Motherhood is a Verb

This is such a sweet guest post from Rachel about the reality of mothering a newborn. (I have totally been there with the projectile poo.)

 

If I’ve learned anything about motherhood so far, it’s this:

Motherhood is like a clay sculpture.

The big moments and milestones may define its basic shape, but the real artistry emerges from the trenches—and the minutia—of daily living. The true beauty of motherhood is meticulously molded from hundreds of little moments—those humbling (and often hilarious) acts of day-to-day mothering. After all, the word “mother” not only a noun. It’s also a verb. And it’s something we mothers do every single second of every single day.

Below is just a small snapshot of moments that defined my early days of motherhood—the good, the bad, the funny, the sad. Can you think of a few vivid moments that helped shape your motherhood masterpiece?

Sometimes motherhood is …

naively “swinging by” the Starbucks drive-thru to celebrate that the baby finally fell asleep in the car seat—only to have him start screaming the precise moment you stop at the window to pay. Because no white chocolate mint latte is truly complete without a dollop of mommy guilt.

Sometimes motherhood is …

scarfing down lunch while strapped to a double-electric breast pump, watching your udders deflate while using your big toe to rock the car seat next to you, as it’s the ONLY thing your newborn will snooze in. (Good thing we bought those two pack and plays. And a crib.)

Sometimes motherhood is …

getting projectile pooped-on while taking your very first rectal temperature. (And then maybe waiting an inappropriately long time to change shirts. Meh.)

Sometimes motherhood is …

giving your neighbors a free daily peep show as you traipse through the house with your ta-tas completely hanging out in order to let your cracked nipples absorb the booby lube (nipple cream). Oh, didn’t you know? Bras and shirts are 500% optional during the newborn stage.

Sometimes motherhood is …

giving in to your daily urge to compulsively and uncontrollably kiss your baby’s cheeks (the ones on their face, not their bum … well, whatever floats your boat). I mean, for realsies: is there anything cuter than those chubby little chipmunk cheeks.

Sometimes motherhood is …

surrendering all of your pre-preggo pants to charity because your hips don’t lie … and they also don’t magically narrow after childbirth. (On the plus side, you’ll be able to rock a killer hourglass figure—that is, if you ever manage to lose the inner-tube pooch around your middle.)

Sometimes motherhood is …

chugging a chocolate protein shake through a straw (provided by your amazing partner) because you feel a bit woozy nursing your newborn for the 100th time today. You know how people offer water to marathoners as they pass by? Cluster feeding is pretty much like that.

Sometimes motherhood is …

ugly crying in the shower because you secretly (and desperately) mourn the life you had before motherhood. It’s OK. This doesn’t make you a bad mom. This makes you human.

Sometimes motherhood is …

tasting your own tears with your smile as you rock your sleeping angel because he’s just so damn beautiful. And innocent. And devastatingly, heartbreakingly perfect.

 

Written By
More from Rachel Guyah

Motherhood is a Verb

  If I’ve learned anything about motherhood so far, it’s this: Motherhood...
Read More

1 Comment

  • [email protected] says:

    Hilarious read! Thank you for my middle-of-the-night feeding entertainment!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *