Becoming Mother-One Little Minute Blog

When Milo, my firstborn, was one month old, I reflected on my blog “The process of becoming a parent is fascinating and progressive.”

Little did I understand then exactly how fascinating and progressive it is. Even now, six years from having my first baby, I don’t know how well I understand. Becoming a mother is something that began long before I was pregnant, and will carry on long after I leave this world. It is a part of my every decision, my every day, and the very makeup of my person. It is the most overwhelming, and most beautiful journey with all of the ups and downs that accompany any process of learning, changing, and indeed becoming.
I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I grew up in a big family with a loving and supportive mother who challenged me to be my best, try new things, work hard, be patient, and find happiness all along the way. For how wonderful she was, I of course had times when I would write motherhood notes in my journal to my future self. Things like “When you ask your kids to weed in the yard, go out and weed with them.” -Miranda, age 11. Even from young, I thought of myself as a future mother, and tried to prepare myself with some of these little bits of advice.

When we got married, Dave and I planned to wait several years to start our family when we were out of school and more financially stable. Then, just one year later I guess something inside of me realized that no matter our situation, having a baby would be new and challenging. Despite all of that I was completely confident that we could do it, and our lives would only be enriched by the experience. When I told Dave, tears welling up in my eyes, that I wanted to have a baby…and now. His face beamed and he looked like he was going to burst with joy. All of the challenges would be what they were, but we were going to become parents!

From that moment, I thought of myself as a mom. I consciously ate more healthy, and exercised a bit more to be healthy for pregnancy. I also thought about our budget and future in terms of family, instead of just husband and wife. My life began to change even then, when I conceived the idea of being a mother, before I had conceived a child.

Getting pregnant wasn’t a challenge for me, in fact, with Milo I conceived so quickly that I visited the doctor for my symptoms and when he asked if I might be pregnant I replied “I don’t think so. I would be happy if I was, but I don’t think I could be.”

And then I drove straight from the doctors office to the grocery store and I bought my first pregnancy test, went straight into the store bathroom, where I discovered that I was pregnant! Seeing that “pregnant” on the test, I remember my face flushing hot, my pulse start to quicken, and these incredibly big emotions of excitement, fear, peace, hope, overwhelm, and joy fill my heart. And then I went right back out into the store and bought another one and tested again, just to be sure.

On the way home from the store I bought this children’s book, and once at home I hung some paper stars from the ceiling, tied the positive pregnancy test onto a bag of candy (which seems a little weird to me now, but felt so sweet and sentimental then!) next to the book with a sign that we still have somewhere announcing to Dave “Our baby is the size of a pea this week! 6 down, 34 to go!” And so it began, but there was so much more.

The moment Milo was born, I burst with happiness, and my next thought was that I couldn’t wait to have another. I can’t even fathom that emotion right now, but it was clear as day. I knew it was wise to wait, but I never really thought of Milo as an only child, even when he was. He was always the first of what would be more. When he was ten months old I made the hard decision to stop nursing him so that I would begin ovulation again and could try to get pregnant. Which I did, quickly. Just weeks later I felt a little nauseous, but relied on the home pregnancy test to confirm. And I was! Again, elation, excitement, and a bit of overwhelm. Somehow, though, this time felt different, and I felt cautious. A few weeks later, as I started to spot, my mother’s intuition quietly whispered that this baby wasn’t well, and this pregnancy wouldn’t last. Confirmed by ultrasound, and then lab work, and then the devastating miscarriage. Growing a family wasn’t cut and dry, it wasn’t like pieces of a puzzle all fitting together just-so. It was a journey, a process, a becoming.

After some mourning, and a few months of recovery, we began to try again, and I soon experienced that familiar flush of joy as my pregnancy test read positive. This time I didn’t hesitate to share the happy news. Pregnancy was tough, as it always is for me, but this baby was so awaited. I was so happy when he finally, finally made it into my arms. And the journey continued.

After Eliot was born, I felt very differently than I had with Milo. Rather than immediately looking ahead to the next baby, I was content to focus on the two. In fact, I told Dave I didn’t want to even talk about having another baby until Eliot was 18 months old, and we didn’t, even though I knew I wanted another someday. We played, and learned, and tried hard to be better parents all the time. A couple times I had symptoms that I connected to pregnancy, like nausea or headaches and I would anxiously await the “not pregnant” on my test, being filled with relief when I saw it. I was tired, happy, and busy with mothering and living. Then, just after the “no-talk zone” I held a new baby at a Christmas party and my mother’s heart told me gently, “Yes, it’s time.” And it was.

This time I made a bunch of changes in my already changed-by-children life to make room for a new baby. I stopped working, cleared out my headspace, slowed down unnecessary extras. We tried, we succeeded. Once again I saw that “pregnant”, which now that I wanted it was so joyous! This time I was confident, but cautious. We had an upcoming vacation, and I asked my midwives to do a blood test just to confirm all was well before I left. The first draw was normal. The results of the second, which I received by email on my vacation, looked ominous. My progesterone had dropped and they counseled that if I began to bleed to please seek medical attention. I was heartbroken. And even more so two days later when I began to bleed. I was felt sick and somber. So much of who I was wrapped up in being a mother, not only to the two beautiful boys that I had, but this next one who was on her way. I cried and questioned, and Dave and I sat together overlooking the ocean and wrapped ourselves in the comfort that we could and would go on, that we were strong and our family was beautiful, and whatever happened was part of our journey. He blessed me to feel peace, and confidently declared that the baby would be safe and healthy.

I stopped bleeding a couple days later, and started feeling more sick than ever. The day after we returned, I saw my healthy, wiggly baby on ultrasound. She was growing, despite a subchorionic bleed that I had experienced. Whoosh, all of the emotions all over again. And again when I discovered she was a girl. And again when she was born.I still feel all the feelings of that first “pregnant” regularly. All of the excitement, fear, peace, hope, overwhelm, and joy fill my heart as I continue the process of becoming. Now that there are no more babies on our family horizon, all that anticipation for newness is manifest in different ways. Starting elementary school, learning to ride bikes, wanting to do and see and learn more. Each beginning their own journey of becoming, and already telling me on occasion what they’ll do differently when they have kids of their own. “When I’m a dad I’ll let my kids eat ice cream for breakfast while they watch ghostbusters.”-Milo, age 5.

My three children are the lesson I continue to learn, day after day after day. I journey along from my beginning into some unknown end, becoming mother.