This podcast truly happened when it did because of the story below that Somone shared on facebook a few weeks ago. It touched me so deeply and had so many common threads to conversations I regularly have with new moms. I highly recommend you scroll down and read it before listening!

Episode Highlights:

  • Real talk about motherhood
  • The becoming – from lost to found with our identity
  • Celebrating Capable
  • The tension between gratitude and grief – how to honor both

For more on Amy, visit her Bellies, Babies and Birth Show Page:

Or to listen now click here!

Somone’s Story

A little over a week ago, me and this little dude became partners in crime. I’ve had time to reflect on the past week or so and wanted to share some thoughts… maybe they’ll resonate with someone, maybe this post will be just for me to see in the coming years as a memory.

Being a mom is really difficult.

I didn’t realize and I know I’m barely scratching the surface. The first night after he was born, I’ll never forget the loneliness I felt. Me and him, by ourselves with no one to tell us what to do or how all of this was going to work out. Just darkness and silence and me and him. Would he choke to death vomiting up his special formula if I let myself fall asleep? Would I accidentally drop him? What if he won’t stop crying? What if I’m not good enough to give him a great life? Does that mean I’m a failure as a mom? I am not a person who deals with failure well. I mourned the passing of my old life that night and continue to little by little every day, knowing that my way of life and being are now profoundly changed. Part of me wishes I could go back…stating this for authenticity… hopefully that doesn’t make me a bad person in your eyes… but I feel this way because it is so scary and lonely going through this change right now.

One of the things I looked forward to most was getting back into shape after having the baby. Through my pregnancy I didn’t relish the changes in my body as much as I thought I would. Losing all definition in my body, being breathless and tired from just walking across the room, not feeling strong or athletic. I was coming undone waiting to get back to my “old self”… but now I realize that my old self, even my old body, is gone. That profound change I mentioned above applies even to my physical self. The task of growing a baby and birthing him and now providing his sole food source is almost like a DNA rewrite. I have a deep appreciation for my body today. My “jelly belly” just days ago had a little baby stretching and turning and kicking inside it. How can I look at my body with disappointment or self consciousness knowing what it just did and continues to do to create and sustain the most perfect baby boy? The answer is, I cannot. I cannot measure it against what it used to be because it’s practically a different animal now.

Here is my week out postpartum photo. Nothing glamorous, no cute baby bump- just a belly with loose skin and that signature dark line down the middle (which I hope stays forever), some stretched out panties with a big old maxi pad in them, a too-small bra barely hanging on due to my milk coming in, makeup free and exhausted, in my childhood bathroom. Next week I will be respecting my body with activity that feels good, lots of food (some “good” some not so good), and as much sleep as I can get when I can get it. After that, who knows what I will be compelled to do with my “new” body. I can tell you this though, whatever it is I choose for my mind, body, and spirit, it will be a wholly new experience for me, and as scary as that is, I am determined to relate to it as the blessing it is. After all, in order to grow some parts of us must die.

Thanks for reading xoxo

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