Momma's Getting Her Groove Back

One of the hardest things about motherhood, possibly THE hardest, at least from where I'm sitting, is seeing yourself as a woman again after baby. Too many of us slip into the habit of being "just a mother", and forget that there are many mantles we must wear. Mommy, wife, lover, friend, companion, WOMAN. Too often we forget what we were before we had a baby asleep in its crib and a lounge floor covered in scattered toys and bread crumbs. I had an amazing pregnancy, I adored carrying my tiny bundle around inside of me. And I felt empowered by my little man's tiny and growing presence. I took strength from him when I felt weak, and shared all of my thoughts and dreams with him before he'd drawn his first breath. And I loved the way my pregnant body grew and changed. I enjoyed all the new curves - the fullness of my thighs, the weight of my breasts. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I had purpose. True purpose. A calling. I felt calm, at peace, and full. I was woman. But, after a few months of erratic sleep patterns, feeding bras and ponytails, not to mention a year of being little more than a milk dispenser to a very hungry child, it's not hard to see why the former womanly you may take a back seat.

I'm not saying I forgot myself entirely. I still refuse to leave the house without being properly put together, I still enjoy my figure-hugging clothing, and nothing makes a girl feel girlier than a bit of lipstick and a pair of killer heels. But when I look in the mirror, the thought that crosses my mind is "I don't look bad for a mom". I blame society for the perception that even we ourselves have of mothers. A mother is a beautiful and powerful thing. But that power has been taken from us. Strangers are surprised to find that I am a mother. "You don't look like a mom". What should a mom look like? Whatever she wants. Because mother is woman. A stranger on the street would never know whether I was a mother or not. I certainly don't have the usual markers. No mom jeans, no station wagon. Hell, I'm an emancipated woman! But joking aside, once you have donned the crown of "mother", it is hard to see yourself as anything else. You are never alone again. There could be wars and tidal waves and the world could fall down around you, but mommy you remain. And that is glorious. It should be worn with pride. But we must not forget.

I was reminded this past March, just before my little man's first birthday. I was being put together for Nats' wedding and the photographer decided to take a few beauty shots while I was awaiting my turn in the chair. I'm no model, but I'm not ashamed to admit, the attention was nice. A little bit of flattery and I felt 25 again. Nats ordered a few prints as my birthday gift, and I love them. When I look at these images, I don't see just a mother, I see a mother who is a woman. Who says we can't have our cake and eat it?

{PHOTO CREDIT: Jacques le Roux - Omega Photography}

{NOTE: I do not smoke. I am, in fact, morally opposed to mothers who smoke, especially with young children. This was for the sake of the photography, all in the name of art and fun.}

So here's to mothers. And here's to women. May they be one and the same.

Smiles,
Mommy