Thursday, March 20, 2014

Growing Pains

Nothing could have prepared me for how much my heart would grow in these first few months of being Zoe's Momma. I remember reading the articles and the books prior, arrogantly scoffing at the moms who admitted to wearing puked-on t-shirts and yoga pants all day, the moms who had Cheerios in their hair and who hadn't showered in two days. "I will NEVER be that mom!" I assured myself.

Because Zoe is such a good baby, I thankfully have managed so far (knock on wood!) to maintain a somewhat pristine semblance of personal hygiene. Amazingly, she is a baby who sleeps through the night, so if I feel overly tired, it's usually my fault for staying up too late with my Hubster watching The Food Network. Cheerios haven't entered Zoe's menu plan yet, but it is true that there are days when I go through more wardrobe changes than she does. Not only do I get puked on, but apparently what comes out the other end can be projectile as well. And yoga pants - they're like sexy sweat pants, right? Comfort and style combined!

While pregnant, I remember fearfully pondering whether or not I was cut out to be a mom. See, there is a difference between WANTING to be a mom, and KNOWING you can be a mom. Diapers revolted me. Kids can't have intelligent conversations. And personal sacrifice was akin to hacking off my arm. I got my first reassurance that maybe I could do this thing called motherhood at my first ultrasound. The grey and white blob floating on the screen waved one of its stubby little arms at me and a lump formed in my throat and my eyes actually misted.

Before I knew it, that little grey and white blob made an entrance in our world and turned it upside down. One of the first days home, I called both my mom and my mother-in-law. They both asked me how things were going and it was all I could do to choke out "Fine!" before dissolving into hacking sobs. How did they do it? What does it mean when a baby's cry sounds like a screaming fire truck? How about when it sounds like a hysterical hyena? Or a piercing yelp that was at such a decibel that surely only dogs could hear it? "I don't know what I'm doing!" I wailed.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful mother-in-law, who said, "You're doing great, Jenny Girl! Zoe has no one to compare you to. You're the only Momma she has ever had, so when you don't know what you're doing and you feel uncertain, she still loves you!" While at the time, my mother-in-law's advice seemed daunting (I was the only Momma Zoe was going to have! She relies on me for everything! YIKES!), now I look back on it and cherish the fact that "YES! I am Zoe's Momma and she needs me! I am the world to her and she loves me!" 

The first few weeks, at the time, felt like years during which I never slept while battling an aching body and roller coaster hormones, seemed to have slipped through my fingers. Now I want time to stand still. I want to always be able to nuzzle the back of Zoe's neck, just to get a whiff of sweet baby smell. I want to always be able to kiss the soft little bald spot on the back of her head where all her hair rubbed off. I want to always be able to sing "You Are My Sunshine" to wake her up, knowing I will be rewarded with happy squeals and the cutest giggle. I want her smile to always be toothless and gummy just because it's so darn cute!

But that's not how it goes. Change doesn't wait for me to catch up. It just happens. And now, things that Zoe wasn't able to do last month, last week, even yesterday, are the things that I'm loving about her today. I don't know if she will ever fully understand how much I love her - not until she is a momma of her own. I know that is how it was for me - motherhood helped me realize how selfless and loving my own mom was as I grew up. Until then, I know that I'm going to mess up. I'm going to let myself, and maybe even Zoe, down. But I'm going to try my best. There will be growing pains, but isn't there always when love is stretched to new heights and deepened to new depths?