Since becoming a stay at home mother, even before the birth of BabyBoy, I began feeling a little…lost. I was confident in my role as Mommy. And that’s about it. I felt like “Merry” was vanishing, and completely eclipsed by “Mommy”. Everything I thought I knew about myself faded and began to become tied to my role of mother, and the individual person I was began to dissipate.
It’s gotten worse since BabyBoy’s arrival. Between the three kids, and all my lovely SAHM duties, I don’t have time for Mr. Wench save for the conversation we always have for a few minutes when he gets home from work. And in his normal pursuit of his hobbies and leisure time, well, I feel that he doesn’t really have time for me either. When I’m available to hang out and chat, he’s busy. When he’s not doing anything, I’m either mothering or sleeping.
I know who I am, don’t get me wrong. I’m just going through a post-partum identity crisis, and just like it did before, it will pass. I hope.
I am sorry this entry doesn’t have my usual upbeat tone, but last night and today have been rough. BabyBoy, who has a raging case of thrush, woke up around 11pm and did not go to sleep until 5:30am. At all. I took him for a car ride, which knocked him out, but he woke up as soon as we walked back in the house. I haven’t slept since I woke up yesterday at 7am, save for the little bit I got when I fell asleep this morning around 5:45am…I was woken up by a text from Mr. Wench asking if I was awake…at which point I glanced at the clock and nearly had a heart attack…it was nearly 8am. SchoolGirl ended up being late for school and we barely made it to BabyBoy’s doctor appointment at 10am. Now it’s 1:15 and I should be getting the brisket in the oven for dinner, but I do not feel like it (don’t worry, I will get it in though).
I thought as time would go on it would get easier…but every morning I am more sluggish, tired, and irate than the morning before. And Mr. Wench bears the brunt of my sleep-deprivation induced wrath, poor guy. I cry because I don’t feel like Merry Wench anymore. I feel like Merry has died and I have simply become “Mommy”. All my friends work, and the ones who don’t live far enough away that the visits are few and far between. I look forward to going to the store, because it’s the one time I am by myself, and my thoughts aren’t drowned out by the voices of children and cries of babies. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking, suck it up, you shouldn’t have had kids if you weren’t prepared for this. Well, you can shut your piehole. I love my kids and wouldn’t trade them for anything. I’m not Supermom. I am human, and I crave the company of my peers like anyone else does. Some women (I’m looking at you, Michelle Duggar…) can stay in that Mommy mode and not feel like they’re missing something. I’m not one of those women. I have been a mother for 7 years, and I have been Merry for 28 years. When one aspect eclipses and drowns out the other, this makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel off-kilter. I need to find balance between the two, I need to learn how to be both Merry and Mommy. I know it takes time.
But until then, I am not ashamed of the fact that I struggle to find that fine line and tend to both my emotional needs and juggle my role as mother to three of the four loves of my life.