Moderate Momma: feelings

Monday, March 14, 2016

#MotherhoodMonday - Motherhood Motivations

Motherhood and Motivation...those two words haven't always clicked for me. Growing up I was always motivated to do well in school because I loved the positive feedback I would receive. A big fat gold star on my report, a "Book-It" button full of stickers so I could go eat at Pizza Hut, a certificate at the end of the school year for citizenship, and that National Honor Society collar at graduation. As I finished college and entered the work force I was motivated to do good work for the "attagirl"s and end of the year bonuses. I flourish under positive feedback and appreciation, and am motivated to exceed expectations because I definitely do not want to be on the receiving end of a bad performance review.

And then there was motherhood...

I don't know if y'all know this, but newborns don't rain down praise when you soothe them and cure their diaper rash with coconut oil. Toddlers don't high five you when you sneak organic veggies into their diet and manage to teach them their colors in a fun and playful manner. There is no performance review. There is no bonus structure. There is no climbing the ladder, and guess what, there is no absolute right way to do your job. (I shudder)

For a while this frustrated me and scared me. How will I know I am measuring up? What if I fail?! The short answer is, I have no effing clue. Motherhood is the single most amazing and terrifying role to embark upon and carries an incredible responsibility. You mean, I'm charged with shaping the heart and mind of this tiny malleable human? I'm the one who needs to model empathy, patience, and goodwill towards others?

So I had a paradigm shift. I began to see the small, day-to-day rewards of motherhood and let those motivate me through sleepless nights and long weary days. I became motivated by:

Gummy grins (even if they were only because of passing gas)
Contented sighs
A heavy tired toddler in my arms
Messy hands that have been exploring the world
The first words strung together (Mama, I HUN-GEE! - aka hungry)
Belly laughs when I make silly faces

These are the gold stars of early motherhood. Recently I've been looking to the future, something I rarely did before becoming a mother. My long-term motivations are raising a brave, confident child who respects others (even if they have different opinions), has empathy for the feelings of those around him, and loves with abandon. It's a tall order, and I hope I'm up to the task. Someone just tell me that I can get a ribbon or gold star when he's a successful, self-sufficient adult, okay?

On a lighter note, here's a list of some of my other Motherhood Motivations:

Nothing motivates me to work like looking at the clock and realizing I have 30 minutes before Mother's Day Out pick-up.
Nothing motivates me to move like some French Roast first thing in the morning.
Nothing motivates me to exercise (y'all, never in my life have I ever wanted to exercise) like the thought of 30 minutes to watch Netflix on the treadmill while my son plays in the gym childcare. Also, I'm motivated to still be moving and shaking by the time he graduates college .(I'll be 56!)
Nothing motivates me to get through the bedtime routine like knowing my comfy chair, sweats, Hulu, and contraband cookies are waiting for me.

So mommas, tell me, what motivates you?

Don't forget to visit all the other remarkable mommas participating in this week's topic:

Lisa W. http://www.themotherblog.com
Alexis http://www.mrsmombie.com/
Farrah http://www.newandnaturalmom.com/
Tiffany http://www.stellarmama.com/
Natasha http://www.natashabyrd.com/blog
Heather http://www.frugalsouthernliving.com/
Katie http://www.alwayskatie.com

Monday, February 1, 2016

#Motherhood Monday - Motherhood Miracles

Looking back on motherhood thus far, I can recall plenty of times where I said, "It will be a miracle if..."

"It will be a miracle if he ever sleeps": Thankfully he now sleeps through the night, even if that "night" ends at 5:30 am.
"It will be a miracle if I can get him to sleep without rocking or wearing him": He now nestles down in his big boy bed and falls asleep on his own!
"It will be a miracle if I ever get my bed back": At 20 months, he transitioned smoothly into a twin bed in his own room!
"It will be a miracle if he ever gives up the bottle": We've now been bottle free for 3 months!

In the midst of the day to day grind of motherhood (wake, coffee, adult, repeat) these milestones can feel so far, so insurmountable that they seem almost miraculous when they happen. But what I really want to talk about today is the miracle of becoming a mother.

I find conception to be pretty damn miraculous.

Did you know that even in your twenties you only have a 20% chance of conceiving each month? If you have healthy eggs, regular ovulation, a partner with good swimmers, a clear path in your fallopian tubes, and you happen to get busy at the precise time of the month that all these align, you still only have a 20% chance of getting pregnant that month. By the time you are 30, that drops to 15% and to 10% at 35. So, to my ladies who got pregnant their first time out of the gate after a few glasses of wine, YOU have a miracle on your hands.

For me, pregnancy did not come quite so easy. My eggs were the culprit. At 29 years old I was diagnosed with severely diminished ovarian reserve (DOR) basically this meant that at not even 30 years old, I had the eggs (quantity and quality) of a woman in her mid-forties. For the next 7 years we tried a variety of treatments before hauling out the big guns and undergoing Donor Egg IVF. When I say that my son is our miracle baby, I truly mean it. It was a miracle that my faith, marriage, and bank account could withstand infertility (it's a beast. This pic is just the meds I took in preparation for IVF. It does not include the 12 weeks of progesterone shots I took once I was pregnant).

It was a miracle that we found a donor who although we never met, gave us such a remarkable gift. It was a miracle that this teeny, tiny embryo decided to implant in my womb.

It was a miracle that he stayed safe and cozy for 41 weeks. And boy was it ever a miracle when he finally found his way into my arms.

Now my miracle is almost TWO and is delighting (and challenging) us daily. It's a miracle I don't smother him in kisses. I mean, get a load of this cuteness!