I woke up at 5am this morning, very unlike me - an (under normal circumstances) sleep-till-noon-if-you’ll let her kinda gal. But 37 weeks pregnant isn’t exactly normal circumstances. It’s wrestling with a 12 pound belly, that tugs painfully at your hip ligaments shall you try to rotate in any direction. It’s propping yourself up with 75 pillows and trying to figure out how to position all that excess down in a way that not only feels supportive, but is also smooth against your too-tight pajama pants. It’s dragging that belly to the bathroom 12 times with the urge to pee. And for me, this go-around it’s trying to let go of the racing thoughts - on birth, on motherhood, on overwhelm.
Doing this a third time is comforting in a way. Because I’ve become familiar with my own patterns - I know that pregnancy amplifies my feelings in ways that often seep from my body in tears. I know that historically though, postpartum calms me again, and that newborn baby bubbles are where my ultimate happiness lies. I know if I can just hang in for a bit, the hormones calm, the feelings fleet, and I eventually start feeling a normal amount of crazy again.
I’ve been doing this motherhood thing for eight years now, which have passed in both an eternity and a blink. But this pregnancy has really brought up for me what a rollercoaster it’s all been. Ketch came into our lives and rocked our world in ways that first babies do - but a pretty mellow, joyful rock overall. West arrived with COVID, which was terrifying on its own, but also threw in a pretty darn traumatic birth and an extremely traumatic babyhood. Months of being viscerally attached to an infant in pain - knowing something was wrong but not what, and then surgery after surgery and unknown after unknown in a time when the world was also falling apart. Juggling the transition to being a mother of two small babies (which I think on its own is probably a tough enough experience) whilst navigating that all left me weeping under trees in our local park, huddled close to the earth begging the universe for favors. Somehow we survived it though, moved, packed up our entire house and took our two year old and five year old backpacking through Europe for four months - something that was so lifechanging and cool, but was also its fair share of exhausting. While we were over there I developed a few health issues of my own - that at first had me honest to god convinced that maybe I was dying - another really fun period for me let me tell you. Thankfully it turned out to not be the case, but it left me with a huge mistrust of the western medical system and a realization of the amount of health PTSD I had procured when West was sick. We got home, and then began navigating a super intense separation anxiety that Ketch had acquired somewhere along the way - something we’re still navigating, and that has at times been really difficult to figure out, especially when you’re the primary caregiver, who just sometimes needs a break and some space. This all led us to homeschool, a decision I wholeheartedly think is right for Ketch and for our family, but isn’t easy either. We recently found out Ketch has dyslexia, a diagnosis I haven’t even fully shared with him, but that I’m glad we now have because it’s provided so much clarity. I wouldn’t change anything about him for the world, and I know that little by little we’re chipping away at the best way to support his beautifully sensitive, totally brilliant and not-like-everyone-else’s brain but holy good god almighty sometimes it feels like a lot.
Throughout all of this Brad has been building a company. Something that I am so proud of him for, and that he does in a way that leaves me in awe of what he has accomplished. Something that he juggles so well while still somehow managing to show up as an absolutely amazing, present father and husband. But something that has also taken an enormous amount of energy and time and travel - and can often leave us feeling like we’re living on two different planets - planet parenthood and planet HighCamp. And we’re doing this all largely on our own, without family close by- which as more time goes by, makes me more sad.
I could probably use some help, but I’m wildly independent and I don’t like that either. I dont like asking for it. I don’t like people in my space. I don’t like having to block out other peoples judgments and opinions. And lately I have felt really really sensitive to other humans, in a way that has made me want to retreat and be alone.
I share this not to whine or complain - because I know in the grand scheme of things I have it so so so good, and truly there is SO much joy in my life. But because often the parts of ourselves we share are the glimmers and the high points - and I’ve always been drawn to painting the whole picture. Writing is like a therapy for me. And honestly today, when I woke up questioning why I feel so emotionally wrecked at the moment, it reminds me that this journey I’ve been on for quite some time now has been a lot - that motherhood is a lot. And here I am super pregnant with a body that can’t quite keep up with all of the demands that are being asked of it. Buried under piles upon piles of laundry in a house that somehow spits out messes for breakfast, homeschooling two absolutely feral boys, trying to keep up with everything enough and enjoy everything enough because I know it only happens once. I miss my family. I miss my own mom. And sometimes I miss the times before motherhood when life felt so much less complex and was solely about me.
But god, I am also SO SO SO grateful. Because, like I’ve written about so many times in the past - I know the things are the hardest in life - the things that force us to dig deep and lean in to uncomfortability are always the things I want to pursue. I would never choose the path of least resistance if meant missing out on the joy that being a momma has brought me or any part of this life we’ve built. Giving birth and raising babies is truly, I think, the closest we can ever come to real magic in this life. And I get to witness it every damn day. I am fortunate enough to spend a majority of time with the two coolest humans I have ever met. That I made. That are constantly surprising me and leaving me in total awe. That have made me feel love in ways that I cannot even begin to describe.
I am so excited for this next one to make his debut. To experience that moment they place him on my chest - to live in that fleeting instant that feels like its a portal between worlds - to know with your whole soul that you’re as close as you can get to understanding the meaning of life. To take him home and to slowly learn who he is. Thus far, he’s been absolutely wild in utero - causing me sometimes to wince in pain from a kick. And while I’m still a little salty that the universe didn’t think I needed some calm girl energy in my life, I’m so thankful to continue to carry my boy mom title, with all the chaos that brings.
I can’t wait to nestle you close sweet baby. To lay in a puddle of newborn bliss with you. You couldn’t have picked two more amazing older brothers, or a better daddy - and we cannot wait to wecome you into our crazy beautiful life.