You're Growing Up Too Fast

On motherhood as a rite of passage...

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. A sigh. A roll. A readjustment. Inhale. Exhale.

I feel her hair nestled against my skin, my arm draped over her little belly as she breathes. I look at her long fingers that take after mine and examine the fingernails I need to trim. How did I grow those beautiful extremities inside of me?

I keep my cheek pressed up against her face for far too long and my arm begins to go numb, but I don’t want to forget any of it. During the day, she’s running wild around the house and I can’t get her to sit for more than a minute or two. Sometimes, randomly, she’ll come up and put her head on my lap for a cuddle. But those moments are becoming more and more fleeting as she grows.

My grandmother used to tell me, “You’re growing up too fast.” She’d be sitting on the porch as I swam in the pool on a hot summer’s day, drinking her large glass of ice-cold sweet tea with extra lemon. I had only seen her white blonde hair bob in the water once, until she got sprayed by one of the fountain hoses and said, “Never again.”

I would roll my eyes playfully and laugh at her seemingly silly remark. I wasn’t growing up fast enough, I’d think. Now I understand. She was right, of course. There are those moments in early motherhood that I would wish away…

The sleepless nights.

The pumping alone at midnight while the baby was fast asleep for those few short hours.

The broken body fresh from giving birth.

But on the nights now when she needs to be curled up into me to sleep soundly, meaning that my shoulder muscles ache and I cannot sleep myself, I wouldn’t wish a minute of it away because I know how short this time truly is.

Motherhood changes you, if you let it. Suddenly all that time you never thought you had but really had in abundance becomes your ‘before’ life, and your ‘after’ life is filled with whispers of an hour here and a minute there where you build your new dreams. And you want more than ever before… because the most important person in your world is watching your every move.

You lose yourself in motherhood, but if you allow the transformation to occur, sink into the rough edges of this unfamiliar identity, and embrace the magical flow of time, you will find a new version of yourself, the one that you always dreamed of becoming.

I thought I knew who I was before I became a mother. But there is a maturity that cannot be bypassed without a selfless act of devotion to someone other than yourself. This can also occur through taking care of a sick parent, or raising a pet you feel is your familiar, or being in a deeply committed marriage.

But for me, it was becoming a mother.

My deepest calling that I didn’t even know I needed. When she came out through me and was put on my chest, it was like the skies parted and the Universe itself said, “You have arrived.”

All that I thought I knew had vanished, and the uncharted path ahead became my greatest guide. I had stepped through this rite of passage and rather than try to skirt around it or ignore it completely, I melted into it and fell down the rabbit hole.

I know that our future holds more lessons, more challenges, more experiences than I can imagine right now, but the presence motherhood has given me has prepared me for it all.

For now, I’ll look at her tiny toes as they push between my legs to keep warm. I’ll look at every strand of her hair before she decides to dye it as a teenager. I’ll hold the rolls of her wrist in mine, and I’ll devote myself to her again and again and again, so that she can become who she is again and again and again.

Until maybe, she becomes a mother herself. And I’ll say, “You’re growing up too fast.”

She’ll smile, and know exactly what I am talking about.