A Different Kind of Mama

It’s good to be back in this space. A space I so value because it’s my very own. My own words and my own thoughts. See, that’s been the problem these past few months. Since our second daughter has been born I haven’t really had my own anything. Space, time, thoughts, feelings, they all seemed to belong to someone else.

My butt has been getting kicked over here. I thought once you had a baby, gone through the baby stages, the sleepless nights, the learning how to give up your own desires and timelines and give them to this tiny, tiny human, that was it. You could have as many as you wanted without much change. Except I was wrong. The transition from having one tiny human bossing me around all day to adding another into the mix has left me feeling drained almost all of the time. I’ve started adding things back into my life that are just for me. I attempt to make it to the gym multiple times a week, I try to make sure I shower every single day and go through the steps of “getting ready” just so I can feel human, I pour myself one cup of coffee and choose to drink it at a time my children are relatively content so I can thoroughly enjoy it, and here I am attempting to start writing again. But these words are broken, these eyes are tired and these thoughts are jumbled. So bear with me, and hopefully we’ll make it.

The one thing that keeps popping up over these past few months is that pesky old mom guilt. You know the one. The one that is always present, always loud. But I’m finding mine doesn’t rest in the expected places. I don’t often hold on to not getting enough done in the day, or not enough outside time for the littles, or feeding my kid PB&J three days in a row. My guilt kicks in when I realize I can’t be the mom I used to be.

The best advice I was given when I was pregnant with my first was to enjoy the first time mom bubble. The bubble you can stay in all day long with your sweet new baby because that’s your only responsibility. That’s the only thing in your world that matters for those few short months. I took full advantage of that bubble. I blew that bubble so big and nestled deep inside of it. Every day I would set up our spot. I would have my snacks and water, books and Netflix and I would hunker down for the nap that was about to take place on my chest. Alice didn’t sleep anywhere but right next to me or on top of me for the first year of her life. Some of that was chosen, some of it wasn’t. But looking back, all of it is cherished. It was her and I every moment. When she fussed, I was right there. When she opened her eyes it was me she saw first. When I did have to get something done she was strapped to my chest in one of our [many] baby wearing devices. And I’m pretty sure the kid never had a chance to know what “hungry” felt like.

I knew what kind of mama I was. I was her mama. I was whatever she needed me to be, whenever she needed me to be it. And then I got pregnant with our second. I could tell things were changing already, even with the baby still on the inside. I suddenly had to start factoring another into our dynamic. I had to start thinking of someone other than her and I. My attention was already starting to split.

We’ve had a relatively easy transition into the land of 2 children. My oldest took to her sister willingly. Of course there are moments of jealousy and frustration but that’s having a sibling, that’s expected. There hasn’t been any aggressive behavior or regression in development and for that I am thankful. But just because it has gone smoothly doesn’t mean it has been easy. It especially hasn’t been easy on my mom guilt.

Now that there are two of them that need me, I’m finding that it’s hard to be everything to everyone, to be everywhere all of the time, to do all of the things. There’s not enough of me. Alice is really good at playing by herself, finding some random item to focus on with which to entertain herself. But is that her personality or is that because she has to be that way due to not getting the attention from me? Is that nature or is that nurture? There have been many times I quite literally stand in the doorway between the two rooms holding my two children who are both screaming and I’m left feeling defeated. I have to choose one to run to, who’s it going to be this time.

Do you see yet how the mom guilt is present all of the time? How desperately I want to be able to give both of them all of me, while also giving my husband me too, and also having a little bit of me for myself at the end of the day. Going from 1 to 2 has been hard. It’s been exhausting and frustrating and tear-inducing. It’s also been humbling and joy filled and has left me feeling so overwhelmed with love that I don’t know what to do but give all of my praise to the Lord.

We’re almost 2 years in and I still don’t know what I’m doing. Every day I’m winging it. Every day I’m choosing to love them the best I’m able to that day. Some days it’s more than others but all of the days it’s all that I have. I’m not the mama I used to be, for the mama I used to be was just her mama. I’m their mama now. And their mama is someone completely different. She believes different things, has experienced more and expects less. Every day her motherhood looks different, her motherhood is being shaped and pruned and transformed. There’s no guilt in that, but there is so much beauty.