Merging motherhood and self

The journey of regaining my identity

When I became a mother there was a lot of talk of the 4th trimester and the transition into motherhood. That beautiful time when your baby comes into the world but is so tiny they need still be cocooned and sheltered, as does the mother. It’s that beautiful time where the days and nights are long but the smell of their tiny head and sweet little face somehow pulls you through the stage of sleep deprivation. It’s a time when I was so deeply connected emotionally, physically and spiritually to this little one as if we were still the same person. Transitioning into motherhood was easy in the way that there was not really an option not to. I had a baby, I was a mother. But what I never heard talk of was what happens when your precious baby grows. And who you become once you leave the baby bubble.

It was easy for me to give in fully to motherhood when my babies were, well, babies and I’m so glad I did as it made life so much simpler. Apart from a small amount of work I had to finish for a client over the first 6 months of Sonny’s life (which was still too much!) I was in the fortunate position that my husband was able to provide for us so I was not rushed to re-enter the workforce and I could dedicate my whole self to being with my little ones.

Days back then were a blur of sleepless nights and park dates with friends,  rushing to get dinner ready,  endless piles of laundry and late afternoons at the rockpools watching the little ones discover the joys of eating sand. The transition from babyhood to toddlerhood wasn’t as big for me with my first as by the time he reached 19 months (peak toddlerhood in my opinion), I had given birth to another baby boy. So I quite happily got to staying in the baby bubble without too much disruption. Of course, the tantrums were terrible and two under two is extremely challenging in so many ways, but at that point, young children were all I knew. My first had never got to the point of sleeping through the night before our next arrived, so life in that regard didn’t change much.

It wasn’t until the last six months perhaps, once Sylver got to about one and a half when a shift started to happen. I had weaned him at this point because of his lack of interest in anything but biting my nipples no matter what I tried and his father and I had decided that our family was now complete with the two boys. It was the first time in 4 years that I hadn’t been pregnant or breastfeeding (or both at once) and all of a sudden life started to look different. It felt like I was emerging from the warm cocoon of early motherhood. All of a sudden my body wasn’t needed to grow or sustain life, it was mine again (although from the amount of boob squeezing I still get from my 2 yr old it often doesn’t feel that way).

It felt like I could start getting back to ‘me’. The only problem was that I didn’t know who that ‘me’ was anymore.

My self before children worked enough to have a leisurely life full of slow mornings journaling, hours-long bush walks alone or surfing whenever the wind was right. Sewing and crafting in the evenings, jumping on planes travelling across the world and making foolish decisions in pursuit of love. This was not a self I could, nor wanted to go back to. So I started to experiment.

At first, I decided I could dedicate myself to being a fitness mum who spent any spare moments working out and that would be the only self-care I needed. It helped a little. But most days even with the grandparents around (by this point we had moved back with them for 4 months) the kids still found a way to jump on my back as I was trying my best to do a push-up. I also re-discovered that exercise in itself is not enough to fill my cup.

I thought maybe now I could start my career as an embroiderer, but the bag of thread still sits unopened in my cupboard. I then started to work a little again at a job I didn’t love but could do from home because, well, living expenses in Australia…I stayed up late to get work done. I stressed myself to the bone feeling I had to use every single second the kids were occupied to be “Productive” to be something other than mum.

And I needed it. I needed to find my new identity after 3 solid years of only being ‘mum’. I pushed hard and tried in the attempt to reinvent myself but all that happened was one frustration after another as I tried to be two separate people.

Eventually, I realised that I was trying too hard to launch myself out of early motherhood, like stopping breastfeeding was somehow a switch. I had been told so many times that once I stopped breastfeeding I would get my body back, have more energy, my child would be less clingy. But no one said that the child wouldn’t change! I had been operating under the illusion that once breastfeeding was over my baby would all of a sudden be grown up and I would have my “life” back. I thought, when I stopped breastfeeding, I would magically be entering into a new phase of life. It would be a season where they both slept through the night and I woke early feeling refreshed. I would sit and drink tea alone in the early morning light while working on my novel. Once the cherubs woke we would play together and dance in the kitchen. I would have the time and energy to surf  3 times a week, work out, read so many books and start a business. But my boy was still a baby and my 3-year-old was still three years old and my desire to skip ahead to where it got “easier” was as unrealistic as being these two different people. Tansie and Mumma.

Whether I liked it or not, I was still in the thick of motherhood except without all that oxytocin that breastfeeding provided. I still had to wake multiple times a night to settle at least one of them. 

It wasn’t really until we moved to Indonesia 4 months ago that I truly began the journey of merging motherhood and self. Partly triggered by a conversation with my mother which led me to create my Six Small Things, and partly the ever-growing deep need to feel like my own person. I started to work out what truly lit me up and working out how I could create time in which to fulfil those needs. I started small - journaling again, which led me to one of my deepest joys, writing. My mind has begun to wander once more. My head is now filled with stories, not just never-ending to-do lists. I am feeling like more of a complete human again. Someone with thoughts and ideas that do not solely revolve around domestic life. My identity is now becoming Tansie once more. But, Tansie, who is a mother and a dreamer and a creator and a writer. Tansie who knows her needs are just as important as everyone else’s in the family.

It’s still a dance. Only this morning I was flipping pancakes in fury as once again my morning writing time was interrupted by little ones up too early. I was reminded by my husband that it was time to manage my expectations. And I’ve spent some of the morning rethinking my current rhythm. My life still isn’t truly mine and never will be, which is part of the wonder of being a parent. I will work around nap times and bedtimes. I will live with the consequences of staying out too late with the kids. Our home will only get louder as the boys grow and every time I find myself wishing away their current stage of life so that I can be in the season I want to be in, I will remind myself that Giving Into The Chaos does not have to mean giving up myself. 

I would love to hear about where you are at in your journey with motherhood and identity and if it flowed or if it was something you had to consciously work on.

Tansie x