I don’t want to write about motherhood. It’s almost cliche. But it’s where I am. It’s where I’ve been for the past almost year and a half, while ignoring my keyboard.
I watched my belly swell. My husband watched (often helplessly) as I struggled to contain my emotions. (Watching the baby kick is so cool! Nevermind, it hurts, and I can’t sleep!)
I felt my skin stretch to the point where removing medical adhesive from my belly took the skin off underneath it. (I almost passed out.)
My ankles became cankles and then they stayed that way for days after Baby made his appearance. Three days after I gave birth I stared at myself naked in the mirror and bawled. I felt as though life had handed me a miracle and in return I gave the world my body to throw in the dump.
And the past year…Baby has been my whole life. Moms’ groups, playgroups, poop, worry over the future. I’ve had so much to say but no time to say it.
My focus is permanently switched. I’m embracing motherhood – the myths, the facts, the beauty, the mess. Sorry in advance for another mom blog if you hoped for something different, and you’re welcome if any of it helps keep you sane or makes you laugh.