reflections on becoming a first-time mom during the pandemic

BY CELESTE

One of my best friends recently sent me this article entitled The Strange and Lonely Transformation of First-time Mothers in the Pandemic by Caitlin Gibson. It struck a chord with me and gave me a wonderful jumping off point to start thinking about how to process my own transformation. The majority of my pregnancy and all of my experience of motherhood has taken place during the pandemic. A important survival tactic for me has been to practice gratitude, gratitude for my health and the health of my child, gratitude for the ability to slow down and be more physically present (and most likely mentally) than I otherwise may have been during the first year of my sons life, gratitude for the ability to get pregnant at all. And while gratitude is important, it feels like it’s time to start processing some of the other emotional layers that have accompanied this transition. So let’s try.

I feel different. Not different than myself, the opposite actually. I feel more myself than I have in a long time. I trust myself. I feel sturdy. I’m not afraid to get knocked down a little because I feel confident in my ability to find my footing again. I feel resilient and competent. I’m also kinder to myself than I’ve been in years, maybe ever. I’m exhausted. I’m present. I’m growing. And let’s just throw in exhausted again for good measure. 

I’m also sad. I’m very sad. There are the big moments that were missed, my mom not being able to hold my hand during labor or my mother-in-law not feeling my baby bump. And there are the small moments, the ones that are so small that in any other context they would have gone unnoticed. The small smiles, the knowing looks, the helping hand at just the right moment. The day to day experience of your loved ones helping you cross the bridge from pre to postpartum. 

A couple passages from the article have really stuck with me: 

“Think of how a mother holds a baby and not only gives the baby functional support — of course a baby needs to be fed and cleaned — but a baby also needs to be gazed at, mirrored, told, ‘Oh my, look at what you just did, that’s amazing!’ or ‘I see you’re struggling here, let me help you until you can do it on your own,’ ” Athan says. “That same parallel process is necessary for the mother, too. Who is holding the mother?”

And this is the last bit of the article: 

One evening in early May, Cosmas’s best friend — who had spent over a year checking in from a distance, running errands and dropping off groceries — stepped inside Cosmas’s house for the first time since Johnny’s birth. She took off her face mask and knelt down beside the 11-month-old boy, reaching out to touch him gently. She followed along as Cosmas got Johnny ready for bed, the only person other than Cosmas’s husband and parents to see the first-time mom move through the nightly routine, polished by months of practice: Cosmas changed Johnny’s diaper, gave him a bottle, read him a story. Her friend said, “Wow, you’re so good at this,” and Cosmas finally believed it was true.

I’m in the very early phase of processing but as I turn it over in my mind here are a couple thoughts. It is important to take time to mourn what was missed. I’m deeply proud of myself for what I have done. And the chance to finally have my loved ones physically bear witness to this transformation feels profound. 

For more thoughts on this article and reflections about becoming a mom during the pandemic, check out this episode of the podcast with Amy Click.