Who am I?

In my developmental course for graduate students, I often talk about the identity change that happens to a parent when they have their first child. Based on the research, for the best identity evolution, the parent must incorporate who they were -- with who they now are as a parent. Over-identifying as a parent is bad for the parent, and under-identifying as a parent is bad for the child. So, the goal is to find who you are as an individual and a parent and balance them together.

When I taught this in class, it was totally convincing -- and based on research. Now, I say --hahahahahahahahaha. I'm not entirely sure when I'm supposed to express who I am as an individual. Perhaps in those 30 seconds each day between feedings and diaper changes. I barely have time to shower and go to the bathroom, much less consider an existential identity evolution. Even as I am typing this, Mike is 3 feet from me jiggling the baby to sleep while I pump breast milk. I can type as this tortuous machine violates my personal space, but not get in touch with who I was a person pre-baby. 

I did consider the change recently, however, as I attended my friend Valerie's baby shower. A little over two years ago, my best friend Jess and I went to our friend Alina's baby shower; she was the first of us to have a baby. Jess and I walked into Babies'R'Us begrudgingly and looked around. We sort of shrugged at each other as we saw bottles, diapers and various accoutrement that we had no idea its purpose. We bought a totally impractical outfit for her baby girl, then begged the registry woman to pick out $75 of baby crap, since we had no idea what we were doing. We only had one rule - no diaper stuff; nothing like considering poop with your present. Flash forward two years. Jess and I are in Babies (we are on a first name basis now) for our friend Valerie's baby shower. Not only do we know what everything is, we know exactly where it is located, since this store is now like our second home. As we perused the registry, we considered what we would each get. As I squinted at the list through my sleep-deprived via newborn eyelids and Jess read through her toddler-exhausted ones, we nodded, then ran to the bottle section of the store, followed by the diaper section of the store. Gifts that keep on giving: diaper pail, diapers, wipes, butt paste, bottles, bottle rack, bibs and pacifiers. Oh how, our lives have changed. We used to want something cute and fashionable - something that said, "Misty and Jess bought this for you..." Now, we bought something that we used and appreciated post-baby - poop and food accessories. 

So, let me consider this now: who am I? Pre-baby, I was a shaman, a teacher, a friend, a wife, a mother of furries. I was funny, loved playing the piano, playing computer games, watching good television and going to see the latest movie. I loved fashion, shoes, makeup. I loved reading trashy vampire romance novels and the latest peer-reviewed journal articles. I practiced meditation and yoga. My identity was secure and stable for several years. I feel as though I am still these things, but there has been no time for these activities with taking care of a high-maintenance newborn. I am now a breast-pumping, newborn jiggling, diaper-wielding, bottle-preparing MOM. If I'm not doing any of those things, I'm sleeping, eating or bathing myself. I'm fairly confident that this will get better and I will be able to express my pre-baby parts of my personality, but right now, it's all about being a mom.

And, ironically, I wouldn't change a thing. Who knew I could be so competent at holding a baby while doing three other things. I'm an expert burper and baby-bather. One of my favorite moments in the day is when I take a bath with Wilson and hold him and sing to him as he smiles. Or when he falls asleep on my chest and we take a brief nap together in the late morning. I love when he rubs my arm and grabs my shirt as he drinks his bottle. I love watching his smiles as we play peek-a-boo when I slip his onesie over his head and how his legs and arms go wild when I am changing his diaper. I think he's hilarious when he makes funny faces at me or does silly things - like turning his head side to side repeatedly in what can only be described as a Stevie-Wonder head dance. I'm totally in love with this little man and don't care that who I was before has been put on hold for now.

However, I am apparently still funny to Wilson who laughed hysterically today when I rubbed lotion on him while saying in my creepiest Silence-of-the-lambs voice "it puts the lotion on the baby or else it gets the hose again..."Ah well, enough existential pondering: off to prepare another bottle...