How many of us new moms feel the aching, confusing, pull and strain and total confusion of the loss of who we were? How many of us look in the mirror and don’t recognize the woman we’ve become? How many of us know how to find the woman that was forced to be abandoned when the baby was born?
Right now my 8 month old son is sleeping, my honey’s off to bed, and I’m sitting at home in the Andean high desert with a glass of wine grown from the grapes outside, wrapped in my new alpaca poncho, my feet warmed by by the blazing fire, and most importantly, I am by myself.
How long as it been since I have been able to enjoy being by myself? I used to love being by myself.
To be fair, I also used to love drinking acid-laced sangria and dancing well past sunrise, jetting off to Sri Lanka or Bulgaria, and reading old western novels by the wood stove in a shed-like cabin in the woods (on a pot farm).
I don’t want to cling to any of my old versions of myself that aren’t useful to me anymore, but I don’t want to drop them entirely either.
The old me that danced past dawn was seeking to find her own way when the road she was presented as a child seemed totally inadequate. The me that jetted off to far-flung places was consciously reviving her confidence and testing her courage and faith in herself. The me that dove head first into the cannabis community was looking to unplug and reconnect to the earth after a major burnout.
And now, my Free Spirit Wild Child, Fearless World Traveler, and Self-Sufficient Mountain Woman identities have now all been eclipsed by Mama.
I am still creative goddess. I know this deep in the quiet center of my being. Even if more often than not these days, I feel more like those ancient fertility goddess statues that are nothing but a big belly and swollen breasts…
When the Mama role eclipses and consumes all the others, I feel lost. And I feel like I’m not being the best mom I can either.
Those experiences and choices made me the woman I am. That is the woman I want to raise my child, the one who wraps her old selves with love and compassion in a big alpaca poncho and says, “There’s room here for you too,” instead of tossing them out like old shoes.
As we transition through pregnancy and early motherhood, SO much is required of us. If we don’t have a way to stay connected or grounded through the process, losing sense of self isn’t just easy, it’s inevitable.
Here are three tools I’ve found to be helpful. I don’t make them nearly as strong of habits a I should but I’m so much happier and whole when I do them.
1. Do the things that you loved to do before baby, WITH baby
If you like to walk or jog or hike, strap your baby to you or invest in an awesome jogger and get back out there when your body feels ready. If you’re a voracious reader (guilty), then read while you’re feeding or when baby’s napping. If you love a good Netflix binge, do it. And don’t freakin’ guilt yourself about it either.
The point is, you are the woman who are and the woman you are is going to be the best mother to your child. Don’t leave her in the dust. Bring her along for the ride.
2. Get Outside
This one is crucial. Walk around the block, hike, take a beautiful drive or a trip to the park, whatever. Just get out of the house, bonus points if you can do it in the morning. It’ll set the tone for your whole day.
When I get outside, I feel the freshness of the air. I feel like I’m still connected to the world around me in a way other than my smartphone (which can be a great tool too but it shouldn’t be the only tool in your toolbox).
Feel the cool air or warm sun on your skin. Breathe. Even if you feel like a sleep detprived zombie, you’re actually freaking alive and human and that is awesome! Oh and you created a human which is more than awesome. It’s the most powerful, transformative thing you’ll probably ever do.
Connect with Mother Earth and share your sense of wonder. She gets it.
3. Meditate
For reals. 5 minutes. or 2 minutes. Or 20 minutes. It’s so easy to do and even easier to not do. But doing it will slowly change everything.
I’m reading Michelle Moran’s excellent Rebel Queen right now and there is a great quote about meditation:
“The reason a person practices every day is to disconnect from their deep connection to suffering.”
It’s not the cool thing to do to connect early motherhood with suffering. Pregnancy is forgiven because everyone knows we get physically sick and uncomfortable. But new moms are supposed to be filled with joy.
And often we are. But I call utter bullshit to anyone who denies the element of suffering.
You have lost who you were forever. You aren’t sleeping well. Your connection to your partner, if you have one, is tested. And the not knowing what to do, the mom guilt, the fear that something could happen to this new and fierce piece of your heart, the unsolicated touches and advice…
Mama, there is major suffering. Meditate every day and let. that. shit. go.
Even if it’s just for 2 minutes and you can’t really quiet your mind, keep doing it. Keep observing your thoughts. Keep letting them go. For 2 minutes know that nothing matters. Nothing.
My mother-in-law told me once that the mothering years are like a parenthesis in your life.
One day, and soon, these early years will be behind you. I’m not going to spout off some pathetic quip about cherishing it while it lasts blah blah because sometimes early motherhood is bullshit and it sucks.
But some day the intense Mama years will be behind me. I want to cultivate the ability to be who I am, who I am called to be in the present moment, full of knowledge of who I was and that I will be someone else again in the future. Surrender and Grace.
I want to cultivate the tools that will serve me through the the changes and transitions I’ll make in the future from new mom to toddler mom all the way through mom of a teenager or grandma if it happens.
Well, my glass of wine is now finished and it’s time to slip into bed with my little one. Amazing what just an hour of space will do. Just by remembering and honoring who I was, writing it down and sharing it here, I feel a deeper connection to myself and love for my son.
I can’t wait to curl up with his warm, sleepy body, even if it means baby kicks and baby slaps and baby finger nails on my nose and my nipples later when he wants to nurse. Yup, maybe #momlifeisthebestlife after all.
Want more tips for real self care? Subscribe to my monthly newsletter and get real self-care rituals, plus travel tips + inspo and my favorite reads for you and your littles.
[wpforms id=”730″]
