I would rather bleed out than sit here and talk about my feelings for 10 minutes.

It’s almost imaginary Oscar time! But since I haven’t blogged in a year, and I had a slightly life-changing event occur between my last blog post and now, I figured I should probably address that first before writing my annual post on what can’t-afford-it dress I would wear to the wouldn’t-let-me-near-the-event-with-a-hundred-foot-pole Oscars. So here goes.

To say motherhood started out roughly for me would be an understatement. Archie will be 9 months old in a couple of weeks. It’s simultaneously been the longest and quickest 9 months of my life. I flat-out adore him…now. When he first showed up, I was a depressed, sleep-deprived, “why the hell did I do this?” mess. I never wanted any harm to come to him, but it felt like I had birthed a human Tamogotchi:

Tamagotchis are a small alien species that deposited an egg on Earth to see what life was like, and it is up to the player to raise the egg into an adult creature. The creature goes through several stages of growth, and will develop differently depending on the care the player provides, with better care resulting in an adult creature that is smarter, happier, and requires less attention…The player can care for the pet as much or as little as they choose, and the outcome depends on the player's actions. 

So, no pressure! A parent’s actions are only responsible for the health, wellbeing, and overall happiness of the kid. All I had to do was live my life in 3-hour cycles, pressing the real-life feeding, bathroom, and sleep “buttons.” (The sleep button seemed to malfunction often, BTW. And the bathroom button was highly volatile).

I was afraid to take him anywhere, so I mostly spent my maternity leave on the couch, watching daytime TV and hoping he would just fall/stay asleep. I cried everyday. I hated to nap, because I’d wake up disoriented and, just for a moment, forget he existed…then I’d remember and feel worse than ever.

I’m lucky I have the greatest, most supportive husband in the world. He not only took great care of the baby, but got me the help I needed: counseling and anti-depressants (oh, anti-depressants, my old friend!). And gradually, it got better.

I still don’t know what I’m doing most of the time, but I now have faith that I can figure it out. Archie lights up when I enter the room, and vice versa (he’s also started screaming when I leave the room, which is…less cute). I love my drooly, non-napping, dog-chasing kid. I love that he finds hats hysterical; that he likes to bite feet; that he heads straight for the space heater, or dog bowl, or air vent, or anything else we don’t want him touching, over and over and over. He is weird and funny and adorable and 100% mine.

That being said, I still hear the Hallelujah Chorus most days as he heads off to daycare. Judge me if you must.