By: Jowita Bydlowska
The first year is the hardest. I met with a new mom friend today and she turned to me and said, “If I had any idea… I would’ve been there, every day.” But the thing is, she wouldn’t and neither would I be there for any new mom except for maybe my sister in the future. This friend, who’s seriously sleep-deprived, has two grannys who come by to take over most of the evenings. She just sleeps then. She’s one of the few people whom I’ve never seen angry, never heard saying anything that indicated she’s ever been angry and I’ve known her for a few years including the time where we both worked at a place that would make Mother Theresa loose her cool. So it was strange to hear her joke about how crazy motherhood was and how there’s no way she’s going to have another kid, and that she’s starting to be “short” with her partner. She looks at his sleeping face in the middle of the night while bouncing the baby and she just wants to… she never finished because I interrupted her and finished for her. I wanted to. Many, many times.
Now, I have very little patience naturally and have spent a year being angry at my partner – at least that’s what he says and he’s probably right even though I wasn’t really angry at him. I was angry at the situation (and no, I do not not like being a mom – I just don’t like being “just” a mom).