Finding Me Again

It is really hard having two children under one year. Hard. But I have decided it is not as hard as being pregnant with a newborn/infant. As I emerge from that state of being, I am realizing that I was in survival mode as I fought nausea, discomfort, exhaustion, sleeplessness, etc. from not just one source but two. There was nothing that wasn’t about the baby or the fetus. Aspects of my wellbeing and independence became secondary. The funny thing was, I didn’t realize any of this at the time. It wasn’t until I came out the other side of my c-section and started being able to do more for myself, that I figured it out.
Yes, the majority of my day is spent keeping small people alive, but it’s different as I can do more for myself and more things that are not about babies.
Today I weeded beds that desperately needed it. In our neighborhood of yard obsessed retirees, the excuse of giving birth is only going to last so long. It was sweaty, dirty, muscle stiffening work, but I had the time and strength to do it. I pushed around a fully loaded wheelbarrow, and it didn’t put the fetus is danger. It was something I did totally unrelated to babies or worrying how it would affected them. This was my household job before I was a mom, and even though I kinda hate it, it was good to get back to it.
It was a physical representation of finding my way back to Duffy not just Mommy.

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