It’s still me.
Well, sort of.
I’m here, but another version entirely.
I’m in a bubble of longing and love.
I know you messaged me this morning…or was it yesterday? It’s all a bit of a blur and my phone is buried somewhere on my bedside that has never felt so small.
I so badly want to reconnect with you, but I’m trying to reconnect with me too.
I’m canceling a lot and it’s hard to say why. The anxiety has held me prisoner here a bit, and I want to talk about nothing and everything. I want to pour a glass of wine and laugh with you, but I don’t know how to be the girl of yesterday.
I also want to try and get some sleep, but even when I’m able to I’m scrolling through photos or checking if he’s breathing in his crib.
I’ve never had such fulfillment, but I feel a bit empty right now, even though the room is full, even though my heart is too.
I’m still accepting that my milestones now are first smiles and the way he now looks at me in true focus. I told my husband he must definitely know I’m his mother by now.
I wonder if there will be anything else I can talk about. I think some days I’m still truly waiting for this to all hit me.
I’m a mother now.
My nights aren’t popping bottles, they’re pouring milk into them or figuring out the latch. I’m trying to find time to eat a full meal or shower. Can you believe I plan that stuff now?
I’m not waking up with a hangover and texting you straight away about last night’s antics. I still feel hungover, but I’m not the one who’s been drinking all night.
My bones ache, my heart aches, and I also have a headache. I think from this constant mom bun my hair just stays in.
I’m not sure I can hold it all together. I know I don’t have to with you, but right now I just need to try.
This is my life right now. Nap schedules, nightgowns at 2 p.m., google searches, doctor appointments, and a constant reminder that my phone storage is full.
It’s hard to swallow but I want to inhale it all.
Oh, it’s a whirlwind friend, but one I’m glad to be caught up in.
Please keep checking in.
Please keep inviting me.
It means more than you know.
I’ll be back.
In some shape or form.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Jess Urlichs. You can follow her journey on Facebook and Instagram. Submit your own story here, and be sure to subscribeto our free email newsletter for our best stories.
Read more from Jess:
‘You’ll question if you’re doing anything right. Panic, second guess. You’ll rise in the dead of night, time after time, and wonder if you’re enough.’: Mom shares touching letter to mothers, ‘It isn’t easy, but it is so, so worth it’
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