Lovely Mess

The days have flown like clouds, 

all helter skelter and beyond my reach.

How else would these seven weeks 

have passed so quickly?

This felt like yesterday:

About four days before delivery day.

In the car and on the way to the hospital!

And then, 

he was here.

Just like that.

Birth days are fleeting.
Brief and radiant eyelets in time.

They are my most favorite days.

It's a beautiful trauma, 

fighting to bring your child into the world.

Exciting, scary, gory, ruthless, brilliant.

You, the mother: 

the conduit for a new, little being  

constructed of matter and magic.
A harrowing passage.

Birth days are truly powerful. 

You meet this fresh, little person,

the one you knit together.

And right then and there,
your family begins anew.

It's epic, this change.

It's also hard.

Honestly, it's really hard.

If you have other kids, 

they feel pushed aside.
Tantrums and general mayhem ensue.

Your partner might feel the same.
Not so much with the tantrums,
but you can sense their expectation
that normalcy should soon return.

Fact: in the beginning,
there's no such thing as normal.

Venturing out is no small feat,
even without your baby.
Nor is it as cathartic as hoped.

Thanks to leaking mammary glands
and the irritatingly deep-seated desire
to hurry home, personal time
is on hiatus.

And sleep.
You know that glorious thing
where you rest your aching body
for a period of time?
Yeah, forget about that.

And chores.
Seriously, who has time
for laundry and vacuuming
when there's a tiny human
attached to your chest?

As the newly anointed mother 

{whether for the first or fourth time},

you are worn thin.

Your days are foggy.

Your breasts hurt.
Your temper is short.

You cry easily.

You're still wearing maternity clothes.

And everything is spattered
in breast milk, urp and/or poop.
Everything.

But all that aside, 

the relief is palpable.

Your baby has found you.
You have found one another.

And he's just as he should be.
Thank God. 

All the aforementioned craziness
- this new and unhinged life of yours...
it's all part of the 

lovely mess.

There is no dry-run.
This. Is. It.

Days such as these are numbered,
the truly golden ones.
You are experiencing
some of the finest.

So let go of the ridiculous notion that
having a baby and being a mother
is orderly or perfect.

Notions drag you down.

It's something I'm working on,
shedding my notions.

If I could live within these days forever,
with all their hectic imperfections,
I surely would.

Because I've birthed my baby,
and he's heavenly.
Chubby and squirmy and soft.

 All that matters is him and this tribe of mine.

Welcome earthside, love. 

We'll show you around.