I’m a mother

I’m a mother.  I say it to myself, I even say it out loud, but sometimes it doesn’t even feel real?!  I created a human??? I have a child?? A living, breathing, eating creature who counts on me every. single. day.??!!!  I wonder if it will ever feel real, probably in some ways yes, and others no…..The gift of creating life.


I’m a mother.  My son Parker will be five months next week, 3 months adjusted (he was born two months premature), and I wonder if it will ever not be shocking, to be someone’s mother.  I had a very long time of just being myself, that I literally stop myself dead in my tracks sometimes, and realize I’m not who I was, I’m so, so much more.


I’m a mother.  When I’m tired, and exhaustion has hit levels I never even knew were possible, I am reminded that I’m a mother, because I know that catching up on sleep, is not a possibility…until maybe “they’re” 18?


I’m a mother.   What are my needs anyway, or what were my needs once upon a five months ago?  I used to go run an errand or workout and didn’t have to pack my car with 8 “necessary” items to do so.  Oh the things those tiny little babies “need” for such a small amount of time.  What did our founding fathers and cave men do without newborn loungers and nursing pillows anyway?  I remember when I thought life back then was hard, boy was I naive.  Life was, well, simple.


I’m a mother.  Life is far from simple, and my heart has millions of new pores and emotions.   I do not feel any peace until my baby is fed and is happy.  Only then, can I even think about putting a morsel of food in my mouth.  My concern is my child, and I eat to nourish my child as a breastfeeding mama.  I see time, as in “when do I need to feed my son,” or do I need to pump to keep my supply up… I do not see a clock and numbers anymore.


I’m a mother.  I imagined being one, I had NO idea how hard it would be to be one, and I also didn’t know how full my heart and life would get as a result.  I am forever changed, shifted, altered, for the better of course.  Life “pre baby” seems so far away, and so simple, almost like I was a teenager forever, and this, this is the real sh*t.


I’m a mother.  Every single thing I do is with my son in the back of my head.  I do not make any choice without wondering how it impacts my child. And, I have a husband, who is my love, and my partner, and we fight and we laugh, and we are a freaking team in this new thing called parenting.  We look at each other and lean on each other, and not every day is beautiful, but every day is a gift. Life is scary, life is harder, life is different, but it’s brighter, bigger, and so, so much more meaningful.


I’m a mother.  My clothes are shaggy, my nails need to be painted, and I haven’t slept in five months.  But, every time I’m alone, and maybe see a glimpse of my old self, I remember that girl well…….  She was dreaming of becoming the woman, the mother, I am today.


Namaste, and Rock On!

“I didn’t lose myself when I became a mother, I found myself.”

Post navigation

  7 Replies to “I’m a mother”

  1. August 4, 2016 at 9:12 pm

    Said perfectly and know exactly what you mean as I also found myself when I became a mom as well <3

  2. Terri Driver
    August 4, 2016 at 10:06 pm

    Your words are beautiful. Parker is lucky to have you as his mother. God bless you, your husband, and Parker

  3. August 5, 2016 at 1:17 am

    Perfect !

  4. Joe Della Ferra
    August 5, 2016 at 5:45 am

    Enjoy each day!

  5. Soul Sister
    August 5, 2016 at 6:39 am

    Love you soul sista!!

  6. Elena Mastroianni
    August 5, 2016 at 7:35 am

    A beautiful “love letter” and gift to those whom you love, Lindsay. ❤️

  7. August 5, 2016 at 3:31 pm

    Seven years later, no, it’s still weird to say! It’s like when you get your driver’s license and it never really gets old if you wrap your head around the fact that you can go anywhere you want!
    This is even better.
    You’re better than me, though. Here, Mama needs to eat first! Sanity. Although I’m not nursing so I’m sure I’ve amended it a few times.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.