About five months into motherhood, I read this quote by Shonda Rhimes from her book Year of Yes: You can quit a job. I can’t quit being a mother. I’m a mother forever. Mothers are never off the clock, mothers are never on vacation. Being a mother redefines us, reinvents us, destroys and rebuilds us. Being a mother brings us face-to-face with ourselves as children, with our mothers as human beings, with our darkest fears of who we really are. Being a mother requires us to get it together or risk messing up another person forever. Being a mother yanks our hearts out of our bodies and attaches them to our tiny humans and sends them out into the world, forever hostages.” At the time, I remember thinking, “Whoa, this is intense!” I got that her intention was probably to drive home the beauty and strength of motherhood, but it made the experience sound terrifying. Lately, however, I’ve been reflecting on a few parts of the quote in different ways. “Being a mother brings us …

It’s been 112 days since I became a mother, and some days I feel more deserving of the title than others. I often wonder whether I’ve earned it yet; I know I haven’t experienced even a fraction of the failures, victories, joys and lessons that can come with motherhood. Or I question my choices, beating myself up when I fall short of perfection. Why? Because society–men, our government, folks without children, and sometimes even other moms–do not accept imperfect mothers. Social media is ripe with examples of others sizing up the decisions of mothers, throwing around their opinions about what they would do, and what they believe qualifies a “good” parent. They say “A good mother would never do that” or “ If that were my child I’d do things this way.” As a result, many of us suffer in silence. Mothers have become masters of disguise – I know, because that fear of scrutiny quiets my willingness to share anything but the best of me. When deciding whether or not to get an epidural, …

The time has come and I returned to my life and responsibilities outside of the home. Maternity leave is officially over. Cue the sad music; I didn’t want it to end but I was also ready. I have spent eight weeks at home after the birth of our second son, returning a full 4 weeks earlier than last time. I have resumed my weekly yoga teaching, begun seeing clients, as well as returning to my duties as a salon owner. The return, like last time, was full of anxiety for me based in unknown variables like how in the world will I find time to pump, teach, twist hair, write, cook, clean, love my man, wash my face and sleep each day. My plate is full to say the least. It’s the nature of working for yourself. The only reason it even works and I am able to survive is because of my village.  I couldn’t have known how important our circle of family and friends would be in this stage of our lives. I’d always …

For the past month I have basically been proving myself wrong. It’s truly the theme of motherhood for me. I have preconceived notions of what I won’t be able to handle or do and in the end here I am– handling things. So before we welcomed our second son, I hypothesized there would not be enough: time to love and nurture them both; sleep between newborn and toddler schedules. Enough help with childcare. Enough energy left over to foster the bond between my husband and I.  Enough of me left to recognize myself.  While my experiment is ongoing, data shows I was tripping, I mean incorrect. Overall I am still in a honeymoon phase with my new little one, enjoying his snuggles and breast milk breath. There is an awe that comes with looking into those little eyes, imagining all the unfolding that can be for this little life that until a short while ago was inside of you. I am fully basking in the tender love my older son has for his little brother. …

This is the introductory piece in a four-piece series entitled “In Infancy.” by guest contributor Kelley Carboni-Woods. Kelley lives in Charlotte with her husband Christian and their 2 year old son, Palmer and one day old (!!) son, Duke.  Kelley is a hair stylist, salon owner, yoga instructor and writer. She writes about parenting on her blog Infectiously Happy. I’ve asked her to share four pieces with us here—one each month over the next four months.