"I wish I could go back and tell myself during those first few discouraging days of motherhood, when I thought, This is it?, that Yes, this is it. This and this and this and this and this . . . I wish I could have told myself that it would be everything and more," Rindi Jacobsen writes. "Just hang in there. Keep trying. Keep going. It’ll be better in two weeks."
When I first set out to be a mother, I had grand ideas. I was ambitious. I jumped into motherhood with both feet and approached it with a cheerful smile. Oh, what a mother I thought I was going to be!
I know women come into motherhood in completely different ways. Some are hesitant; some are reluctant; and some are surprised to find how much they love it. Some are relaxed; some are along for the ride; and some are in full-on survival mode. I think at times I have felt all of these attitudes during my years as a mother. But in the beginning, I was just excited to get started. I couldn’t wait for bedtime stories, after-school snacks, outdoor adventures, piano lessons, sports practices, and lots of love.
About three days into my motherhood adventure, I sat on my old couch in my dark apartment, so full of milk I thought I would burst, and a baby fussing to be fed. My eyes were a bit glazed over from a lack of sleep, but I could sort of see my own loving mother handing me a freshly-washed breast pump while she cradled my brand-new baby in her other arm. I sat there like a wet, exhausted lump of dough. I felt a panic creeping up into my throat. Is this motherhood? I thought, frantically.