) and it’s quite possible that my left bicep will be permanently stronger than my right one from holding her all day. I’m starting to feel a little buggy.
So today I went to the mall, which I’ve avoided up until now. Not sure why…I think because for most of the time it was insane with holiday shoppers. Not fun. Also, unless I’m actually going on a shopping spree with money I actually have and time I can actually enjoy, I don’t much like the mall that much. But today I had to get out of the house. I couldn’t do one more trip to Target. I couldn’t play one more game of Mr. Octopus, or make one more lap around our living room/kitchen/dining room (which has become so small and claustrophobic I can hardly stand it). I packed up Nyima, the stroller, and headed out
Had I known how difficult that trip was going to be for me I don’t think I would have gone. It wasn’t Nyima – she slept pretty much the whole time. It was the mall itself, the reminders of the life that isn’t mine anymore.
Every store I walked by reinforced that my life is drastically different now. I used to travel for work, and purposefully made a career step up so that wouldn’t happen anymore because I wanted to be home for having kids. When I traveled I dressed up, I saw how people looked good and I wanted to look good. I bought nice clothes, nice shoes, nice bags, had my hair cut and colored, my nails done. I became fashionable for probably the first time in my life. I was also working out, so I also felt like I looked good for probably the first time in my life. Then I stopped traveling, so I had no reason to get dressed up. I would still look nice on occasion, even though it was just me, just to help myself feel good. Then I got pregnant, and had some complications, so I was too scared to work out. Now I’m a mom. ‘Nuff said.
So I’m walking by these stores that I used to shop at, looking at the clothes that I love but can’t justify buying. A – who would I wear them for? B – They would just get barfed on. c – Now that I’ll be spending an extra $800 a month for childcare I have a hard time justifying spending extra money on trivialities. The list goes on, as does my depression. Then I walk by the sports stores, and am reminded of how in-shape I used to be, and how now my workout involves squatting to pick up clothes/clutter/spit-up off of the floor. I walk by the cheap, trendy clothing stores that I used to look for outfits to go out in for our various martini nights, wine bar nights, dancing nights. No more, no more, no more. I think I know why I’ve been avoiding the mall now.
And then I feel horribly guilty, because I look down and Nyima is sleeping in the stroller and she is perfect, beautiful, and I couldn’t love her more. I tell myself I have everything I said I wanted, there is no reason to be depressed! Then I walk by the perfume counter, which I can’t wear anymore because I don’t want it to cover my ‘mom smell’ for Nyima. I got a gift certificate for Bath and Bodyworks and went there after Christmas and loaded up on lotion because they had a great sale. That was out of habit, and they are now all still in the bag under my bathroom sink. Again. The smell.
I have gone from my world being big, expanding, my surroundings ever-changing and continually meeting new people, even if it’s briefly on an airplane or a hotel lounge, to a world that seems very very small. The same 4 walls every day. The same routine every day. I go for days without seeing or talking to anyone but Nyima and my husband, and by the time he gets home from work I’m tired enough that I don’t feel much like talking to even him. The haircut, which at the time seemed like a perfect way to embrace motherhood, now only reminds me that I am becoming the mom I said I wouldn’t be – plain, boring, sheltered, nothing to talk about but my child.
The guilt I feel for thinking/feeling/writing these things is immense! I finally have everything I have ever wanted, and I am blessed to have this wonderful child in my life, and today it seems all I can do is mourn the loss of me. A me that, frankly, was a more superficial and ego-istic version of the me that I am now. But it is a death nonetheless, and although it was a me that was perhaps more vain and less heartfelt, I miss it. I miss feeling expanded, like I’m conquering the world.
Jason came home and I told him some of the things I was feeling and he just called and said he scheduled a massage for me this evening. Again. I’m upset because why?
I know that this is just one day, that tomorrow I could wake up and be content with my life, my world. And even though today was hard, I look and Nyima and I know that I at least am doing the right thing for HER. (And she managed to get yet MORE clothing from our outing today…seems the only thing I can buy without feeling guilt are items for said baby.) When I became pregnant I knew that I was no longer going to be the most important thing in my life. But it was an abstraction then, an image, a fantasy, an idyllic projection of the motherhood I had been craving for almost 10 years. The reality…well, it’s reality.
I am MOM. Hear me weep.