My sweet boy slept for 6 1/2 hours last night. I was so awake when he woke up to nurse that I couldn't fall back asleep. My mind could not fall asleep.
It may be no secret that I have not always had the highest self esteem. During pregnancy I dealt with old demons as my weight escalated. Now after pregnancy and after child birth, similar thoughts emerge. They haven't been that bad, that is, not as bad as I had anticipated--I'm being fairly nice to myself and giving myself time. I don't really feel rushed to get rid of these "remaining so or so many pounds." But, in all honesty, I worry about not having enough time to "have my body back." You know, couples usually have another baby. And the cycle continues.
I don't want to make this a discussion about birth control or how ever many babies our particular family may have, but I do want to say that I realized I really want to hold on to this notion of "my body." My 24 or something year old body. My pre-pregnancy body. But I'm really realizing that I am only going to get older. And I give up my selfish desire to retain my youth (often through vain attempts). I will have more kids. And more importantly, I want more kids. But with more kids means, more nursing, more growing bellies, more post partum bellies; a body aging and weathering. It's all kind of frightening. That and becoming more "mom like" (as if that were a bad thing)makes me a little uneasy somehow--maybe my spirited and rebellious past is still desperately trying to hold on as my more conservative present becomes more and more of a reality.
And last night as I lay in bed wide away, pondering these things, thought about this long purple cardigan I got that looks cool but in some way, matronly. But who cares? It's handy, cheap, and completely practical. Now, what's not practical? My old clothes: like, unstructured shirts, dresses (not good for nursing), minis. And how about my old go-to hairstyle? Pig tails. Moms don't wear pig tails!
I'm exaggerating. I will probably wear all these things, but I am sensing a change. So watch out world [or watch out self] I may soon be pulling out some mom jeans and a very conservative cut.
I laugh partially because I'm joking, but mostly because does any of this matter, at all? What is the fear that lurks behind this mysterious "getting older" thing? I don't know but it certainly doesn't fit into any Christian narrative and so.....
5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:5)
The knowledge of God being, in this case, 1. children are wonderful, wonderful, wonderful 2. I am a mother, I've followed the design of things, and it is naturally beautiful 3. We are raising new generations in the name of Christ. That is it. And I am already getting to wear the "scars" of the battles of motherhood. [paraphrasing from a friend:] I would certainly say that they're beautiful on anyone else, now, how about I say the same for myself.