The weight of the world

 In thinking about all the stages of motherhood, I realized that weight is a pervasive theme.

There's the weight of the pressure a woman feels to conceive. If and when a woman decides to try for kids, the efforts to get there can feel like a 50-lb boulder on one's back. There are cycles to track, sticks to pee on, temperatures to chart. When it doesn't happen right away, it can feel hopeless and frustrating. If a pregnancy loss occurs, the sadness is heavy. If, as it was in my case, multiple pregnancy losses occur, the burden of that type of grief is massive to carry. And while others may offer support, a woman carries those losses mostly on her own.

When a woman finally becomes pregnant, there's the physical weight she gains, both her own and that of the life she is growing inside. Some women gain a lot of weight while pregnant, and some gain only a little. Unless you're one of those anomalies that doesn't know she's pregnant, you will have to learn how to adjust to a different weight and size throughout the pregnancy. Clothing sizes change, maybe even your shoe size changes. I didn't gain a ton of weight in my pregnancies; particularly with my second kid, since I stayed pretty active chasing around a toddler during that pregnancy. However, by the end of each pregnancy, I was so big and awkward that it was super uncomfortable to even roll over in bed. You would think a rotund, fully pregnant woman would have no trouble rolling here and there, but it felt like running a fucking marathon just to do this. 

As for the fetus, they come in all shapes and sizes. Some babies are a robust 10lbs when they finally hatch, and some are smaller. Some precious littles are born early and have to finish gaining their weight on the outside. I was pretty lucky, I think, in that my babies were 6 pounders, almost 7, and that was perfect for my 4' 11" frame. My first kid lost a bit of weight after he was born; more so than what is considered standard. I had to supplement his breast feedings with formula bottles so he could pack on the weight he had lost. We had to take him to the doctor quite a few times after he was born to check his weight and ensure he was gaining. And he did, like a champ. My daughter was a great eater from the start and never had any problems with gaining and keeping weight on.

After mom gives birth, there is always the specter of losing the baby weight looming in the background. For many moms, it's not necessarily a high priority, though it's a unique journey for everyone. For me, with my first, losing the weight wasn't difficult because I was breastfeeding, and it seemed to just fall off as my body worked double time to keep alive myself and this baby who had just gotten the boot from my uterus. However, after stopping breastfeeding, my weight seemed to skyrocket. (I mean, it didn't really but I was no longer dropping the baby weight with the ease I was while I was lactating.) I'm also an older mom and had my babies in my late 30s, so obviously my metabolism, though never a champion to begin with, was even slower than if I were ten years younger. After my second kid, I made exercising more of a priority, not only to lose baby weight that was stubbornly sticking around, but because it's tough keeping up with two young kids and even tougher when you're out of shape and your sciatica kicks in. Working out was a welcome escape for me after my second kid. It helps me feel more like my old self, gives me some much needed energy and strength and it is something positive and beneficial that I can do for myself when so much of my day centers around others' needs.

I typically rock (or walk, rather, as she gets older and bigger) my daughter to sleep for her naps and at night. When she's in my arms and her head is perched on my shoulder, I can always tell when she's finally fallen asleep because the weight of her gradually feels heavier in my arms. Not to mention the drool will flow freely at this point, and sometimes her paci will drop out of her mouth. But it's that still, vulnerable weight of my babies in my arms that is one of the most profound feelings I've felt as a mom. There's something about that resting weight that really solidifies my motherly instincts and reminds me without fail that my job on this rock is first and foremost to protect and love these babies of mine, no matter how big and how old they get. If there is a perfect moment in my day with regards to my kids, it's when they fall asleep in my arms or curled up next to me, their weight resting on me with the assurance that they are safe and loved. Every parent should be able to know how this feels, and when I think about all the refugees who are seeking that feeling of safety and assurance for their own children, it breaks my heart and reinforces just how lucky I really am.

As my kids get older, they obviously get heavier, which means transitions related to car seats, toys, etc. They also become more and more cumbersome to tote around. When my daughter decides to throw her weight around in protest to me picking her up in order to stop her from doing something, she damn near catapults herself out of my grip now that she's a 20-pounder. My son, still very much a snuggler, is getting more difficult to carry back to bed, with his longer legs, though he's the skinny Minnie of the two kids. Again, this is one of the instances where the working out piece is a crucial part of my routine. 

As my kids move towards things like full-day school and daycare, the weight of how they will fare sits heavy on my mind. I'm an anxious person. I catastrophize and assume the worst. Perhaps I'm projecting my own past experiences; I was always a shy person who didn't have a ton of confidence or self-assurance. When I think about my kids at school or daycare, deep down I know they're doing just fine, but I worry that they are feeling anxious or insecure being around both adults and kids they don't know. It behooves me to remember at these times that everything is a phase.

Being a parent is a huge responsibility, as well as a huge privilege. It's a lot of heavy lifting, both literally and figuratively...so I better get a workout in tomorrow morning before the kids wake up.