Bittersweet

I think I put my finger on one of the most heart-breaking aspects of motherhood.

When Belle was born, I was hit by the truck of the fact that she relied on me for everything.  Of course I nursed her and changed her diaper, but I also removed the dandruff (cradle cap) from her scalp, cut her nails, and even sucked the snot from her nose.  The concept of motherhood as a 24-hour/7-day job and the reality that my baby needed me for everything nearly all of the time was blow of a concept. 

Just when I accepted, and even embraced, the idea of being fully needed, that’s just when Belle began to become independent.  Belle feeds and dresses herself, and she’s even potty trained. (And she’s not even four years old!)

And I think this will be the story of the rest of motherhood, for a while anyway.  I shifted my life paradigm to reflect my new all-encompassing responsibilities.  For so many months (from conception, through gestation and the first year of life), I did/ ate/ thought everything with the baby in mind.  But now, the baby is a child and needs me less and less every day.  Each new skill I teach or responsibility I bestow ironically makes me less needed. 

I realize that, in theory, this is the goal of parenthood: to raise my child to function- even succeed- independently.  It’s just a little bittersweet.