Everyday I hear about people preparing for the Zombie apocalypse. They hoard food. They hoard gold. They hoard weapons and write books about Zombie apocalypse preparedness. These people are intense in either a fear of, or love for, zombies. (At least that’s what I read on the internet….)
I think the fear is misplaced. They are preparing for the wrong apocalypse. I doubt the dead will rise and suddenly decide that human brains are a delicacy. (Although people DO eat sushi and sweetbreads…so- it could happen…) But, still. We ought to be more concerned about the Mom-bie apocalypse.
I know this because they already walk among us.
I’ve met one.
I’m not sure what did it. Maybe it was the pallor of her skin, or her disheveled hair (that really needed a washing and a trim) that gave her away. But once I took in the full picture- complete with suspiciously stained clothes, bloodshot eyes and a gait that was one part shuffle one part limp- arms holding a bundle so close to it’s chest that they appeared to be unable to move from that position- I knew it was true.
I was face to face with a Mom-bie.
Mom-bie-One who (daily and several times nightly) rises from (what feels like) the dead and carries out tasks as if totally obsessed and yet vacant and a touch vicious at the same time.
The first time- I met her in the mirror. She, was me.
I’ve spent months and months as a Mombie it appears to be a side effect of the birth.
The first time, (Over 22 years ago) it scared me. I feared for more than my life. I thought my very soul and SELF was at risk. I was afraid I’d stay that way: Bpdy parts dripping, obsessed with the next nursing and nap, while completely forgetting to feed and (often) even wash myself. (I was thrilled if I btw bathed AND brushed my teeth in the same day- those were like holidays. I expected fireworks and a parade….) Forget about higher level issues like calling and fulfillment… I was afraid I wouldn’t survive.
I did survive. I didn’t stay like that. Like the Zombie apocalypse preparedness peeps- I too, learned to be prepared.
I didn’t start hoarding gold, or food or weaponry. (Unless you count lego’s and zippy cups- which I can assure both can cause bodily harm.)
Instead, I started hoarding friends, help, hope, practical information and support.
I didn’t find those things on some weird online chat- or a website that also “just so happens to sell” what you need….at a discount price. (Seriously- Google: Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness….. It’s hilarious in a sad kind of way. Okay0 maybe don’t. It’s weird.)
I found it at MOPS International. A place where women gather and prepare for and survive their personal “Mombie apocalyses.” (Apocalpi? Whatever- the plural of apocalypse is:P)
Eventually, I started less hoarding and more sharing…. Now, I with MOPS International as both a Field Leader and a Board Member- but, I still remember those days.
The days I felt and looked like a zombie… (Okay I still have a few here and there- but they are tiny relapses mostly around a certain date of the month and have nothing to do with childbirth.) the days I wondered how I’d survive. The days I feared I was the only one- roaming the planet in a stupor, she kind of genetically defected beast among all the other mothers who pushed their Britax strollers with giggling infants and perfectly coiffed hair…
Maybe you’re there now. Maybe you met a Mombie in the mirror this morning. Or at Target, or the mall…. if you are- I hope you’ll look for a MOPS Group in your area- better yet- I hope you’ll come to Dallas with us for our annual MOPS convention– where women are refreshed and transformed from Mombies to Mommies in just a few days.
If you meet a Mombie today- I hope you’ll be careful not to take a judgmental hatchet to her head and make her feel even worse than she already does. (We all know we can shoot those hatchets with our eyes… don’t deny it) Unlike Zombies- Mombies are not (generally) dangerous…. Instead- I hope you’ll give her a smile, a nod- or say something encouraging…..anything that says “We can survive the apocalypse..” It will get better- and so can we- together. (Except don’t maybe bring up the apocalypse part.. that’ll sound nuts and could push the poor girl right over the edge…..)
PS- Mothering is not all post apocalyptic Mombies and losing yourself….. it’s beautiful… but- if we’re honest- it has it’s days- I’m just keeping it real:)
A Prayer for Mombies:
Dear Lord- I remember staggering trough days that lasted years. I remember the bloodshot eyes and the arms that felt like concrete from carrying a little one and praying they’d go to sleep. I remember the decadence of a shower AND tooth brushing- the spa like experience of a dental appointment that required a sitter without guilt….(I made that part up- but it could have happened.) Lord- I pray for every mom who reads today- that she would be Mombie prepared- with hope, and help and encouragement. I pray that she would know she doesn’t walk this earth alone- somewhere between dead and alive…. but that she walks THROUGH h a season of exhaustion and hard work…. That she doesn’t have to do it alone…. no one is after her brain. In Jesus name- amen.