A journal, a lesson, a gift

A few days ago I found the journal a friend gave me when Liam was born. It started out as the "log journal", the place where a new mom frantically logs every action of her precious babe in an effort to validate her crazed attempts at making sure she is doing everything "right". Early entries read something like 10:15- 20 min right side and 10:30 dirty/wet. However, skipping ahead a few pages I found evidence that those early logs were just the beginning stages of my desperate need to control things and further desperation of my seemingly failure to do so. There was a darkness that loomed in those pages, a reminder of the deep cave I found myself in while trying to hold on to an illusion of what I thought motherhood should be and who I should be in response to that. I did find some validation as well, though not necessarily in the incessant logging, but in the struggles I overcame and the rewards that come from living through difficult times. I seemed to have learned from some of my perceived mistakes.

The entry that struck a cord with me was one I wrote a little over a year ago following a coffee date with my dear friend, Steph, who at the time recognized I had been falling slowly into a very scary place. Our conversation inspired a previous post which you could read here, if you choose. One of the things she said to me was "forgive yourself, you will never be the mother you thought you would be, but allow yourself to be the mother you are so you can channel the best of who she is." This resonated so much with my experience at the time and continues to ring true as my experience changes. I have been thinking a lot about birth lately and the transformation that takes place for women during that sacred time. When a child is born, so is his mother, be it a first or fifth birth. With that birth, however, comes the death of the woman you were before necessitating a grieving process for the loss. I have said before that I am certainly not the woman I was before I became a mom but in so many ways, my life is richer and more fulfilling. It is the attachment to previous expectations and desires that has created suffering for me. Giving yourself permission to be who you are and grieving the loss of who you were can be a powerful gift. Life's journey is not a linear one, enjoy the unexpected curves.