After having Jeffrey, I suddenly felt like I was instantly initiated into what I call The Mother Club. While I was a mother since the moment the two lines showed up, it wasn’t completely real and true until I shoved that little boy out of me. I was suddenly, with no going back, a mother. And I belonged to The Club.
There’s suddenly this big thing in my life, one of the most important things about my daily life and something that defines me that I share with millions and billions (?) of women around the whole world. We might not have anything else in common, but if I saw another mother at the store or the park we could lament about sleepless nights, poopy diapers and the pain of labor. We would have a common ground and a way to bond if nothing else but for that moment of understanding what the other goes through on a daily basis.
It’s a pretty weird feeling. Because I feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself while at the same time, I don’t feel any different. I know I’m a mother, I love my son with all my heart but I don’t feel changed. I’ve said (to myself and Scott) since the beginning of my pregnancy that I want to be honest about my depression and my self as a person to our children. Because I think most kids don’t see their parents as people too, ya know? It’s hard to see your parent as anything other than a parent. But we have emotions and lives outside of our kids too. And I knew that. But it didn’t sink in until after I had Jeffrey.
Now I’m part of this Mother Club but I’m still me.