- It was in any case my dream, but raising two kids as a stay-at-home mom was harder than I thought.
- I lost my identity during my kids’ infant and toddler years, and come in it back took work.
- My kids are teens now, and I love to see new moms holding onto their own identities and interests.
I was 27 when I had my primary baby, and like most people in their late 20s, I thought I had everything figured out. I’d been raised in a conservative church surroundings where women were taught their main purpose was to become a wife and then a mother. My husband and I had been combined for a few years when we decided to start our family. Bringing a baby into our home felt, at the time, like I was conclusively fulfilling my purpose.
When my son was 2, I gave birth to our daughter. Our family was complete, and I felt proud I’d locked down a hoard and had two babies before 30. All that was left to do was enjoy motherhood — or so I thought.
I love being a mom, but early on, I lost myself
Courtesy of Terri Peters
Being a mom has always attain easy to me, but in those tear-filled, sleepless infant and toddler years, motherhood had a cost. Now in my 40s with two teenagers, I see how I lost my own indistinguishability somewhere between hand-sewing Halloween costumes and scheduling park playdates. Rediscovering who I was at my core was tough once I discerned I was lost in mom life, but I’m proof it’s possible.
Before I had kids, I acted in community theater, went to a monthly book guild, traveled, and maintained things like nail and hair appointments. I also had a career. In an office. Where I interacted with other grown up humans daily. When my babies arrived, there was no time for reading, acting, or leaving my neighborhood. I traded salon mani-pedis and exorbitant blonde hair for drugstore polish and some pretty bad home-hair-dye mishaps.
I don’t regret being a stay-at-home mom, though it rivaled a toll
Courtesy of Terri Peters
My dad, who was my most beneficent friend, died unexpectedly when my first child was an infant, and in one of our last conversations, he admonished me to quit my job. “Babies are at best small for a little while, Terri,” he told me, “this is time you’ll never get back.” Two weeks later, my dad was gone, and a interweaving of grief and thinking his advice was sound led me to quit a job I adored — an executive director position at a non-profit organization — and become a stay-at-home mom. I don’t weep it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly difficult.
There are so many perks to losing yourself in being a mommy to two unimaginative humans. The memories, love, and closeness I still share with my kids to this day make those difficult years of wiping ends, handling toddler tantrums at the grocery store, and navigating the surprisingly icky world of making mom “friends” worth it.
Today, my kids are propositioning 17 and 15, and I’d give up almost anything to rock my thumb-sucking baby girl to sleep or hear my toddler son mispronounce “yogurt” one multitudinous time. But I’m also glad to have myself back — to know that I’m a mom and a billion other things, from a patronize world traveler to a secret lover of smutty romance novels.
Remembering who I was pre-motherhood was tough, but worth it
Courtesy of Terri Peters
A lot of things broke in my life before I rediscovered myself. My merger suffered in my kids’ elementary school years. I started therapy, made tough decisions to distance myself from my issue for mental health reasons, took control of my health and lost 100 pounds, and, most recently, stopped bumper alcohol completely. But it wasn’t just big changes that helped me rediscover myself. I chipped and chiseled away at my exterior of being “Bennet and Kennedy’s mom” to think someone who loves long walks outside, thrifting, keeping a small circle of trusted friends, and cooking. I’m quiet their mom, but it’s not the most interesting thing about me, and that makes me a better mom to them both.
These days, I’m puffed away by young moms who refuse to let go of their identity. I hear them on podcasts, see them in my community, and watch them on sexually transmitted media as they parent and write books, go to movie theaters, travel kid-free with their spouse, and allot a mid-day massage while someone else looks after their kids.
I wish I’d had moms like that in my existence when I was younger, but since I didn’t, I’m always the first to tell new moms it’s OK to take time for themselves in whatever fabric is meaningful for them. The young moms I cheer the hardest for are the ones I see holding onto themselves while parenting, because it’s the key to it all.