Friends, hi!
I didn’t think I’d have anything wise to say about motherhood by my first Mother’s Day, and six weeks in, that expectation holds true. In one hand, I’m holding the cup of coffee I’ll never quite manage to drink while it’s hot – ever again. In the other, the memory of the last few Mother’s Days I spent privately wanting this *gestures broadly at baby swaddled in bassinet, stained nursing bra, and breast pump next to my laptop*. Hoping for all of this, not specifically, but somehow exactly. The fullness of this moment, the hope I’ve held for years, and the unscathed nipples I had last year, aren’t lost on me.
(I talked a bit about my pregnancy journey here.)
I’m just thrilled BEYOND that I get to share with you! In early April, we welcomed our son, John Lesly Jorgensen, into the world. Me, at 44 years old. Him arriving loud and certain at six pounds / fifteen ounces of absolute wonder and surprisingly strong opinions. A seventh-generation Texan (a detail that carries great weight in his Texas family) and an Aries baby, baby!
Birth? We don’t need to get into that. In fact, I’m working diligently to forget a few of those finer details, thank you very much. What I will say is that the result was a boy born with a soft swirl of brown hair at the crown of his head, strong preferences about how he’d like to be swaddled, and deep navy eyes that may settle into blue or brown or something entirely his own. Understatement of the year: it’s pretty cool!
Now, in the process of getting to know him, I’ve come up with a short list of truths and a longer list of questions. Here are a few of them.
Things Motherhood (and postpartum, yahoooo!) Have Unlocked So Far (A Working, Bleary-Eyed List):
• First, the exhaustion of it all. Mmmmkay yes, that’s real. Motherhood has unlocked a level of deep tired I didn’t know was available to me. You know in movies when a hypnotist snaps their fingers and says sleep and someone immediately collapses? I get that now. If anyone jingled keys in front of my face and suggested a nap, I’d fold like a lawn chair.
• Strangely, right alongside that exhaustion is patience. A brand new tool in the toolbox and absolutely essential – huzzah! Helpful tools in building patience: perspective and pacifiers (which are, for reasons no one can explain, nearly impossible to locate between the hours of 1am and 5am when they are most critical).
• Now this may be specific to my postpartum experience, but it needs to be addressed: is it just me, or is Mark Ruffalo in everything? I feel like I’ve seen him in every show and movie I’ve nursed through and dozed off to these past six weeks. I genuinely cannot tell if he is everywhere or if I am watching the same thing over and over again. Please advise.
• Casually… and this comes as more of a question than a truth: what are we doing about our nipples? I can barely think about them without them hurting, and unfortunately I will not be seeking out yet another stranger to aggressively coach me on breastfeeding optimization. I simply cannot handle it at this time but I do hope you can tell me broadly what to do about them.
• Another gentle pondering: will my abs ever come back together or nah?
• And what is this torture device you call a breast pump? I’m counting the weeks before it goes the way of the printer in Office Space.
• My husband Will leaving coffee and breakfast on my nightstand every morning has been a lifesaver! Other small mercies include my parents’ month-long visit to Texas where I’m still discovering corner of the house my mom and dad cleaned and organized. Audiobooks (shoutout Lilith Lit Book Club). Trader Joe’s trail mix. Ultima electrolytes topped with coconut water. A nightly shower vacation.
• And time is different now. Softer around the edges. Blurry, actually? A whole day disappears into feeding, changing, soothing, and repeating until suddenly it’s dark again. I’ve found that what matters most is how I show up in those squishy hours. I’m grasping for every bit of grace and gratitude because as soft as time feels, it’s also flying.
Aside from these tiny truths, I overflow with gratitude for this chance to raise our boy alongside Will and our families. Thank goodness for grandparents and great aunts and uncles, and dozens of aunties (biological and otherwise). Gratitude for the women who have mothered me (especially my mom, Patty Wilson – still the gold standard), and all my girlfriends who have entered motherhood before me and shown, by example, how to care for another person with devotion, humor, full-time jobs… and still occasionally make it out to happy hour. Incredible!
So, since I’m new here, at the very top of this specific journey. Since I need some words of actual wisdom to read through come 3am when John takes to breastfeeding like a frenzied gremlin. This post, along with your postpartum wisdom, has been a buoy in the middle of the night. So, I have a question for you:
What’s your best mothering advice?
What wisdom have you earned along the way? Big or small, practical or hard-won. What has helped you trust yourself in it?
Tell me anything and everything. I’d love to read it all.
And however you mother – through babies, grown children, in friendships, or by letting the dogs jump on the bed for belly rubs every morning, I want to wish you a Happy Mother’s Day!
My love and gratitude to you, friend!
xo Joy
p.s. Tron would like to note that he’s taken to big brotherhood rather against his will. It’s inspired a bought of geriatric cat arthritis he blames baby John for. He begrudgingly admits that he is being exceptionally cared for and continues to be spoiled mightily.
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