Hello, my name is Mother

The frustration that has bothered me most the last couple of weeks is losing my sense of self. The last few days it has absolutely consumed me.

While pregnant you read all of the articles and other literature on how to be a successful parent. Then, when you sit there holding that squirming and adorable little baby in your arms, you come to realize how absolutely useless it all was. 

For instance, the ridiculous notion of "sleep when the baby sleeps." To put my thoughts as kindly as possible, what the fuck? If you sleep when the baby sleeps then you will never get a chance to shower, eat, clean up, go buy diapers/ other infant flotsam, and that laundry pile will soon engulf all available space in your home. Whoever first uttered that phrase needs to be strung up and dropped down (if you take my meaning).

My life has become so consumed in taking care of this child that I have completely lost my sense of self, the meaning and enjoyment I had in my life before has been buried in a damp grave never to see the light of day again. I look at my bookshelves in longing as I am once again nursing the baby with one hand while trying desperately to eat a few bites of my dinner with the other. I glance at the drawer of dust rags and yearn to clean my home as I'm rocking back and forth while singing random show tunes trying to make the crying stop. My running shoes sit in the corner collecting dust, the piano rests under the window tuneless, and the book I've been struggling to write has lost all of it's pzazz. 

Every moment, awake or asleep, is now completely engulfed in taking care of this child. I no longer have a sense of self. I'm simply Mother. I'm the diaper changer, baby feeder, and singer of random show tunes (as I do not remember the children's songs of my youth). I lack all personality, all qualities that make one unique. I take no joy from daily activities and do not rest at night. I am no one. I am simply Mother.