Motherhood is the greatest contrast. It ties itself to us then pulls at us from all angles. I picture myself with ropes tied to my arms and legs and each side of the rope is being pulled from opposite sides. So I find myself precariously balanced and deeply stretched.
Here’s what I mean. Pregnancy was one of the most incredible experiences of my life, maybe the most incredible. I was growing a life inside of me. It was so much crazier than I thought it would be, feeling a human grow and move around inside me. The whole experience was profound, I mean that literally, it was one of those experiences that makes one believe in God.
It’s also hard though. My body was on loan for a year. I couldn’t drink too much, or eat certain things, or take hot baths, or go for long runs. I became fragile. I felt tired and hungry all of the time. I was in a constant state of needing to pee for a year straight. Everything started getting soft and saggy except my rock hard belly, which is the cruelest contrast to the deflated balloon it would become.
It was difficult. It was worth it.
Then of course labor has to produce these crazy happy hormones because otherwise our population rate would perpetually be on the decline - one and done. Our body’s get ripped open but it’s such an incredible experience. Or something. So we do it again.
Now I feel this bizarre mix of being exhausted and super bored. When they’re little the days are kind of mundane, and yet constantly moving. My mind is restless and tired.
I have one of the deepest attachments of my life with Colette and yet I’m sort of lonely. I found the greatest fulfillment of my identity and somehow feel emptied out, like I lost myself a little bit. I’ve found life long purpose and yet I feel like I’ve lost a sense of direction. I want to be close to her constantly, but I need space too. Life got quieter and slower but really it’s noisy and busy, just differently. I’m excited for her to grow up and I beg her daily to never change.
The absolute best things that’s ever happened to me. The absolute hardest thing I’ve ever done.
It’s set up like this so we go crazy. It’s like some weird sexist law of creation. Does all of life have such opposing elements, or am I right that becoming a mom is particularly so? It’s two sides of the same coin, or a double-edged sword, or more contrast analogies.
I'm still figuring this whole thing out.
So, I’ll leave you with this – I put soup on a plate yesterday.