Universal Fear in Motherhood
I made a commitment to myself: One blog a week. When I set the goal into place I didn’t anticipate a struggle, clearly I wouldn’t intend to set myself up for failure-- right? But let me be honest, today is Friday, the day I promised myself I would set loose onto the blogging world my next great contribution, and I sit here anxiously thinking about what to write, I think that maybe nothing will compare to the exhilaration of the first time; the first time I shared my truth, my heart, bore a piece of me often left for the inner nest of my life. Yet, as a friend suggested, I finally sat down to just write-- with a glitter beer on deck-- and waited to see what would come out, and she was right-- it did surprise me. Thank you for treating me like a writer because I’m still learning to say that with confidence and power.
I know I am a mother-- a good mother. The question I ask myself: Did I know that with confidence and power after my first kid? Was it somewhere in between the first and second kid? As I grow the third kid, I sit here knowing I am a mother-- a good mother. It is true, there is nothing like the first time: your first kiss, your first sexual encounter, your first big personal victory, your first major loss, and your first time driving. However, first times do not mean the best or that the second time, third time, or 1,000th time will be lackluster. My first sexual encounter was certainly not the best, nor was it consensual; in fact, I am looking forward to the 1,000th time I have sex with my husband because there is magic in the familiar; conversely, there is magic in the way we change every day, we evolve, we grow, so are we really all that familiar to one another? Change is good.
I understand that I digress but the idea about firsts strongly connects to motherhood. Naturally, (and luckily) I have become part of a large community of mothers, so I hear a lot of things; sometimes about those firsts and sometimes about those 1,000th things. I have a (mom)-friend who recently had a baby boy, a craving that was finally satiated. Flash forward a handful of months to my announcement of baby number three, to which she congratulated me; however, she quickly followed up with a concern of her own. She knows she wants more children; she needs more children, but despite the intense desire she is fearful that a second kid (or third) can’t possibly earn the same amount of fierce love and devotion as her first. Quickly, I assured her of two things--based on my experience-- that her fears are normal and that she is more capable of loving than she knows.
As I sat with another (mom)-friend having an intimate conversation about her recent announcement of a second pregnancy, she paused and in a raw vulnerability expressed she was worried that her beautiful relationship with her first child would be changed, altered, and different; her eyes welled up with the thought of loss. Quickly, I assured her of two things-- based on my experience-- that her fears are normal and that the relationship will change. Change is not bad. The second-time is not lackluster.
The fears of motherhood are universal, ignoring your age or color. We are humans, attempting to raise and love other humans-- that is scary shit. Yes, the first kid is, the first kid and that will never happen again but the second kid, is the second kid and that will never happen again, and I’m assuming that the same goes for the third kid. There is a magic to loving more than I knew I was capable of and accepting a changed relationship; it reminds me of my experience with my husband; I loved (and still love) that man more than I had ever loved anybody. I was fearful that becoming parents would lessen the love I had for him because I wouldn’t have enough to give. It didn’t. I was fearful becoming parents would alter our relationship. It did. But remember what I said earlier about firsts? They are not always the best. My love for him grew (and grows) because I get to see this man grow and evolve as a man and a father. Our relationship has changed because we are in an incredibly challenging journey-- together, thriving.
Based on my experience, mothers are magical because we can love with an infinite capability. You can be fearful that you won’t have enough love to give, or that there will be change but know that I sit here, growing my third kid confident and excited to love this little baby we call Bourbon with the same Earth-shattering love that I have for the rest of my family; after all, I am a mother-- a good mother-- and a bit magical, just like you.