Motherhood doesn’t cause transcendence

When my children were born, I was told I would feel transcendent. I would feel like a mother. Born into a spiritual state that would redefine my entire existence, awash in a miraculous love. I'd also probably have a halo.

But when my mom showed up at the hospital to cradle my daughter and she asked, 'How does it feel to be a mother?” I said, 'Just like me only I'm fatter.”

My children now are 2 and 4, and I'm still waiting for the transcendence. It's not showing up. I still feel just like myself, only my skin jiggles a little more, and I'm way more tired and I also carry tubs of Vaseline in my purse.

I recently reconnected with some old high school friends - friends I haven't seen since I was 17. 'You still act the same,” one of them said. 'Except you just have more opinions.”

I don't know if she was disappointed or relieved. I, too, thought they were the same, except with less anxiety and better clothes.

The lie of motherhood is that it is supposed to take you over, to consume you in a way that fatherhood never does. You hold the baby and boom, there is your halo and your eternal patience.

This Mother's Day, I witnessed a lot of backlash against the day. Women complaining that motherhood is complicated, that mothers are complicated. Not every mother is worth celebrating. Not every womb is sanctified and holy.

On the other side, I saw women say, there is no problem with celebrating mothers and motherhood. Give them a break already.

And maybe the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Motherhood is complicated and shouldn't be whitewashed, but there is also nothing wrong with celebrating it. Perhaps, the answer is that instead of smashing these mother idols or placing them on a pedestal, we just let them be human.

One of my favorite crime shows is 'The Killing,” a crime show where the lead detective is played by a woman, who maybe isn't the best mother. A friend of mine told me she couldn't stomach the show because of how terrible the mother is to her child. I listed all the shows with terrible fathers. 'You watch those,” I told her. 'That's different,” she said.

It's different only because fathers have room to be people in a way that mothers can't. If we fail, we are monsters. If we muddle through, we are saints. There is no room in our storyline for anything less than a halo.

Recently, my mom told me that it is harder to be a mother today, because women have to be more than mothers. 'You can't just be a mom anymore,” she said. 'But I am more than a mom,” I told her. 'I'm Lyz!”

I'm done waiting for my magical moment of motherhood bliss. I'm happier here in the human mess of my imperfections, the shrieks of my children, and the exhausting imbalance of it all. I'm happy to be celebrated as a mom. But I'm even more happy to be recognized as someone more - myself, just a bit fatter.

' Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.