"fitting back into pre-pregnancy skinny jeans - good feeling! elastic waistbands, you've been swell, but adios!"
And I feel a little bit guilty about doing so, I'll be honest. I am aware of the ways in which pride is not healthy, and can be hurtful to others - especially if your triumph has been their struggle. And for that, I want to apologize, if I have brought up something hurtful for anyone - please forgive me.
But I chose to post that status with intentionality today, because today I need to remind myself that there are things for me to be proud of. That I have succeeded in some things. That I'm doing OK. And perhaps on a deeper level, though not articulated in that status, that I am worthy of being proud of...
Today has been a good day so far... we slept last night - in chunks, yes - but we slept. My son is cute and smiley when he wakes up in the mornings. He's actually put himself to sleep a few times, in his crib - which is significant for us. The doorbell did not wake him up. I can in fact fit into my pre-pregnancy skinny jeans again. I've had a shower. And I feel somewhat in control of my day.
But the reality is, a lot of my hours and days thus far haven't been that way lately. And it's hard to find the spaces and ways to talk about that portion of motherhood, in a healthy way. But for the sake of honesty and being in process, I'm going to try to. The reality is, there are hours and days when I don't love being a mom - when it feels more like a takeover of my life, my body, and me, rather than a joy. Hours and days when constant lactation does not feel like a blessing, but makes me feel like a cross between a broken sprinkler and a cow. There are hours and days when I feel invisible to in the shadow of our adorable child - and I, shamefully to admit, am begrudging towards him, of the attention he receives, and the ways that leaves me ignored. Hours and days when I'm weepy and weary - for no reason - and feel completely out of control of my life, not even capable of articulating why I'm crying to my husband. Hours and days when I wonder if our lives will ever feel "normal" again.
And most of the time, I feel completely out of control. Totally inept at everything that I try to do. In meltdown mode over whether or not to use a pacifier to help my son sleep. Not good at balancing being a wife, mother, friend, and human being, let alone trying to figure out when I last showered - I wasn't sure this morning, but I'm pretty sure it had been several days...
And when that happens, I enter into the very dangerous place of believing that there's something wrong with me: that I am the failure, rather than the situation just being hard - or, in this case, completely normal for early parenthood. That I suck. That I should have it together. That I should "feel" like and act like the perfect mother all the time. That I should be totally fine feeling invisible - or shouldn't mourn the changes that my life, our lives, and lifestyles are undergoing. And the downward spiral of self-loathing and guilt begins to take over... that I have nothing, that I am nothing, to be proud of.
Malarkey.
The reality is, this is normal. It's okay for me to mourn the changes - even in the midst of the intense joy also present there. It does not dishonor my son, for it to be hard for me to selflessly love him all the time. It is not wrong for me to not know what to do next. It is okay for me to cry - even cry without reason. And it's okay for me to feel out of control.
I am not a failure. And even more importantly, I would still be worthy of being proud of - even if everything that I did failed. The fundamental truth from which this blog derives its name, still holds true. Regardless of my successes or failures, I am called daughter. delight. beloved. I am loved. And worth being proud of. That is something I need to be reminded of today.
And in some small way, maybe daring to be audaciously proud of myself for something small and silly - like fitting into my skinny jeans or actually remembering to shower today - can help to remind me, just a little bit, of the larger lesson of the day.
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