All of the cliches about motherhood are true

3 years of Everett

If this email were set to a soundtrack, this would be the opening number.

Everett turns three today. I hardly remember life before him and yet it all goes by so fast. Where is my baby? And who is the magical human who greets me each day with wide eyes, a smile, and all of the love his little body can hold? 

All of the cliches about motherhood are true. 

Maybe that’s my #1 lesson in the last three years. Every cliche is true. And every time you find yourself thinking “That won’t happen to me” in response to an anecdote or advice from a mom, remind yourself you have no idea WTF you’re doing and they aren’t lying to you. They are the only ones looking out for you.

That was my experience at least. 

In a minute I’m going to share with you 9 additional things motherhood has taught me, but before we get to that, I want to talk about something else real quick.

Me.

YES, it’s Everett’s birthday, which is all about Everett. I get it! I want to celebrate the living daylights out of the munchie munch. I’m so happy he’s here, we made it three years, and I get to be his mom with a front row seat to witness his expansion.

AND it is also the three year anniversary of my birth trauma. Of the event that changed so much more than my butthole, it changed the course of my entire life…

I know it sounds dramatic (you can take the girl out of the theatre…) and it’s 100% true. 

Something I still can’t figure out is what changed because of my birth and what changed because of Covid. I don’t think I’ll ever know because the two are wholly interwoven and like…felted together. Does that analogy work? I’ve never worked with felt. Let me know in the comments. 

I’m not going to go into all of the ways things changed because that is all available in the entire catalog of content I’ve created since his birth which you can find here, here, and here. I’m thinking about all of those pieces today for sure, but this year I’m thinking more about today.

This is the first year Everett’s birthday isn’t a living nightmare for me. 

His zero birthday was a stop motion movie of disbelief that he was finally here, my losing consciousness on and off, vomiting on myself, shitting the bed repeatedly, blood loss, stitches, pain, and who knows what else because I don’t remember a lot. I kept passing out…

His first birthday was a day of realizing we’d made it a whole year, still farting involuntarily when I moved suddenly, celebrating with family (outside of course), still panicking about being outside with people, fear we would get sick, flashbacks to my birth, and dissociating in order to protect myself from the ptsd triggers. All witnessed through watery eyes as my son delighted in being surrounded by the people who love him the most in this world. AND being terrified they were near him.

His second birthday was maybe the hardest one for me, besides zero of course. I’d always said that I wanted to try for another baby around Everett’s second birthday. I am...not as young as I look, and I wanted my kids to be close in age. And as we celebrated Everett’s birthday I knew I wasn’t ready yet. 

Yes, I’d healed physically. Yes I had control over my farts. Yes I was doing handstands and splits again. Yes, thinking about having another baby sent into a panic of fear and ptsd flashbacks. The nightmares from my birth had dissipated, but I wasn’t ready yet. 

I didn’t anticipate how scared I would be to be pregnant again. I loved being pregnant with Everett (Jeremy remembers this differently) and I didn’t want my second baby to be conceived or carried in fear. I didn’t anticipate ever questioning if I would have a second baby. And I never thought that question would be because I’d had a first baby. 

We invited immediate family only to celebrate Evertt’s second birthday at the playground. It was outside, his friends could pop through, we’d have bagels and coffee, easy peasy. I thought this would be supportive to my emotional state. 

YES I was there to celebrate my sweet, angel, delicious baby who is made of pure magic. AND his birthday is a heavy day for me. It is the anniversary of the day my body and self were torn in two.

The sun did not come out on October 11, 2021 and it rained all day. I was still too nervous about covid and too emotionally fragile to do anything indoors with our family so we all stood in the rain at the park. Everett had a blast, enjoyed his rainbow bagel, and still loves the toys he got from his grandparents. 

I was entirely too aware of the fact that no one asked how I was. The trauma that was anchoring me in my nightmares and flashbacks was somehow invisible to everyone around me. That night I cried to Jeremy that I would never be able to fully celebrate our incredible kid. I was scared that the trauma would never let me go. 

This year finally feels different. It is still a heavy day for me, but less heavy. The grip of my ptsd is looser. There is more room to celebrate and be happy. If my grief used to be a giant duffle bag, it’s now a very reasonable carry-on suitcase. With four wheels making it much easier to maneuver through the world. 

This year feels exciting. It feels like  elements of life and me are returning to “normal.” I took joy in getting lots of rainbow colored things for the party because Everett loves rainbows. This fact makes me VERY happy as anyone who has ever seen my childhood bedroom understands. 

It feels good to feel good and it took me three years to get here. I say that for you and for myself because despite what people may say, the postpartum recovery extends far beyond the 6-week appointment. 

So now it’s time to share those 9 other things I’ve learned in motherhood. There are more things for sure, but when I thought about a list of the things I’ve learned these poured out of me and onto the page so I guess you could say they're my biggest lessons. 

9 more things I’ve learned since becoming a mom…

1. Floor food is a food group

2. Pee poop is different from a carrot poop

3. That magic is real and it’s what Everett is made of

4. How to stand in my power in a way that it isn’t threatened and doesn’t threaten someone else’s

5. Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should

6. There is no ONE right way, there’s only MY right way

7. Giving Everett the space to unfold into himself is more beautiful than directing who he becomes

8. Teamwork makes the dream work

9. Safety first – physically and emotionally of course ;)

One last thought on this auspicious day. And maybe this is cheesy and maybe it’s because I am a mom and feel super sentimental on the anniversary of my son’s birth, but I have to mention my incredible partner, coparent, husband, and cheerleader. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about how different my life could have been. That if I hadn’t stood up for myself, left my ex husband, and demanded more for myself I would not be here. And I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. 

What I’m about to write is the most cliched of anything else in this post, but it’s true…

Jeremy reads this so I’m writing this next part directly to him.  

I thought I loved you the most on the day we got married, I was wrong. My love for and with you grows every single day and I still can’t believe I get to be married to someone I never knew I could dream of. None of this would be possible without you in more ways than biology. 

Thank you Jeremy for making all of these dreams possible, for holding me up when I’m about to fall, and for giving me the honor or holding you up too. 

How did we get so lucky?

Xo, Alissa