We have had our first rain storm of the season during the last couple of days, and it is so lovely to finally feel the seasons changing. I think I needed something as strong as a storm to get me out of my flip-flops and into proper shoes and socks. For the last nine years, I have taught in the fall, so the change of seasons is normally marked by stacks of essays and student excuses. Now, every day feels much the same, and I have a hard time remembering what month it is. In so many ways, my life is unrecognizable, and yet it all somehow makes sense. I’m gladly exchanging those stacks of essays for stacks of diapers.
I’m almost six weeks into this being-a-mom gig, and I love it. Is it weird that I don’t even mind the nighttime feedings? Sure there are those nights when he has only slept for two hours, and so have I, and I would really like to keep sleeping, but we manage, and as soon as I see his eyes wide open and his mouth wide open any mild frustration with having to wake up so soon dissolves. Most of the time, he’s really not a high maintenance baby–so far. I always qualify any of these positive comments in this way because I’m waiting for the all-night wailing to sneak up on me. So far, we’re really, really, super-duper lucky–and believe me, we know it.
Today I had my six week postpartum appointment with the midwife. It was quick, and I’m back in working order. It seems my tear has healed (although it still hurts a bit), and I’m free to have baths and swim and go into the hot tub. It was so lovely to see S, the midwife who attended our delivery, and she adored Baby Genius. It really is fun to show him off. I was also weighed for the first time since my pregnancy: I’m down thirty pounds from my top pregnancy weight. I’m down twenty-six pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I knew I was smaller, but that’s just insane!
What wasn’t so fabulous was that S discovered my right ovary is enlarged. At first she said it was probably just hormones, and we’d check it out at my annual exam in January. But then she called me to tell me that it was bothering her and that she’d like me to have an ultrasound. Now I’m a bit bothered as well. Oh how I hope this is nothing I need to worry about.
I can’t believe that this was my last pregnancy-related appointment. This really was a significant day for me, and part of me was a little scared to see it come and go. Sometimes it is just so hard for me to believe that my pregnancy is finished. It went by so incredibly quickly. I spent a good amount of time mourning it during my first two weeks postpartum, and I still have the occasional pang when I see a big round belly–or photos of mine. I think it had to do with not knowing who I was post-pregnancy. I so easily embraced the identity of a pregnant me, and now I’ve got a new identity to embrace, and for some reason, that transition has been rocky. Lately, it’s making more sense to me, and I’m more easily saying goodbye to those beautiful months I spent gestating. It helps to see my son, in all his cherubic glory, kick-kick-kicking just as I imagined he was doing in the womb. It helps to look at the sweet foot that so frequently stuck out of the top of my belly. It helps all the more to see his big, wide-mouthed grin and to hug him close and to know that I’ve finally got what I have always wanted. Yeah, that helps a lot.
So here I am–T, the mom.