Moving Forward, Counterclockwise | get born

I have a vivid memory of riding in a car with my friend Meghan when I was about eight weeks pregnant with my first son.? We drove through the frozen woods of Maine in January, up and down the winding road that led us to our creative writing workshops.? ?I?ll never be one of those parents who??? I started out.

?One of those parents who??? The phrase that every non-parent has spoken before actually having children, right?? One of those parents who does that thing that I am far above/beyond/too good for.? A statement that never ends with ??tries as hard as she can to do her best by her kids.?? Nope, I was never going to be one of those parents who ??let their lives revolve around their kids.?

I don?t remember the details of what happened next in the conversation.? More blathering on about how I would continue to travel because it?s not unhealthy for kids to stay home with grandparents for a few days. ?Or I would take them with me to exotic places, where they would behave and gain global awareness while playing quietly on a beach so I could sunbathe.? I would not lose myself in my children and would continue to build up my creative, wordsmith side, too.? I would be writer first, all-consumed mother second.

And I believed it.? With all my heart, I believed it.? The words weren?t merely said to fit in with my close-knit group of brilliant writers all advancing their writing careers between the lines of teaching and bartending and college admin.? I would be a writer with kids rather than a mother who snuck in a tiny bit of time to write if she could keep her eyes open.? I would prioritize the stories that needed to speak through me.

Meghan, I?m sure, agreed.? Neither of us could really imagine a life like those parents we both knew who turned their lives inside out for their babies and then readjusted to make the new perspective permanent.? Those poor, poor people.? We knew better.

And then, as with so many other myths I sold my self before having kids, I found this one to be a victim of post-baby reality.? At first, I didn?t care.? Completely enamored with my firstborn, I eagerly gave up my time, my writing, my aspirations of exotic travel.? I could not imagine even wanting to leave N behind while I experienced new things!?? I was Mother, and adored the new perspective on my life.? Having a child was the purpose I?d simply been waiting to discover.? The second N was in my arms, I became ?one of those parents.?? I pitied my former self for being so blind to the love I would feel for my child.

I wish I could claim the process of self denial ended there, in blissful ignorance of what I might have done.? But slowly I found ? find ? myself suffocating under the weight of things I?m denying.? The words never set free on paper because I?m too tired of being needed all day.? The vacation tickets never purchased because I?m too tapped out paying for preschool and educational toys. ??The meditation I don?t take time out for because I?m too busy, too nervous, too angry after days of discipline attempts failing against the manipulation of a three-year-old.

So, I find myself searching for ways to rotate my live a few degrees back to that woman who didn?t want to give it all up for her kids.? How to find my way back to the winding Maine road in the quiet winter of creative space.? How to love my kids while loving myself in the ways I still need to be loved.? A stay at home mom whose identity doesn?t end there, and who is able to be fully present for each day with her kids because there are no gaping holes in the membrane of her own desires.? This hope can?t be just another myth I?m selling, can it?

Source: http://getbornmag.com/2012/03/moving-forward-counterclockwise/

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