My transition into motherhood! Happy Birthday, Madina!

                If I could describe my transition into motherhood in anyway, I would compare it to the Hunger Games, but more so Parenting Games. Except, no one dies (hopefully), and just about everyone can win, but the struggle to stay afloat is real. Directly after giving birth, it was as if some PFO (Parenthood Flying Object) abducted me, transported me to this new world and left me here. The new world looks the same as the old but feels very different. There are veterans and rookies, and the veterans are at the top of the parenthood hierarchy. The veterans, though they mean well, often aim to give advice to rookies, but some advice is unwarranted. However, no matter how many veterans offer a helping hand (for the most part), eventually parents are left to fend for themselves.

                In the first three months I was in a realm where stretches of sleep were a luxury, afforded only to a few lucky parents who by chance had an infant who slept through the night. In this new world, I am not just known as Mariam, rather, I am the mother of Madina. In this new world, it is a tiny, fragile, innocent human being who controls my thoughts, my fears and my every move.

                Like a deer in headlights, I am afraid, confused, and constantly worried about whether I am doing the right thing. I fear the judgment of other parents who have done this before and wonder if I could live up to the expectations of being a good parent. Although I’m slowly starting to realize that being a good parent is somewhat subjective; I still research, read blogs, speak with doctors, and yet find myself trapped in gray areas because my kid will not respond to the techniques that experts suggest.

                Though it may seem that this new world is grim, I assure you it’s anything but. It’s brighter, greener, and more fulfilling that I could have ever imagined. Staying awake is worth it when you get to look into your little ones eyes during the night’s quietest hours. Being scared is okay if it means making sure your baby feels safe. The imaginary rope that has you feeling tied down loosens up when your baby smiles and your heart feels like it’s about to explode into all things that represent happiness. And, as I watch my baby, this little piece of me, grow up in this big world I feel like it makes me a better person. I am able to reflect on my own life, and my own childhood, and recognize the importance of being kind to others. Because with every act of kindness, I realize that my interaction is with someone else’s daughter or son. And, I think about how appreciative I would feel if acts of kindness were passed on to my little girl.

                On her first birthday, I am incredibly emotional. I’m re watching old videos, reminiscing on old pictures and I’m just in awe at how quickly she has grown. I pray that everyone who wants to be a parent gets to be part of this new world. It’s shining, shimmering splendor (I’m sorry). Happy Birthday to my angel, my first born. Happy Birthday, Madina! Mommy and Daddy love you.