They say one of the most important things for woman to have are friends, a support system that understands us, that heal us, that laugh, cry and complains with us. But sometimes we lose our life supports, be it through a move, a marriage, a birth of a child, a change in a career or just paths that diverge with time. I believe all the contacts and friendships we make are for a reason, no matter how short or meaningless we may seem to think they are, or not think about them at all.
We met people all the time, mostly from work at this age and we form bonds through similarities or simple respect of each other. But for a woman with children she loses all grasp of those friendship when she becomes a stay at home mom. She not only loses a wage, a career path, but her identity. Even though she swore to herself she would never lose who she was it bound to happen with warmth of this loving little being cuddled inside her arm. Then she takes another vow to protect and fiercely protect this precious gift bestowed in her arms.
All the memories of her life before are forgotten, as the haze of bi-hourly feedings, sore nipples, and constant care of this helpless new creature needing her. Unlike any other relationship she was in before, the love was instant, over whelming and so sweet. This tiny little creature who gave you stretch marks, heartburn, hemorrhoids, and gigantic plugged up ducts came to control you like a puppet. You are only there for this new precious being, any reminisces of your life before this new being is long forgotten.
So your on your way to motherhood, the quiet suffering as you lose all sense of your self, as the body you once knew has long been gone replaced with this big flabby, bumpy, swollen thing that gives life to this amazing being. So you lose friends, and if your lucky you aren't hit with post- pardum depression, and yet even as exhausted. It's all profoundly new and there are times of frustration and tears but still you keep it together enough to get that precious new being to be fed, bathed, clothed and diapered.
You feel so alone and even when you connect with friends with kids or new moms it still feels so alone. You feel like you are the only woman in the world to feel the lack of sleep, the crazy moments of weeping as the hormones change. You feel your world become hazier and hazier and you don't remember the days when you felt energized and awake. It seems like you never knew another life without sore, swollen boobs, diaper changes and spit up. But the sweet, angelic smile of your new being eases the pain, numbs the soul, as you slowly slip away.
Fast forward a few years and now your a full fledged mom, bigger literally and figuratively speaking. The former life before baby seems so far ago and you can't believe it actually was your own. Dance and stay out all night, drink and eat anything without worrying about getting it into the breast milk or to sleep in. So you try not to think about those days so wistfully, and convince yourself you are better, bigger, happier as your role as mom.
But deep inside you slowly die, motherhood kicks in and you know you want to do better than your own parents but unlike them you are bombarded with so much information. Too much structure,not enough, too much attention, not enough, no matter what you do you are guaranteed to screw up your kids. Then all the demons from your past come out, you are doing the things you swore you would never do with your kids, you are becoming your parent or worse you do not know how to parent, but your children have all run of your house because you are too afraid to discipline because you want to be their friend.
You become a angry because you are lost, you have given yourself completely to the point that there is nothing left to give. There is only a shell of your former self but you guilt yourself to do better, after all to be a mother is to be a martyr. Your laughter and smiles are lost replaced by frowns and screams. The wall of guilt grows higher and higher and we are forced to punish ourselves even more. After all we are our worst critics and we know we are crazy, we are the worst moms out there and that's all we are.
We have no self confidence, we cant wait until the kids go to school yet we are scared because can we go back to our former selves? Can we even get a job let alone a career? You know you can't stay at home once the kids are at school, a tiny part of you deep inside wants that desire and spark to be more. But you are so scared, you know logically you can go back but that still doesn't change the self doubt. Being a mother has strengthened you in ways you never thought possible, looking at poop and changing it without gagging, picking boogers with your bare hands, wiping up vomit without wanting to purge yourself but yet you are afraid.
Your life consists of reading the news online, then blogs and then one day you find yourself reading about other moms who actually had similar moments like you, even questioning their own sanity. They aren't stating motherhood isn't a bunch of bubbles, butterflies and rainbows but it sucks sometimes...ok a lot of the times. So the first time in a long time you feel a connection, you even have to look around because you are laughing out loud, feeling giddy and even good. Your newly acquired addiction has started and you log on daily, even in the middle of the night when you can't sleep.
You connect with these people you don't know, yet you feel their pain, disappointment and frustrations because they are like your own. You are finally able to relate you are not the only one in the world, that there are many like you out there and they are expressing themselves, baring their souls. So this motivates you to do the same, you start your own blog. You pick a anonymous name, something that can portray what you are feeling and you start writing. You keep reading others blogs, find inspiration to deal with your own demons. And then you do it, you reach out via a email or a comment because something has moved you enough. You are scared yet you feel the overwhelming pull to connect with this person, this person whom you seem to care so deeply about. A faceless person you haven't met but want to know because they are you. They convey the same feelings and thoughts you yourself have felt so many times before and you don't want them to feel that way. So in ways as you reach out to them you are reaching out to yourself.
Blogging friends are special and dear because we aren't forced to befriend them, we aren't obligated to respond if we don't want too, we choose to accept them when we are ready. This is to my new blogging friend Kia, thank you for reaching out and giving me this opportunity for our friendship.
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