Recently I've been thinking a lot about the intersection of motherhood and making.
The reasons for this are probably obvious*, but they bear repeating. I am, in fact, pregnant. I am more than five months into a nine month journey to meet my child. My child is on a journey of making, growing fingers, facial features, and little toes that are currently tap dancing against my left kidney. It's a journey full of love and a journey fraught with worry, which is why I have been so hesitant to talk about it. Because this is not the journey of just the making of my child, this is also the journey of my making as a mother.
I'm already feeling an early version of mommy guilt. The kind that comes when you think you haven't done everything you "need" to. There's a whole list of things I'm not doing correctly. Instead of attending a prenatal yoga class followed by a stop with other mommies at a trendy organic restaurant I come home from a long day and do a ten minute yoga video while cooking a frozen pizza. And then I eat the whole pizza.
Rather than meticulously document every change from weight to mood to size of my growing belly I've been studiously avoiding anything that could track how fat I'm becoming. I've taken a grand total of one bump picture in my 22 weeks of pregnancy. It was a long hard battle with the camera and my own discomfort. I don't know if I'll ever do it again.
A year ago I was desperate to be where I am now. I know there are so many of us out there who struggled and failed when it seemed pregnancy came so easy for those around us. I know the hurt that comes when someone says "Everyone is pregnant," because it implies that you are defective, that you are not worthy of this journey. And that is why I finally decided this is worth discussing. Because we are worthy. And no one is.
There will be no cute touching nursery photo shoots or gorgeously framed birth photography, because that is not the kind of mother I am being made into. I am the kind of mother who refers to their child as an alien life form invading my body and nicknamed them after one of the worst Buffy episodes of all time. I watch bad tv and eat ice cream instead of going on long scenic walks. I sleep on my stomach and one of the last baby books I attempted to read was thrown in the back seat before we even got home from the book store. I am not going to be a mommy blog kind of mom, but that's ok. That doesn't make me any less of a mother (or a blogger for that matter). My life experiences are making me into the best possible mother I can be, even if it means I can't do all those things I "should" do.
So expect a little more pregnancy talk around here. It is a major part of my life at the moment and creeps in to most parts of my everyday life. And if you are someone who is not interested in following me on this journey of making for whatever reason, know that I understand. I hope you will still check in from time to time. For everyone else, there's more to come. After all, making a mother is a long-term project.
*Inspiration for this post came from A Playful Day's Maker's Year project. If you have any interest in making of any kind do yourself a favor and check it out.