I have a 2 month old, officially. When I was pregnant with Lia someone told me it takes about 8 weeks for a new baby to adjust to the outside world but I think it takes me about that much time to really fall head over heels in love. The beginning is so instinctual: feed, change diaper, snuggle repeat. There is so much going on physically, mentally, emotionally.
Last night I was driving home and was thinking about how much life right now feels like it did when I was in my 20s living alone in Chicago with a goofy grin on my face walking to my apartment in the middle of the night from a party or other gathering and feeling so happy, exhilarated, some natural high of contentment. It was a period of time I refer to as the “great love affair with myself”. Motherhood, especially the beginning feels very much the same, at least for me. I feel giddy. Its an opportunity to fall in love with this new, beautiful being and a chance to fall in love all over again with my husband and daughter and our family. Its so cool how much love this little guy has brought to us in such a short time. I’m so thankful I had that time to myself, that my husband and I had some time with each other before having kids, that we had time with just Lia…. I’m just thankful.
At the same time there are moments when I have a really hard time seeing this new version of my body. I didn’t get any stretch marks with Lia so it never occurred to me that I could get them this time around and yet here they are all over the place telling their own story of how we got here. I tried my best to sit with those feelings yesterday as my ego got the better of me. It is slightly ironic that I was wearing maternity clothes at 9 weeks pregnant already thinking, “I look huge!” and here I am 9 weeks post partum out of maternity clothes and thinking the same thing and in either instance the number on the scale didn’t really change anything about what really matters in life (and I probably am not even as big as I think I am). So, there’s that.