In My Mama Era

Motherhood for me had always been a mystery behind a curtain, one I glanced at with equal wonder and apprehension. I wanted to understand how it could simultaneously be the hardest but most rewarding thing, and why people kept having children despite the evident exhaustion and chaos that came with it. But on April 7^th of this year, on Armenian Mother’s Day, the curtain was drawn open and I became a mama to our daughter, Sanahin.

Her birth involved a literal curtain too. Due to some complications, I ended up having a C-section, and despite not being an overly sentimental person, the moment I heard her first cry will forever be etched in my memory. It was so distinct from any baby sound I had ever heard and already I thought I could recognize it anywhere.

It was also the culmination of all those months of waiting and wondering, the first real, tangible thing about her. From the moment I had seen the positive pregnancy test, I had known that she was a girl. Don’t ask me how; I just couldn’t picture her as anything other than a girl, no matter how hard I tried. But other than that, she had been a total mystery to us… until that moment. 

Daniel and I looked at each other in tears as we waited for the nurse to bring her to us. If I could relive anything in my life over and over again, it would be her first cry and the feel of her face on mine for the first time.

Despite the bliss I felt, I also braced myself for the oncoming avalanche of parenthood. And as I had expected (but could never be prepared for) it turned my world on its head like nothing else. Suddenly I was no longer the center of my life but this little, vulnerable, adorable being that depended on me for everything, 24/7.

I cried so often during those first few weeks, missing how simple our life had been (not that I thought so then, haha), the freedom of spontaneous outings, the long and relaxed conversations around the dinner table, the luxury of complaining about “only” five hours of sleep and drinking anything while still warm. I felt nailed to the sofa as I wrestled with breastfeeding (I had no idea that that would be the hardest part!), rocking Sanahin to sleep, gently putting her down in her bassinet only for her to wake up seconds later and make me start the whole process all over again. The sleep deprivation didn’t help either.

But a lot changed as I scrolled through an online forum of moms that said that the laundry and dishes can wait, because one day I will wish I could snuggle with my baby but she will be all grown up. I decided after that to not feel “unproductive” because I didn’t manage anything else; I just put her on my chest and let her nap there as long as she wanted. Even the fear that she would get too used to being held turned out to be unfounded, because overnight she taught herself to fall asleep on her own and left me longing for her to wrap her little arm around my neck and give that deep sigh of contentment.

Another mom wrote that whenever she has to comfort her crying baby or wake up in the middle of the night to feed them, she imagines that she is now older, that her baby has grown up and moved out, and that she has traveled back in time just for this one last snuggle. Tearing up, I already felt nostalgic towards a time—and a difficult one at that—which I was still living in.

I also began to remind myself that whatever is making my baby cry is ten times scarier for her than it is frustrating for me—and what a privilege that I can be her comfort! She isn’t doing it to make my life difficult and she isn’t a burden.

Even with these realizations, there are days when I lose my grit, and then I just need to step out of the room, breathe, remind myself of these things, and go back.

Despite my ever-growing love for Sanahin and all the laughter she brings with her cuteness (especially once she started to smile and interact with us), it felt like our life would always be chaos. My mom had prepared me, based on her own experiences, that the first two months would be the hardest. At the time I wanted to cry because two months sounded like an eternity, but in what felt like a few days, Sanahin turned four months… and how different things are already! I can’t and don’t want to imagine our life without her. It is so true that the days are long but the years are short. Everyone tells me that it will all fly by in the blink of an eye, and I’m starting to believe it.

Every time she beams at me with her big googly eyes like I’m her favorite person, I know I wouldn’t give her up if I could do it over again. I can’t wait to unravel her character as she grows up, I can’t wait for all the things we can do as a little family, all the books I can read to her, all the questions she will ask that will dismantle how I see the world.

Even on days when I don’t love motherhood, it’s her I love and she makes it all worth it.