Giving Up Is the Hardest Part

There came a point in about week 2 of new motherhood where I realized that my agenda for my own life was suddenly no longer my own. A new wee human has one agenda. And you, at least the self you formerly knew, whose personality you came to trust, the personality that is now molting off of you no matter how hard you cling, have another agenda.

Guess whose agenda always wins?

Responsible doesn't seem to be a strong enough word for what is required for a newborn. Responsible under threat of death. Responsible in your sleep. Responsible till the point your veins and heart and lungs literally pump responsibility seem a little more correct.

A smart person would take a long good look in the mirror and say, "Adios Daisy I used to know! And then take a long, good look at what this new Daisy looks like. Caution - it will look a lot like someone you were never going to be: pajamas at noon, a deflated basketball where your stomach used to be, hair dreadlocking (dammit! why wouldn't it do that when I followed Phish?), and sleep deprivation that makes you the meanest person this side of a rabid raccoon. And you would be wise to embrace this new person and accept that you will no longer get work done when you want, that you will no longer get to sleep when you want, that you will no longer get to eat when you want, that you will no longer write blog posts when you want (point gotten yet?). Then, once beaten down beyond recognition you will become very calm and allow the current of responsibility to wisk you away into territories unknown.

I feel there must be a peace to this. In fact I know there is! I've experienced it. The mothering moment of zen when you realize that life is so much simpler when you just go with the flow and rock the baby instead of eating lunch or when you just accept that you will go for a walk instead of doing laundry. It is actually quite soothing - most of these baby needs. Reading a board book, squeaking a giraffe, crinkling a crinkly sounding thing. Who doesn't like a nice pleasant stroll?

But this first moment of acceptance is where they trick you! Soon a pattern emerges and your wee babe starts to eat and sleep at more or less of the same time and your old self starts slowing coming back. And you get used to this new sort of yourself that still has it's own agenda. You plan around these eatings and sleepings.

And them

WHAM! They change it up on you. Back to the drawing board, silly mother (former member of the human race).

The baby will keep forcing and molding you until not one last ounce of self-agenda remains. You are a puddle of non-will. You are a tadpole in a current. You are but a person for a cause that may not (necessarily) be your own.

And the trick I guess, is to find peace in the flow.

Yeah, I'm still working on that.

Postscript: 




(This blog post took "3" hours to write)