I am MOM

M O M…. A three-letter word which I avoided owning for a very long time.

 

I didn’t think I was good enough to be a Mom and with some tragedies that happened in my life, I honestly didn’t think I wanted the responsibility. I didn’t think I was deserving of being a Mom when I became one. In fact, I wasn’t married, I wasn’t done with school. My life thus far hadn’t accomplished much to be proud of. And I didn’t think I knew enough to be a Mom to a child. I certainly wasn’t set up financially or stable even myself enough to care for the child. And I didn’t have a relationship with myself. Or one which I could rely on and know who I was when things got tough.

I thought that the most important thing was for me to put myself out there for men to like me. And that would mean I would love myself. When I found that didn’t work, I would go shopping to make myself feel better and ‘connect to me,’ which didn’t work either. I started moving my room around. Rearranging furniture in my house, throwing things away that I no longer needed amongst other things.

 

When I found out I was pregnant with Leila, I found out by accident.

On the second to last day of camp counseling for the summer, I blacked out while running to a slip and slide in the grass. I remember running to the slip and slide, and then things went black. And I remember hitting the ground, and waking up with a really bad headache.

I was driven to the nearby hospital with the Camp Director. And when the nurse told me I needed to get a CAT scan, I needed to take a urine sample because they needed to make sure I wasn’t pregnant. I, of course, said there’s no way that’s possible but took the test anyways.

The next part was probably the most embarrassed I had been in my life to that point. The nurse came back into the room I was waiting in, with the MALE Camp Director waiting right outside my room with an open door, and told me that I was pregnant.

I think I went dark again. From embarrassment, from shock, from shame, from disappointment, and probably from the concussion I had.

I remember being wheeled into the room with the CAT scan, with the Camp Director following right behind the bed. And the intern doctor further explaining the reason they have to put a lead cover over me so they don’t hurt the baby.

 

I wanted it to be over and the quicker the better.

I was hoping it was all a bad dream. And that I would wake up and life would go back to normal. I don’t remember how I got home that day. I do remember going straight to bed, and trying to stay in bed for the next 2 days.

 

It might have been the first time I had depression in my life. I’ve never had it, but this is how I imagine it being. I didn’t leave my room, I didn’t eat, I called off work of my Serving/Bartending job. And I didn’t do anything except get more and more anxious and worried about this new situation.

I was about to enter my senior year in college – 2 semesters and I was done. First person in my family to achieve a Bachelor’s Degree and I thought my world was ending. In my mind, I was a huge disappointment, a failure, that my family would disown me, that I didn’t know how I was going to care for this little thing, how I was going to feed it, how I would keep a roof over its head, I was barely paying my bills for me.

I think at one point, I thought that I could wish and think it away. Which worked until the morning sickness settled in and I had a hard time brushing my teeth without feeling sick. I was so tired. I wasn’t waking up for classes. And I was still in denial and trying to figure out the perfect situation and time to tell everyone…. Which didn’t happen until I was almost 6 months along.

 

I went to all of my appointments alone.

I got myself government assistance alone. And I decided on a first name alone. I thought this situation was one I needed to face alone, because I created it and didn’t want to burden anyone else with it. I didn’t feel like I deserved to be the M O M word so I wasn’t going to share with anyone that I was soon to be one.

 

Once I finally let the cat out of the bag, I didn’t have to hide this, and my family didn’t disown me. I did receive support, and I didn’t have to do it alone anymore. It became increasingly difficult as my belly was growing to avoid or convince my mind that this was a dream. It started to become more of a reality and one I’m still not fond of after having a second child.

 

When Leila was born, I think it started to sink in that I was M O M. I was Mom because I nurse her. Because I carried her in my belly for 9 months to the day, because I bonded with her quickly. I had very little patience in settling her if it was the middle of the night, or if I was stressed out, which made me wonder ‘Am I worthy of being a Mom if I can’t deal with my own child?’ I didn’t feel worthy a lot of times when I couldn’t help her or couldn’t figure out what was going on. When she started talking, I don’t think it still settled in because I still didn’t know who I was at the core. I knew that I was Leila’s mom, and that I went to school for my degree, that I worked for X company.

At the end of the day, I didn’t know who Amy WAS.

I didn’t know anything about her. I didn’t know what she liked to read, what her passions were, what she didn’t like, people she called her friends and why, or even why Leila liked her so much.

 

Fast forward to when Leila was 2 ½, I made the decision that we were moving half way across the country to take a job because I was bored and desired change. I thought that Arizona was the key to all of my questions. When we arrived, it was only the two of us and plenty of time for me to discover who I was. Leila was pretty self-sufficient, and I felt like I had a new outlook on life. I started discovering things I was good doing. Things I didn’t like to do, and really enjoyed getting to know who Leila was becoming.

 

I learned to be ok with myself and that I didn’t need someone else there to make me happy. I grew to be happy with my thoughts and what my mind was saying. And I finally knew who Amy was at the core. I then realized that I am worthy of that three-letter word… M O M.

 

I finally believed with all of my heart and mind that I was a good Mom.

And I finally believed that I was capable of being a Mom. I finally realized that Leila came into my life when she did because I really needed her and not that she needed me. I needed her to show me I am capable, I am responsible, I am patient, I am worthy, I am/was ready, and I am deserving. It may have taken 2 ½ to 3 years for me to realize, and I may have missed out on some early memories with Leila because that depression came in, but I am forever grateful to have taken the time to learn.

Now, I get to teach Leila and sister, Finlee, who’s now 2 ½ all about discovering themselves. I get to empower them on their journey through life and someday, hopefully very far away, that they are fully deserving, capable, and worthy of that 3 letter word…. M O M.

 

I am MOM.

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