Being a mama

The thing about being mama is that, for the first time, you absolutely have to always put someone else first. He needs me.

Where I've needed nurturing, I've not noticed as I've been busy nurturing my precious child. Where I've been running low on energy, what energy I had left, was for him.

I've recently been receiving acupuncture for the arthritis in my hands and have been given a lengthy massage session as a gift (which I enjoyed yesterday) and all these things increase my milk flow and make me feel full of something I'd forgotten I'd needed - that is, the feeling of being nurtured. My heart is so overflowing with love for my little helpless creature, that I'd forgotten to refill it with love for myself. I'd not noticed it was depleted of care for me.

Being a mama is a massive identity shift for me - I'll never be alone again. During my acupuncture, my child was afraid and cried out for me. He wanted to feed, to be close. I lay him on my chest, my legs and the top of my head full of needles, and he fed and was comforted throughout the session. Even during my massage, which was as enjoyable as always, my mind couldn't fully empty because I could hear a tiny heart beating across town. I could feel him smiling in his sleep. A few times I thought I heard him cry. My ears and my own heart so fully attuned to him, his sounds, his movements. I wonder when this state of alertness will lessen. I wonder when the reaction will disappear to spring fully awake at the first sign of anything being amiss.

I wonder if I will ever return to the person I was before.

I realise that I wasn't prepared for this. Pregnancy did not prepare me. It has been like walking through a one-day door into another world. There is no way back.

I've been reading some things for a while on the changes in identity during motherhood (Birth of a Mother was particularly interesting), but I didn't realise how much I would crave 'me'. I don't miss the things I did, much. I don't even miss who I was (and there was definitely someone that I was before, that I am no longer). What I miss is knowing who I am.