I’ve figured out that becoming a mom can really mess with your self-esteem.
Sure, you did something that no man could do- and kudos to you for doing it!- but I’m pretty sure- no, I’m positive- that if men were actually ABLE to give birth, the human race would have ended with Cain…
and I’m not so sure I would have blamed Adam in the least.
So, maybe boasting about my ability to run the race that is “labor and delivery” is less of an accomplishment and more of a walking, talking testament to my insanity. When you really think about it, all moms are masochists. Even if you didn’t willingly go through labor or a c-section- if you took the adoption route- you still made a conscious decision to let your heart walk around outside of your body. If that’s not asking for pain, I don’t know what is.
And then, after its all said and done, not only do you have a baby to show for your efforts, but now you have many other “badges of honor”: bags under your eyes from lack of sleep, a saggy stomach, stretch marks, and swollen- well, yeah. I’m actually in awe of the women I hear about with kids only 10 months apart- with them, for WANTING their husbands near them so soon after, but also with their husbands, for not being scared off.
Me? I did everything but put up a barbed wire fence around my side of the bed.
Of course, my husband is wonderful. He tells me I’m beautiful everyday. I love his dishonesty. Its like that song that says “Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies”- it NEARLY changes my perception of myself momentarily when I look in the mirror.
Until my sweet, honest 4 year old climbs onto my lap and says,”I love how fluffy you are, Mom.”