Wilde Mocha Babe

I remember texting with a close friend around the time I gave birth. She reached out to congratulate me and we continued to chat about the sobering experience we now both have in common.

She texted, “It’s like you don’t even remember being pregnant. You give birth and then forget. lol.” I remember reading that and laughing wondering if I would feel the same. Her words echoed in my mind a month into postpartum and she was right. Was pregnancy a figment of my imagination? Or, did I disassociate from what people deemed the most magical moment of your life?

Shit, 5 months postpartum my mind is still trying to catch up with the bodily and life change. I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I was actually pregnant having to grow a whole child inside my womb. Most days I felt pregnant, looked pregnant, but there was this deep sense of disbelief that tethered to me. Little did I know I would face those same feelings again when rushing our baby to the ER due to respiratory distress.

“It’s like you don’t even remember being pregnant. You give birth and you forget.”

I made a TikTok video yesterday that shared a short 15 second clip with the caption, “so when your child is sick why does it feel like you’re going to war with everyone??”

Who knew being in the ER advocating for the needs of my child would bring me back to the feelings I felt while pregnant with them.

Pregnancy has changed me. I’m aware of that more as the days pass me by. Literally, the days come and go triggering my fight or flight. All things involving my little one I don’t think twice about. I’m ready at the door to handle any and everything that comes their way.

I want the smoke but I’ll always approach things with a balance headspace first. Don’t get it twisted—if I have to unleash that energy I will by any means. I do understand why my mother felt the need to be about that life all the time when it came to her children.

There’s a level of assertiveness you need—awareness when entering into these spaces especially when your child’s life is in someone else’s hands. You know the saying “no one knows your child like you know your child” which translates in my mind f*ck around and find out if you think you’re going to treat my child however you like.

“I want the smoke but I’ll always approach things with a balance headspace first. Don’t get it twisted—if I have to unleash that energy I will by any means.”

So imagine experiencing your first medical emergency with your infant realizing you are still experiencing the disbelief you felt while pregnant. Everything moving in even slower motion and reality setting in—I’m really somebody’s parent.

When a child is born and they choose you as their parent you’ve then been initiated into a new relationship—new life that is uniquely created just for the two of you. You also are on constant high alert—your antennas up scoping the scene for any possible threat.

All of these feelings—experiences some you can’t even predict put you out front and center into the bat shit beautiful crazy world of parenting.

Is it unpredictable? Yes.

Would I trade being my child’s parent for the world? No.

Through each day of parenting as challenging as it is. This is a love—a responsibility—a level of care I’m committed to until I am no longer on this earth.

H.B.A.R 4 Life 🤍

Love,

Wilde Mocha Babe