Freedom

I joined a group for new moms. It's not a support group. At least they don't say it is. It's largely a group of unshowered, sticky women with babies hanging from them. So, basically your average support group.

As today was the final day, we were asked to go around the room and discuss loss we've experienced, an inevitable piece of taking on any new role. Some said they once had clean floors, others reflected on their pre-sagging hard bodies sculpted daily at the gym. Some people missed coffee, others wished they could simply say "booze," but covered it up with the always safe "time with my girlfriends."

Since birth, Baby Pasz has been swaddled. If you're not familiar, it's the process of wrapping small humans in circulation-cutting blankets - when you really mean business, sometimes equipped with velcro. The goal is to create "womb-like" security. Or, force, sorry, encourage them stop screaming and sleep all night. Grandparents think its horribly cruel and carefully say things like, "She...she likes that, you say?" Whether or not you are down with the swaddle, parents across the world are sleeping soundly tonight, my friend.

When considering the most significant change since becoming a mother, I thought of all of the times we spontaneously booked plane tickets to wherever we wanted, spent what felt like entire paychecks on magnificent meals, changed our minds and our plans within seconds to suit our mood. Though much of those decisions were made to soothe our ache of wanting a child, they are carefree, fantastic memories that I'm grateful we created.

After her 5:30 a.m. feeding, I always release her arms and unswaddle her, letting her lay in bed with us for the remainder of the morning. She happily stretches for what seems like hours, discovering her new length every day. Though she refuses to sleep without it and does so with great content, I know she can't wait to stretch out in the morning.

It's a funny thing, freedom and motherhood. Looking back on mine doesn't give me anywhere near the sense of loss I know I'll feel when she gains hers.