Comic Relief: Motherhood Academy Style

MOTHERHOOD: ACADEMY STYLE
by Cortney Murphy (USAFA, 2002)

I have become a cadet again, a space cadet that is. Over the last five whirlwind months of new motherhood, it’s been on more than one occasion that I’ve discovered a striking resemblance of my current life to that of life as a cadet. I got fat, I got skinny. I live with all men. I eat all meals in five minutes or less … often at attention (the attention being on the baby). Oh yeah, did I mention, I am always on parade? (Our parents visit often … they’re great ... really!)

Application

It all started out with a plan. Just as I once sat with my parents having a discussion about attending the Academy, I found myself sitting with my husband Barry talking about having a baby. Similar questions were involved for both discussions. Were we ready? How would we deal if it happened right away? Could it even happen? Would we like our new roommate? Oh how we longed for the pitter patter down the hallway on Saturday mornings (much like taps down the Vandy hall dorm during a SAMI (Saturday AM Inspection) … but somehow not quite)!

Acceptance

It was in January of my senior year of high school that a stately package arrived in the mail. So formal, so crisp and clean … little did I know that more than one life-changing event would announce itself in a small package! It was ten years later when I purchased a home pregnancy test and soon Barry and I were hovering over a big blue plus sign … so crisp and clean (in part due to the fact that we refused to touch it). I was pregnant! We were going to have a baby! Pure happiness washed over us and we held each other tight (I deliberately left out that this momentous occasion occurred in a Kunsan, Korea dormitory bathroom … thankfully now forever burned into my memory)!

Orientation

I wanted to know what USAFA was going to be like, so I headed off to orientation the day after prom. “It’s not that bad,” I thought, “I’ll adjust just fine.” Little did I know recognition was over already. As with the Academy, Barry and I took a trial run on parenthood by babysitting for friends. One day in the life of a cadet proved to be about as valuable as one night in the life of a parent. Life was perfect (except for the fact that there were men walking around in the hallway as I went to the bathroom in my robe … I still am not over that!).

BCT (Basic Cadet Training)

I painstakingly packed my backpack with all of the “required items”: sports bras and undies, boots nicely broken in. It wasn’t much different as I prepped for the hospital: pajamas and itty bitty clothes, this time with pink fuzzy slippers. I soon found out that hospital issued gowns were about as attractive as female uniforms. Jodies turned into nursery rhymes, push-ups into nagging nausea, and Mitch’s dining hall food into bland cheese quesadillas (the only thing that always stayed down, along with those great Kashi bars). The first trimester was a doozy for me. Nausea tempered my overwhelming joy for the peanut in my belly. Lucky for me, I knew it was a temporary situation and I took it a day at a time.

Four Degree Year (Freshman Year)

Counting down the days to recognition was much like counting down the weeks to delivery (minus the spirit mission to wake up group staff basic style). Although the rest of my pregnancy was smooth, it felt like it was taking forever. Each day passed by with deliberate hesitation. I started outgrowing my clothes (sadly, quite the same as my Doolie (freshman) year) and even outgrew my watch! Not knowing, Barry poked fun at my new hot pink plastic one (the cheapest one at the BX) … if looks could kill. Along with an expanding waistline, I had increased my knowledge on the subject. I poured over the contrails of pregnancy and childbirth (“What to Expect When You’re Expecting” … as if you didn’t know!) preparing for the biggest day of our lives. Knowledge bowl practice consisted of quizzing Barry on the latest natural childbirth methods (he could have easily been an ace by the end of it—oh I’m such a geek).

Recognition

The day started out as any other. Within 24 hours upperclassmen would call me by name just as our new little boy would hear his name for the first time. We (note: now-a-days we use “we” in pregnancy, as in “we” are pregnant … even though no husband ever wishes to be pregnant) opted to labor mostly at home (imagine if that was an option for recognition, hah) and made it to the hospital with two hours to spare. “The Mother” (so aptly named) became my position of choice for the final streeeetch. Willingly putting yourself through (at times excruciating) pain to get to a desired end … it’s all the same, really! And after all of this, you get a fantastically unattractive snapshot to capture the moment: sweat, burst capillaries, and running mascara (okay we didn’t have that during recognition).

The moment was quiet. After nine months I brushed my fingers over my lapel to feel the prop and wings. It was real. I was speechless. All that work for such a tiny prize. I held little Jack in my arms, tears streaming shamelessly. I inspected his beautiful face, his eyes studying mine. He was real! We were speechless. A life of “I love you’s” was just beginning.

Cortney graduated from the United States Air Force Academy in 2002 and was a Communications Officer while on active duty. Currently, Cortney is a stay-at-home mom and lives in Phoenix with her husband, Barry, and their baby boy, Jack. Cortney can be contacted at barryandcortmurphy@gmail.com.