When a baby is born, a mother is too.
Today is Rare Disease Day
I’m often surprised at my social media feed on February 28. People I didn’t realize had been affected by a rare disease share their story, or the story of a loved one. Perhaps the purpose is to be seen, to have the struggle witnessed, to bring light to something not often discussed. Perhaps it is to raise awareness and financial support for research. Whatever the reason, some people find some sort of meaning, solace, or purpose in sharing a story that is not understood by many. I’m one of those people.
Standing In Front of Closed Doors
When I was pregnant, I’d often fall into a pool of anxiety, thinking about how life would change when we had our baby. This felt confusing; we had spent years and thousands of dollars on fertility treatments, so the fact that anxiety was the chief emotion was hard to understand. Yet I was riddled with insecurity. Every night, I’d think about how the only thing that would wake me up between then and dawn was my own bladder, but in a few short weeks my sleep would be subject to the whims of an eight-pound supervisor. I constantly second-guessed my own abilities and wondered if I’d ever be able to truly handle the demands of parenting. It sounds dramatic now as I type it. But the fears were big. It felt like a challenge that I desperately wanted but also felt desperately unprepared for. Parenthood was barreling in my direction, and it had the potential to completely overwhelm me.
Surprised By My Own Capacity
While I wasn’t prepared for the challenges I’d experience in early motherhood, I also wasn’t prepared for how much I would grow. I wasn’t prepared for the extent to which my own capacity would increase. I wasn’t prepared for how my own selfishness would shrink or what I’d be capable of enduring; that I could be submerged in the depths of personal hell and yet still extend myself to care for another human being. I wasn’t prepared for the deep strength I’d find in the darkest spaces. I learned I can survive more than I think I can. I learned I’m loved and supported more than I previously understood. I learned there are more resources available to me than I realized, even if I don’t always notice or see them.