I’m a walking zombie a lot of the time but I’m a happy one. As I get deeper into motherhood I see how one loses one’s self into it. I was fighting so hard at the beginning to “retain my identity” and now that isn’t so important in the same way. Now I see it as a temporary state, this full emersion as the mother of a baby.
My mother recently told me how she remembered my first full day of school. After dropping me off and returning home she thought, “Oh, I have a full day alone. I”ll listen to music now. Now, I’ll make something to eat. Well, what do I do now?”
I try to remember the things I would see her doing as I grew up. There were crafts, International Wive’s Clubs (charity organizations when we lived overseas), volunteering at my school, sewing costumes for us, making all of our lunches, taking us shopping for school supplies and driving us everywhere.
I never heard her say anything about, “What about me? I need my identity. I need my career.” It wasn’t for lack of ambition or intelligence. She quietly did all the house chores herself, never asked for recognition and laughed often, telling us that no one was going to make us happy, that it was up to ourselves.
I’m going to soak it all up, mothering my little one. These days will be gone someday. I’m still here.