One day I
woke up to find myself in a dry, foreign, and lonely land. Just as the early pioneers must have felt as
they trundled west in search of freedom and prosperity clinging to the promise
of creating the new life they had always dreamed of. The notion of those dreams being enough to
embolden them to leave family and friends, to trade the known and predictable
for the unknown and unpredictable, and journey hundreds, even thousands of
miles in search of this life. They
braved thieving outlaws, hostile Indians, and treacherous terrain….all fueled
by that dream. I am a mother and I now
find myself in this parched place but oddly, I am not in complete defeat and
despair. For on the horizon a glimmer of
hope crackles, like the lightning that dances in the clouds of a distant
thunderstorm.
The dream
began as a young girl, just as I suspect many other young girls dream.....to have children
and raise them into a family of friends.
Isn’t that what we all want? To be surrounded by those we love and that
love us. So after being married for five
years, my husband and I began to cultivate that dream of children to share our
life with. To show them the wonders of
Creation, share adventures, impart our little bit of knowledge, to leave a
legacy, and maybe receive a little joy and satisfaction from the intangible
blessings that come from sharing and sacrificial love. And so the journey into parenthood began and
along with it the research. I bought the
pregnant woman’s bible, What to Expect When You are Expecting and I
lived, breathed, and memorized it for the entire 9 months. I could not get enough, everyday reading
about my specific month of pregnancy, trying to get to know the life that was
growing inside of me. And when I had that one memorized and I could not squeeze
one more nugget of knowledge out of it, I bought 2 or 3 similar ones. At 15
weeks after conception, the baby is 4 inches and can sense light even though
her eyelids are still fused. At 24 weeks
she is the size of an ear of corn and can hear what’s going on outside the womb. I was trying to gain insight about who this
developing embryo was and what it needed to grow and gain. I assigned a personality and athletic feats
to my baby, as I imagined it performing Olympic level bar routines on my
ribs. How I loved the child that was
growing. I talked to it, played music
for it (because you know, music makes babies smart), I read to it. For nine months I was never alone, and everything
I did, I had the health and well-being of that child in my thoughts. And then the day arrived when I finally got
to meet this little person we had created, and that I had come to know as well
as I know my own body. I knew her kicks,
I knew when she didn’t like the supper we ate, I knew when she was content, and
now I would finally meet her and hold her in my arms and look her in the eyes and we
would love each other and someday, I hoped would be friends.
I am a mother and the me I was before, the me
I was as Paul’s wife, the me I was in my career had suddenly disappeared and I became
just Mom. That quickly, in the time it
took for my daughter to appear in the world, I went from all that I was before
to just “her mother”. The same happened
for each new baby I delivered and it was just as intense with my little Guatemalan
with whom I suffered the longest birth pains awaiting his papers to finalize;
and who was almost 6 and kind of big and awkward to swaddle and cuddle like a
little baby for the first time. And it
was good, I loved this new persona, this new career of Motherhood. It fit me and I could use all of my innate
talents of organization, time management, research skills, creativity, domestic
engineering abilities, all of it.
Somehow I lucked into the best career ever. I felt totally at home and right where I knew
I belonged. I even found myself puzzled
by other women who were struggling and felt they needed some creative outlet,
or to keep their career because the duties of motherhood did not fulfill them
completely. I’m not judging at all, but
for me, every aspect of motherhood, especially the baby, toddler, and childhood
years was more than fulfilling, exciting, and good. Even on the most boring of days when I found
myself reading the same story, or watching the same worn out kiddie video, or
sitting up all night with the croup was fine with me. I wouldn’t have traded it for a million
dollars.
So how do I
find myself in the parched land, if this is what I wanted? Well, the child grew up. Plain and simple, I have become obsolete,
last year’s model, and it seems, no longer relevant. I’ve lost my shine and I’ve gone from being
the first person she wanted to see to the last.
Oh I don’t blame her, she’s not a bad child, an ingrate (well maybe a little),
uncaring, no, she has just grown up. I
did my job and I did it well, so well, that now I’m almost completely out of a
job. Thankfully, I still have a few more
at home, but honestly they are young adults, and they can reason and make
decisions (most good), and they are independent and don’t really need me much
either, except maybe to drive them somewhere or give them money. It’s all due to the Trickle Down Effect. That scientific phenomena in which each
younger sibling becomes exponentially more independent than their
successor. Thankfully, I don’t have 15
children or I’d have to face the fact that the baby would not need me at
all. I wish I would have had a book to
prepare me for this point in the grand scheme. A book kind of like the one I studied so fiercely when I was pregnant, except I would call this one, What to Expect When You are Letting Go. If I had only known how painful the break would be I may have been able to prepare myself better. If I could’ve understood how quickly the years would fly…. it’s really not a cliché, it’s a fact….I could have maybe braced myself for it. Once I heard some wise older mother say to her daughter who was a young mother, “the days go slow, but the years fly”. She was so right and how does that happen? If I only had a book that explained, that as you are filling in your calendar in the day to day, raising them to be rockstars, jockstars, and docstars, you become so busy living in the future that you forget to notice the present if you are not careful, and then it has become the past. All those music lessons, sports teams, and science fairs, scout outings, family vacations somehow cause time to travel at warp speed and then it seems in the difference of one day you find yourself getting sticky kisses from a gooey faced toddler, to waving good bye to your college freshman.
I have found myself in the odd position of
what I imagine it feels to be fired. I
went into work one day with the best laid plans and I am handed a pink slip. “Thanks
for your services but no thanks”. I have
been escorted out of the building. But
wait, what did I do wrong? Can I fix
it? Is there severance package…maybe
they could blow me one last kiss????? A gold watch? Nope, out the door and farewell. But it’s not the end. It’s kind of like your worst nightmare, because
you’re fired, but they still call you when they have trouble. It’s like you don’t get any benefits, pay, or
the good stuff that came with the job, but you still get to take care of all the
problems that arose with the job. And
thanks to modern technology, they can text you 24 hours a day with all the
problems that you need to fix but strangely enough, they forget to tell you all
the great stuff, because they are so busy living life and having so much fun. And thanks to technology, you may be
fortunate enough to watch from afar through social media and learn of all the
fun and great things that are happening.
It’s not malicious on their part, it’s where they are in their development. They have just sprouted wings and are learning to fly and it’s an all-consuming effort. They don’t have children of their own, so they just don’t get it. They think their life is theirs alone and that they are where they are because of what they did. They don’t understand all the behind the scenes work and sacrifice that went into getting them to this point. It’s ok, it’s just the way it is. I don’t mean to sound bitter or even a little resentful. I’m not, I’m just learning to acclimate. I suppose I’m going through the stages of grief, and I may be spinning my wheels in denial a bit long, but it’s just the process. After all, I had 9 months to get to know and love her with my entire being, surely I deserve at least 9 months notice that I have to let go, maybe even more since I’ve devoted 18, no 20 years.
It’s not malicious on their part, it’s where they are in their development. They have just sprouted wings and are learning to fly and it’s an all-consuming effort. They don’t have children of their own, so they just don’t get it. They think their life is theirs alone and that they are where they are because of what they did. They don’t understand all the behind the scenes work and sacrifice that went into getting them to this point. It’s ok, it’s just the way it is. I don’t mean to sound bitter or even a little resentful. I’m not, I’m just learning to acclimate. I suppose I’m going through the stages of grief, and I may be spinning my wheels in denial a bit long, but it’s just the process. After all, I had 9 months to get to know and love her with my entire being, surely I deserve at least 9 months notice that I have to let go, maybe even more since I’ve devoted 18, no 20 years.
So what is
the hope that I have? Well, after being
curled in a ball in my closet with my chocolate stash and blankie for a few
weeks, I remembered I still have 3 more
teen spawns, I mean young adults at home that still need me, at least for a
while. But the greatest truth I realized is that I
can get to know me again. I am certainly
not the me I was before I got married, I barely remember that idealistic
headstrong girl. I’m not the me that
married and was married to Paul, my knight in shining armor as I recall, for 5
years because we’ve grown, changed, and his armor is a little tarnished...but
that’s a whole other blog for another day. I’m this new me, one with dents and dings, but
who is wiser and braver than ever before, because that’s what I’ve had to be
for my children all these years. And
that is the hope right there. I am not obsolete,
I’m not useless, I can offer a lot to those around me, because my children
raised me to be brave, wise, and selfless and I can face this new chapter with
confidence. I can be whatever and
whoever I want to be, just as I taught them about themselves. It’s a whole new world. The clouds are separating and the first rays
of sunlight are gleaming through.
The other day my oldest who is now a
sophomore in college, texted me out of the blue to say that she loved me and to tell me about her day, and then asked me about mine. It was as exhilarating to me as hearing her
say her first words and it gave me hope. I can see that I don't need to feel lonely or nostalgic
because I have a new friend, and we go back a long way.