Motherhood can be, kind of, ugly.

There are plenty of not-so-great qualities about myself. I can be petty and selfish and I have never ever liked my nose. I have a lot to work on, and the older I get, the more areas I notice.

But I have always loved my hair- it has always been good to me.  And then thanks to really great genetics, I've never had to work hard at being a healthy weight. I didn't say I'm a Skinny Minnie. But I can put down some ice cream with little consequence. Also, my eyes. Ever since I got contacts in the 7th grade, I found confidence in my almond shaped emerald eyes.

AND THEN 2017 HAPPENED. 

First, we'll talk Hair. After Lucas was born, it all fell out. 

Oh Tricia, you're so dramatic. 

NO. I have two large bald spots at my hairline. My beautiful hair, what doesn't fall out during a rare shower, became brittle and stringy and greasy all the time. Postpartum hair loss is fairly common, so I tell myself that it will go back to normal. 

I'm not about to complain about my c-section belly bump because I will always be 100% grateful I was able to carry two babies full-term. This big ole belly was Lucas' first home. And since he was over 10 pounds, it looks like a good portion of his first home is a permanent part of my life now. It is here to stay, no matter how much kale I grin-bear-eat.

Eyes. Have you ever heard of recurrent corneal erosion? Neither had I, until I was diagnosed with it in January. Back in August, Ella accidentally swatted my eye and although I didn't think anything of it at the time, it did some serious damage. Initially, my left eye just hurt when I took out my contact. It got so bad that I couldn't wear my contacts anymore at all. Then after Lucas was born and I was sleeping better, I started waking up in the night in excruciating pain. I could not sleep for more than a 3 hour stretch before waking up with the pain, and it would take about an hour for it to ease up enough for me to go back to sleep. 

The ophthalmologist explained that when my eye was first scratched, it formed a scab for healing, just like when you scrape your knee. But when I wore my contact, the scab would adhere to the contact. So when I would remove the contact, I was pulling the scab off of my eyeball. 

Does the very thought of ripping off an eyeball scab make you want to go running, screaming into the ocean?

When I was sleeping, the scab was adhering to my eyelid. Whenever I opened my eyes, Rip. Horrible pain. During rapid eye movement sleep, when my eye would move, Rip. Horrible pain. 

It got so bad that I was hardly able to sleep at all. 

Add to that a four year old, a three year old, a two year old, and a newborn. 

Add to that, a husband working long hours and studying for his boards at night. 

Add to that we had moved far from family and friends, so I felt lonely and isolated. 

It was not a pretty time for me. I didn't recognize immediately that I was also dealing with postpartum depression. I always thought you had postpartum depression  if you felt unattached to your new baby, and I only had feelings of love for that smooshy sack of sugar. My depression came in the form of uncontrollable rage. Which was so weird because I've never been an angry person. But there I was, screaming into a sweatshirt in my closet, because I had no other outlet for the raging anger bubbling out. I feel so very ugly when I'm in these rage-fueled moments. I feel overwhelmed and out of control and just ugly.

I know how ridiculous a lot of this sounds. I know how whiny it all is. 

#firstworldproblems 

It is not at all lost on me that I have it so good while other people struggle with much worse.

At least my hair loss is from having a beautiful baby and not because I'm undergoing chemo for cancer.

I should remember how many girls would proudly carry extra weight around their mid-section if it meant they could finally have the baby they pray for every single day. 

I need to be thankful that even though my eye situation was a complete hellscape, I still have my sight- I never lost my vision. And thanks to corneal surgery, I can sleep pain-free. (don't google what they do for eyeball surgery- just know it was horrific)

I get lost in my pity parties, then I immediately feel guilty for being bummed about such insignificant and petty things. So I live on this emotional rollercoaster of pity then guilt, pity then guilt.

I was soooooo tired one night while I was combing out Abby Bette's hair. Caleb was working his weekend shift, so I had the kiddos all to myself. I was trying to comb her hair into two puffs. Lucas was screaming in the baby swing. Ella and Joshua were jumping on the couch downstairs. Abs was yelling at me that she did NOT WANT PUFFS. She wanted a long ponytail. I was trying to gently tell her that I didn't have magic powers- her short afro wasn't going to make a long ponytail happen. She pitched a fit and I had to spend a hot minute in my screaming closet. 

On the way out, I passed by our bathroom mirror and saw myself. Flushed and sweaty from being a Rage Monster. Bald spots. Fat belly. Glasses hiding my pretty eyes. 

I didn't recognize that middle-aged woman in the mirror. 

I once led mission trips in Ecuador. 

I have hiked to the top of a volcano in Guatemala. 

I coordinated live shots with CNN during Hurricane Katrina. 

I talked with a homeless Canadian man about Jesus- he went on to help plant a church. 

I danced until 4am at fraternity parties and then ate breakfast platters at Waffle House.

So where was that girl? 

I felt a little bit lost in my own life. 

I felt very ugly on the outside, and the feelings of rage made me feel ugly on the inside too. 

When we meet new people here in NC, I feel the need to explain that what they see is not really who I am. I don't usually wear glasses, I want them to know. I'm usually not 20 pounds overweight, I need them to understand. My hair sometimes looks better than this, I'm not usually sweating like crazy (thanks postpartum medication), I'm not always frantically running after four kids.... there's this other part of me that is lively and funny and friendly. I don't usually look this bad. I'm usually more fun to be around. Please be my friend!

This past Friday afternoon, it started pouring down rain outside. Abby Bette was watching TV and the other three were napping. I went out on the front porch, sat on the top step, and enjoyed the sound of the rain. Abs came out and sat beside me. 

We talked about how the heavy downpour reminded us of the frequent storms back home in Mobile. We talked about other things, girl-to-girl, and shared a bag of chocolate chips. It was nice. I asked her what her favorite food was and she told me pancakes. I asked her what her favorite movie was right now and she told me Smurfs. I asked her what  her favorite thing about school was and she told me about the butterfly thing they have in her preschool classroom. 

I asked her what she would change about herself if she could choose one thing. She said her hair because she wants a long ponytail and not puffs. Instead of giving her my usual spill, I asked her why a long ponytail was so important to her.

Because you have a long ponytail, Mom.

And then I remembered that she's been begging me for real glasses- not fake ones. I asked her why she wanted glasses. 

Because you have glasses, Mom. 

What do you want to be when you grow up, Abby Bette? I ask her. 

A Mommy. 

 

She wants to be just like me. She doesn't see my bald spots, and she thinks glasses are cool because her mommy wears them. Childhood innocence is a precious thing.

 

Maybe I'll feel more secure about my looks one day. Maybe I'll make a friend or two while we live up here. Maybe my hair will grow back. Maybe it won't.

I'm in the Mommy Zone, and it's not so pretty at times. I literally bought a new swimsuit and it has a skirt. A skirt, people. 

But I am going to absolutely love playing with my kids at the beach this summer. I will have to put extra sunscreen on my forehead- can't have those bald spots burn! I will have to wear super dorky sunglasses that are made to fit over glasses, and I will probably look chunky in my swimsuit with a skirt. 

It's not going to look pretty. But after my chat with Abs, I'm confident I'll look back on this phase of my life, this motherhood phase, and I'll remember it as the most beautiful part of all. 

Watching Joshua hold open a door for someone else.

Listening to Abby Bette sincerely pray. 

Hearing Ella's crazy giggles.

Feeling Lucas' slobber kisses on my cheek. 

Caleb holding my hand.

My life is beautiful.