Balancing in Heels with a Baby on Your Hip
Does reading something you can relate to give you the warm and fuzzies? Me too. Do you sometimes need to hear that you’re not alone, that you’re appreciated and extraordinary? Me too. This one’s for you!
Can you stop for a moment and absorb the idea that you are doing an amazing job? Yes, you. Growing, birthing, feeding, and raising tiny humans to be healthy, happy, contributing members of society is not for the faint of heart. And whether you get up in the morning and go to work or grind it out on the home front, you’re doing it. Every day. There are no breaks, there is no real time away. No overtime or PTO or long weekends. Because be it in body or mind, your Mom hat is always on. Mine is a Chicago Cubs baseball cap, yours might be a pretty suede of the brimmed variety. Regardless, it’s always on and the thoughts or worries are always there. Turning them off is not only improbable, it’s impossible. It has been since the day you found out you were expecting. The you you were just a second before that? She immediately took a backseat to that baby. And it has likely stayed that way. It’s not to say you’re gone, you’ve just been knocked down a peg. Motherhood will do that to you, if you have a soul. And if you don’t, this is your exit. #byefelicia
For all that you are and all that you do, thank you. Because it truly takes a village. A village of baseball capped, wide-brimmed Mom hats to raise families and parents alike. Sometimes we’re too proud to accept the help. Other times we take our Starbucks with a splash of “seriously?” as we judge from behind the arrogance of our little green straws. (Oh, you? Never? Liar.) But when all is said and done we’re in this together because really, motherhood has no mercy on any of us. I’ve heard and heeded your advice, begged and soaked up your support.
On my darkest of days, you were there to remind me of my least favorite but most painfully true aspect of this journey: It won’t be this way forever. You’ve told me I look tired and my grays are showing, and to remember that I can’t pour from an empty cup. So I ate ice cream and drank wine and let my dog lick my face and felt new again. You’ve smiled at me from across a crowded restaurant while I struggled to nurse my baby in public, risking life and limb so as not to free the nipple. Reminding me that I’m not alone in my commitment. You’ve held a door. Carried a bag. Cooed at my crying baby. You’ve even just let me cry because you know that sometimes that’s all that can be done anyway. You’ve offered your solidarity in countless fashions and I want to offer mine.
I see you Mama. Balancing in heels with a baby on your hip. I see you Mama. Drinking cold coffee at 2pm. I see you Mama. Making sure that baby naps even though you haven’t slept in 3 nights. I see you struggling with that stroller or racing out of the grocery store with a screaming toddler. WE see you. Your village of Mom Hats. We hide behind designer purses that hold diapers, and perfectly sculpted curls that disguise postpartum hair loss. Or let’s be honest, we’re usually hiding behind yoga pants and messy mom buns. We may not always say anything, but we’re there. Quietly relating, empathizing. Because no matter what our differences or appearances might be, we have the same goals and struggles when you strip it all down to the core. You are never alone, and never forget it.
