Every birth represents a death to something else and, in this case, the birth of your child brings about the death of the selfish freedoms you have always known (and perhaps took for granted).
In the initial months of motherhood, I felt like I had been dropped into the arms of the greatest love story of my life, yet I was grieving. I ached for a glimpse of myself. I missed lounging in bed with a book in my hand, and soaking in long, bubbly baths, and sleeping in late — waking to stare at the ceiling fan while lost in the wandering of my own thoughts.
Don't be surprised if you find yourself feeling absent from your own life — yes, you're crawling into the same bed and using the same toilet, but moving through air that feels foreign and strange. The beautiful news is that the disorientation does not last forever, and you will soon relax into a more refined and resilient version of yourself.