MY HONEST THOUGHTS: Independence + The Mental Load of Motherhood
My husband went back to work today… I count us as the lucky ones, two business owners who have the privilege to take eight weeks of blissful maternity/paternity leave with our son Rylan. Fathers are often left out of the equation completely and I honestly couldn’t have made it through those first eight weeks without him here. But, even our leaves come with great consequences: no income for me and cutting back on work for him. So, even as privileged as it has been, it’s also been daunting. If I think too long about the parental leave policy in the US, I cringe. But, that’s another blog for another day.
Yesterday, my anxiety about Chris going back to work all came crashing down. Our casual conversation on the couch turned into one where your sleeves are completely soaked in snot and tears and nothing feels better than a good shower afterwards. In my mind, it’s not so much about him going back to work and not being home, it’s more about how his independence has changed in dramatically different ways than mine. For Chris his work is his creative outlet. He loves being home with Rylan and I, but he also needs to fill this cup,that ultimately leads to his duties at home and being a husband, and now father, being more intentional and full. Chris has always been independent, not needing much but, craves travel and alone time on his bike… Now in this season, he’s getting micro-independence in spurts because his responsibilities and priorities have had to shift. For me, I’ve had my time traveling the world and over the years have come to love being at home. I don’t necessarily require time away to feel full. I legitimately love being a homemaker and a mother (something I would have choked to hear myself say five years ago). We both have less “us” time.
My time, body, sleep, thoughts, independence all changed the second I found out I was pregnant. I was instantly sick as a dog: puking twelve times a day until around 30 weeks, unable to eat or drink, barely crawling out of bed to shower. Let’s just say pregnancy wasn’t glamorous for me. It was real, raw, crushing, and after so many years of defeat in the baby department, I didn’t know why I had wished for this. Looking back, I can 10/10 tell you it was all completely and totally and wildly worth it. My son is by far the absolute best thing that I’ve ever laid eyes on. My body created and is sustaining life but nothing about it feels the same. My hips have shifted, I have boobs for the first time in my life, stretch marks cover my body, a still fractured tailbone, and an overall softness to my body that I’m still not used to. That alone feels like a lot. My sleep is disoriented and blurry and the unknowns of a night with a newborn feel tense. My schedule revolves around making sure I’m eating enough so I can provide enough. Ensuring Rylan is healthy and happy and looking out for all the things my pediatric nurse brain considers red flags (I wish I didn’t know the things I know). Wondering “is this supposed to be this easy?” and “there is NO way this is supposed to be this hard?” and the famous “is he overtired or hungry?”
Some days all I want is thirty minutes to just be in my own body. No demands, nobody talking, no baby tugging on my boob, no phone notifications, nothing to do. The first time this thought creeped in I felt immense guilt. A few weeks ago I had those magical thirty minutes as my son magically took a nap somewhere other than my body. For those thirty minutes, I stared at him, just wanting to scoop him up and put his body on mine. Chris joked that when I do get free time, I just look at Rylan.
Last week, I left for two hours to go have some me-time with my mom. The sheer mental load of leaving your baby, even with their dedicated and capable father, absolutely blows my mind. The prep is insane. Especially with a baby that 50/50 shot will take a bottle (kid loves it straight from the source) and really only soothes well with me. It’s draining to even consider and often it is just easier to take him with me. Setting Chris up for success while I’m gone so we can all have less anxiety is crucial. And I learned during those two hours that *I* am not ready to be away from my baby and that is biologically okay. I wanted those two hours and then the second I had them all I thought about was Rylan and how my body ached because I missed him. I think that must mean I am a mother now?
The part that I’ve struggled with the most is, while Chris’s independence has changed in ways different than mine, it’s still easy for him to leave. He can change his clothes and go on a bike ride without giving everything else too much thought. He can go outside without having a baby strapped to him (often he does though!). He is needed by Rylan in different ways. For me to go, it requires that two hour mental mind game and logistical prep to make sure Rylan is fed, a bottle is ready just in case, and Chris knows nap time. It’s just not so simple.
Parenthood is a trip. The magnitude we love our son is wild. I’m feeling this way even with a supportive partner who cooks, cleans, does the dishes, starts the laundry and makes sure I’m eating enough. I’m recognizing how temporary this all is and in a few years Ry will be his dad’s best friend and I’ll be yearning to juggle the hoops to leave again. To be needed in this way is an honor, but damn, it’s hard.