Bringing Up Baby

Documenting the baby makin' experience. From Trying to Conceive, to Bringing Up Babies, I share all the laughs and all the horror.

I'm Jess, I'm 31 years old, I live in Minneapolis with The Husband, Jack (the girl dog with a boy name), and The Mac -- the person we made. He's pretty much the most awesome human being alive and easily the greatest thing I've ever done . We're expecting another little dude this spring and I suspect he'll be just as awesome

If you're interested, my primary blog is Scattered Jigsaw Thoughts.

Feel free to Ask Me Anything

Or you can just email me: sutherslat {at} gmail {dot} com

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But in those early months of my son’s life, there was no question that no matter how lovely, amusing and interesting he found his daddy, I was his world. If the entire human race except for the two of us had been wiped out that first year of his life, my son would have been just fine. He ate from my body, slept nestled against me, spent a good number of his waking hours in my arms, followed me steadily with his dark eyes when he reclined in his bouncy seat across the room. I’d read that babies don’t comprehend that their bodies are separate from the bodies of their mothers until they are three or four months old, and I struggled to comprehend the same thing.

From Baby Weight by Cheryl Strayed

I don’t know that any quote has more perfectly summed up my feelings on those early days of motherhood (and, admittedly, even the occasional present day). There have certainly been times when Mac has felt like my whole world and I have most certainly felt like his.

He is my little dude, my faithful sidekick, “my son, my sun, my son, my sun”. On one hand, my love for him was so natural and inherent that it seems like a foregone conclusion that I could only feel the same way about his new little brother, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry that I’m not capable of the same kind of love for our next child.

I know that’s normal. I know that most people fear that they don’t have enough love to give. And so I guess I’m normal, but it still feels incredibly abnormal to worry that you won’t be able to love your children equally.

I simply have to keep trusting in my inherent ability as a mother to love every being I bring into this world equally and completely with my whole heart.