Motherhood

“Mother” is a title that never seemed natural to me and still does not to this day. I never thought I would have children until it happened to me. I did not have any expectations prior to becoming a mother about what this role would mean. My husband told me yesterday that maybe motherhood is not for me. And, in this moment, I also feel that it is not for me.

I love my son.. I think. He is cute and has a smell that makes my heart sparkle. I love his squishy belly and his slobbery smile.

I meet his needs, take him on walks, swing him in the park, and constantly kiss and hug him.

However, I spend most of my day thinking of all the things I could be doing if I was not stuck at home with him.

Or, I sit planning how I am going to make my dreams come true despite the reality I am facing. “Maybe I can carry him along with me everywhere,” “Or perhaps I can put him in daycare, get a job, and get on with my life.”

My searches on google include “Does Angela Merkel have children?”

Google responds “She does not have children of her own, but two adult stepchildren.”

I ask google again “Does the Prime Minister of New Zealand have children?”

Google responds, “Yes, one child, a girl born in 2018.”

“Bingo.” I think to myself. “This means I CAN do it. I can be successful, have a career and raise a child”

And then I remember the nannies that people of such status can afford and resume my search again.

And nights. The long, dark, unending nights. The screams in the dark that wake me hourly.

He has not slept in one year.

I wake up each day and continue to caffeinate myself to the point I can stumble through the day.

He cries and whines to the point my ears are ringing. If I even want to have a sip of water, he cries about that. I just don’t know how I can deal with this for years and years on end.

I am beginning to regret some of my parenthood choices. Maybe if I did not breastfeed, my son would sleep longer and not be so attached. If I would have went to work after 6 weeks, maybe my son would be more comfortable with strangers.

Should I sleep train? Should I let him cry it out? Why can’t I stop breastfeeding at this moment?

I remember feeling overwhelmed shortly after my son was born and mothers told me, “Don’t worry. It gets better Mama.”

I am beginning to think that this was a huge lie and that I am stuck in this misery forever.

Today is a day that I am searching for answers.