Well, it's been a little over 6 months since I "officially" became a mom. I say "officially" because I technically became a mom when I got pregnant, but to avoid any political/religious/ethical/idiotic arguments as to when a baby is a baby, let's just keep the quotes around "officially" and leave it at that. I'm still pro-choice and having a baby did not change my mind in any way shape or form as to a woman's right to choose, so don't try to convince me otherwise.With that said, I thought I would take some time to reflect back on the last 6 months and how it has been becoming this "mother" I am now. I think I can sum it all up best with two words:
Now this two word phrase can be applied in so many ways as to the trials, tribulations and joys that becoming a mom entails. Holy Shit as in "Holy shit those contractions hurt", or "Holy Shit I made a human being", or even the "Holy Shit how can something so small make something like that in their diaper?". All in all, though, these two words have touched on every level of my emotional and physical being in becoming a parent. Holy Shit the metaphor, the figurative, the literal, and the just plain expletive. Motherhood defined.
All joking aside, it has been an experience. I look at Dante everyday and cannot believe that I MADE him. My body MADE him. Sure, Randy helped with his fantastic aim and super sperm, but in the end, I built a tiny human inside my body. One day the world's population was X and the next day, it was X plus 1. And I did that. It's absolutely mind boggling. Certain people have said to me, "How can you not believe in god? Don't you see god when you look into your child's eyes?". To which I frankly reply, "I see evolution and Darwinism and science and biology when I look into his eyes". I see the universe and, as Carl Sagan used to call us, "star stuff". I see Randy, I see myself, I see the wonder of nature. It's incredible to watch as Dante develops. I mean, where is that little larva I brought home from the hospital that was only concerned with sleeping, shitting and eating? He was this little bug; so small and so helpless. Now, at almost 7 months, Dante is crawling at Mach 10; eating like he's Andre the Giant; grabbing, touching, and putting everything he can find into his mouth; and, the best part, he's developing a personality. He's becoming human. He laughs at my funny dancing, he cries when I leave a room, he throws a fit when I take the remote control out of his mouth, and he nestles into my chest when he's tired. And I fucking MADE that. (once again, props go out to Randy for the catalyst).
With all of Dante's developments it's hard not to see the changes in myself as well. I used to be concerned about getting to the hottest club, or dancing all night, or the latest CD, or staying out until the wee hours of the morning, or the next party, or which scene I was going to try to make, or which photographer had to take my picture, or what magazine was going to write an article about me. All those concerns I had about myself are gone now. My nights are spent reading Pat the Bunny or Goodnight Moon. They're spent doing Infant Massage on a tired baby. They're spent falling asleep at 10 pm only to be woken up at 1 am because someone needs a rocking or two. I've traded in my black patent leather stilettos, for rubber soled Skechers. I've hung up the vinyl dresses and corsets and traded them in for coulottes and t-shirts. I've stopped getting party passes and drink tickets to the hottest nightclubs and instead am clipping coupons for Huggies and Pampers from the Sunday Paper.
And you know what? I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I used to think I knew it all. Living in New York, running a nightclub, taking full advantage of the City that Never Sleeps. Had you spoken to me 4 years ago, I would have laughed at the idea of children. "I hate kids. I'm never having kids", I would have told you. A divorce and the right man coming along told me otherwise. I never knew how much I wanted children until I met Randy. My mother used to always say to me, when I was married to the first one, "You don't want children because you haven't met the right man yet". How right she was. These days I know I don't know it all. But I do know that in just 6 months, I have realized how great it is to be a mom. Now, I'm sure that when Dante hits his terrible two's or is fifteen and wants to date or is 32 and wants to marry some girl (who will not be good enough for him I am sure), I will say it's not so great being mom, but for now....It's pretty fucking awesome.