I was talking to Chelsey recently and I told her that I think I'm anaemic. Anemia is a fairly common issue for women who’ve recently given birth and I was showing all the symptoms: tired all the time, low energy, trouble focusing. Chelsey looked at me and responded in her very kind, funny, intelligent way, "I think you might just have a 12 month old."
I really thought it would be different for me. That I, somehow, would escape all the challenges and growing pains that so many mothers/blogs/friends warned me about. My husband and I would have just as much sex. More sex even. I would be my most productive self. I would become more efficient, getting my work done ease and order. I would have a six-pack three months postpartum. The list, naively continues.
The truth is, I have escaped nothing. It was all true. Every single thing they told me. All of it. It's hard. Fuck it! I said it! It's hard. And amazing and scary. And this is my first one so I have no frame of reference. No real concept of how quickly time moves. For me, it feels like each phase will last forever. Every week, the rules change. Every week, your child is different. Every week, you’re different. It's freaking wild over here.
So, I'm doing the best I can. All moms are just doing the best they can. Maybe I'm anemic or maybe I just have an 12 month old. Who knows. What I do know for sure, is that I am not unique in my experience. And all of the words of wisdom and cautionary advice that I found so negative, so self defeatist, so cliche before I gave birth, are now the words that I turn on a daily basis. Those cliches let me know that I'm not alone. For now, I will repeat them as often as I need to. And today, I’ll share my favorite with you. It was ever so eloquently expressed to me by someone I deeply admire when I first had Oliver: “Enjoy every bewildering moment.”