Well, for every young mom it’s different. Some of us have support, many don’t. Some of us have a partner that is supportive, some don’t. Here’s what being a young mom is like for me.
It’s sitting on the bathroom toilet in Canton, staring at Chris with wide eyes because the test had two lines. It’s laughing excitedly on the way to the grocery store to pick up another pregnancy test, just to be sure. Maybe two. It’s me nervously and slowly telling the people I’m close to, and getting mixed reactions. It's knowing that I'm probably now a topic of conversation for the people that went to my high school. It’s feeling really insecure, ashamed and embarrassed about other people's opinions for a little while, then deciding that I don't really give a shit - this is what's happening in my life, and it doesn't really matter if other people talk about it. It’s Chris and I postponing our plans to move out to California, and it’s us being really sad about that. It’s feeling scared and sad. A lot. It’s throwing up in Chris’ truck multiple times because we couldn’t stop fast enough. It’s throwing up on the way to the bathroom during my college art class. It’s feeling kind of secretly sad that our baby is going to be a boy. It’s being so excited to meet our little baby boy. It’s switching my job because I can’t keep up with lack of sleep and a fast pace anymore. It’s eating a full-size Snickers bar every day for months. It’s crying on Chris’s shoulder because pregnancy sucks, and all of my friends are thin and beautiful and I’ve gained almost half my body weight. It’s crying on Chris’ shoulder because the hormones are spiking up my stress and sadness. It’s going to therapy for the first time in my life. It’s a lot of laying and sitting. It’s laughing about the fact that my belly is so huge that Chris’ XL mens boxers fit tight around my bump. It’s quitting my job. It’s feeling my whole belly flip over because someone is trying to get comfortable. It’s cleaning our entire apartment from top to bottom for someone who won’t even know he’s in an apartment. It’s trying every trick in the book once I hit my due date, including castor oil.
Then, it’s waking up at 3 am and packing a hospital bag. It’s Chris driving us to the hospital at 5 am. It’s my belly contracting, but me not even caring because my heart is racing. It’s being admitted and getting cozy in the hospital room, feeling too excited to be in labor to feel scared that I’m in labor. It’s me never feeling as proud of myself as I did that day, because I pushed and pushed and out flopped a beautiful, screaming, perfect little person. It’s Chris and I, crying, knowing that we had never seen anything so beautiful as our little baby. It’s the lactation nurse trying to make sure my latch is right while the doctor is trying to stitch me up, but I’m not even paying attention because all I can really do is cry and smile and feel light as a feather. It’s two days in the hospital that are a happy, tired blur of Chris and I trying to get a few hours of sleep and get to know Ben. It’s family and friends giving Benjamin love, and showing him what community and support from others looks like.
It’s coming home, and the first week a blur of nursing, adoring, feeling exhausted out of our minds, and crying. It’s feeling really unsure about the little person in front of us - will he breathe okay if I try to sleep? Is he getting enough food? Does he like us? Is this bassinet safe enough? Will he eventually sleep more than an hour at a time? It’s feeling guilty that I am sad about the fact that I won’t have the young, free, independent stage of my life - someone very tiny and vulnerable needs me now, and I need them. It’s Chris and I taking turns trying to get Ben to go to sleep. It’s Chris going back to work, and me feeling very scared and unsure during the day because I had never really taken care of a baby before this. It’s me eventually getting used to it, and learning to read Ben’s little cues and quirks. Its lots of close snuggles, and lots of holding a tiny hand.
Then, suddenly, around three months later, it’s a wide, beautiful, gummy smile. It’s starting to get a schedule down. It’s trying to do anything to get that big, sunny smile to come out again. It’s a tiny, funny little giggle that makes us want to tickle him and surprise him to hear it again. It’s Chris and I feeling like we might be getting this whole parenting thing down. It’s sometimes feeling really sad that we didn’t get a long time to just be the two of us. It’s enjoying the time as a little family of three. It’s feeling frustrated sometimes that it can be hard to get anything done. It’s a smiling, funny baby who is very conversational. It’s talking to this little baby in the kitchen in the morning. It’s a little baby who is in love with our dog, Cooper. It’s soaking in his snuggles - the ones where he grabs my head, pulls me close, and gives me little baby kisses and makes little noises while pressed up against my cheek. It’s never wanting those to end. It’s thinking back on how I used to feel embarrassed and ashamed and being angry at myself for ever feeling embarrassed or ashamed that I was growing someone so perfect. It’s loving a life full of little special moments. Being a young mom fills my heart.
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