Originally posted at 12:39pm on 4/8/13
I’ve been thinking about time lately and how unexpected it is sometimes. How it can feel too quick and too slow all in the very same second. This month, month ten of Sarah June being here with us in our family, I think I have finally started to feel like a mom in a more natural way or, I guess, a more automatic way. It’s who I am now rather than who I strive to be each day in between the dance of life stuff. I think I finally stopped yearning for my old shoes to fit, my old life. I think I finally realized how much better this one really is, instead of having to remind myself of that. Like every new thing that life hands me, I had to grow into it and be patient with myself. Take my time checking it out, navigating, trying it all on, making my comfy groove on my side of the mattress before I really felt like I fit in.
I guess that it took her forty weeks in my belly to feel ready to come meet the world as this new person, all smiles and giggles and confidence and joy, and I think maybe it took me forty weeks or so to feel ready to come into each day feeling comfortable…feeling like I belonged. Most days have been filled with laughter and out-of-control-it-almost-hurts love, but some days, even the happy ones, had me feeling like there was a giant clock in front of my face where I would watch the second hand go by slowly. I was completely obsessed with the moment and yet not living in it at all. Not present, but planning. And, man, I just didn’t expect that, you know? I didn’t expect that I’d have to learn this, grow into this. And I think part of my mind was consumed with being so disappointed in myself for that. Emotional ping pong all day long because I couldn’t settle in. I was searching for my groove while sleeping on a wood board.
This month, I feel like I can rest a bit. Like I can take a deep breath and feel what it is that those moms are talking about when they say that you just know. For me, it happened through love and tears and sillies and smiles and maybe didn’t happen in the hospital bed the moment she was handed to me. The knowing part. The comfortable part. The without a doubt in my mind this is where I belong part. But, I think maybe, it doesn’t matter when or where it just matters that. And it helps if you can find sillies and giggles and chunky thigh and belly kisses while you search.