I Wasn’t Prepared for How My Baby Would Truly Change Me

I’m 32 years old and probably the very last of all my friends and close acquaintances to have a child. Everyone told me how much having a baby would change me. They warned me that I would simply never be the same. I would politely nod and smile, and then pompously say to myself, “Not me, sister! I know who I am!” But I just wasn’t prepared for what was to come.

Now, mind you, I have nieces and nephews that I am absolutely obsessed with; and there are a handful of friends’ kids that I truly adore and love like they were indeed my own family. I was totally that girl who bragged about these peripheral children in my life to anyone who would listen—partly because I really do love these little ones, but partly because I just wanted to be part of the conversation when it inevitably turned to everyone’s kids. But nevertheless, I had some inkling at how my perspective and maybe even my focus might change with the introduction of a baby. But I just wasn’t prepared for what was to come.

At my baby shower, my mother wrote me this amazing letter about how my older brother and I beautifully altered her life and how she was so excited for me to get to experience the same thing. Blame it on the hormones, but it brought tears to my eyes. However, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what this big transformation was supposed to be all about. I just wasn’t prepared for what was to come.

When I gave birth to my son this past October, I could never have imagined for how all 7 pounds and 8 ounces of him would profoundly change who I was. How could ten little fingers and ten little toes truly impact the core of my being? How could breastfeeding trials and triumphs, and late nights, and his angelic little giggle, and his soft, sweet little face really morph the tenets on which I had propped my identity after all these years? I. WAS. NOT. prepared for what was to come.

Even as I write these words, I’m still a little shocked at who I have become. My husband says he can really see the change, and that he loves me even more for it. I kiss his cheek for the sweet sentiment. But I still can’t really believe that I, after 32 years of life, have actually become a “Two Tripper” when it comes to bringing my stuff in from the car! I mean, two trips?! Two trips are for the weak! But man, babies apparently require a lot of equipment! And between the diaper bag, the pumping bag, my laptop bag, my coffee, my water, and then having to actually grab my child in the car seat, I have concluded that it just simply cannot be done in one fell swoop! So, alas, this is now my life. I am a Two Tripper. “Hi, Megan! We’re glad you’re here!” *eats my Costco cookie as I silently hang my head in shame*

Gotcha! 😉