Worry. We are all guilty as charged. Some of us worse than others. Some of us hide it better than others. But it's there. It's part of everyone's life.
There is though, a special kind of worry that comes with motherhood. Actually, I'm fairly convinced that it's some genetic mutation that occurs upon conception. Something about sperm meets egg also sets off a worry gene that knows no limitations on the scale.....and that never seems to change.
I had my first major round of my new found mama worry when I was pregnant with the Princess. What most people don't know is that at 16 weeks into my pregnancy, I had a placental abruption. It was terrifying. The moment I saw the blood, I threw up. For the last four months I had loved and cherished with an abandon I had never felt before, this new little life I was growing inside me. From the first ultrasound where her father dubbed her a "grain of rice with a heartbeat" I was in love. I was more than in love. I was her mom. And as each day passed (and really each hour, at times even each minute) that she hung in there for me, I grew more and more fiercely protective. But when the worry really smacked me in the face was at our next ob/gyn appointment. I remember her dad asking the doctor when we could relax and know that she was going to be ok as we dealt with the abruption. His answer...."when you're holding her in your arms. But that's when a whole new set of worries begin." It was as if my innocence was lost as hers was growing inside of me as I faced an entire universe of what if's that could tear my precious baby away from me.
Somehow, and thankfully so, there seems to also be a coping mechanism you gain that combats the irrational fear that lurks behind every corner and allows you to move forward with a sense of normalcy as you stave off what could become crippling fear. As the days passed and my relief grew that my little bean was staying put in Hotel Mommy (so much so that she overstayed her welcome by a grueling two weeks.....but that's another story) I was able to move on to the much more intangible and mundane worry of the average set.
You see, the decision to leave my marriage wasn't easy. Even though the writing was on the wall for a long time prior....there were two little people who were unconsenting passengers on the train ride. Every decision I made had not just an impact on me, and my ex.....but what feels like a lifetime impact on the Princess and the Pirate. Growing up in a family that most closely resembled the Waltons, I had in my head a very strong picture of what my family would look like. We were going to be nuclear. Mommy, Daddy, 2 kids, dogs, and a white picket fence.....we would spend Sundays as a family delighting in exploring nature, and farm life, and picnics, and long walks.....well....you get the picture. I spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I could do it - that I could stick it out for the 'sake of the children'. I wanted desperately for them to have the same storybook childhood I did. I still see a Mom and a Dad who love each other dearly after 40 years of marriage. They hold hands. They cherish each other. They are truly partners in life in every sense of the word. When I was separating from my husband I spent a lot of time staying with my parents. One night, my Dad was making dinner in the kitchen while my mom was also working in there at the same time. At one point they bumped into each other in front of the kitchen sink. She said something to the effect of she would get out of his way....and he looked at her and said "Dear, you've never been in my way a day in your life." I will never forget that moment as long as I live. I think I cried for over an hour that night after hearing such little words that held so much weight. That was the love I was after. That was what I needed to have. That was nothing close to what I had in front of me.....and it didn't take rocket science to see that it wasn't ever going to be.
As you go through a major life change I find that the people you need to be there, are there, if you open yourself up. I really struggled with this notion of splitting up the family. I wanted my kids to have a whole family. A Mommy and a Daddy who lived in the same house in domestic bliss....or even a reasonable facsimile. There were two pivotal pieces of advice I got from two separate friends that I hold very dear to my heart. The first was a blunt statement from one of my favorite people. She simply said, "My parents stayed together for the sake of the kids. They shouldn't have." The other from an equally dear friend was after my musing again about splitting up the nuclear family (dear god, I still haven't figured out my fascination with that) and she said, "don't you want your daughter to see that you can provide happiness for yourself. She would want that for her Mom"
So....we all know the ending to the story. And of course, with that cropped up a whole new set of things to worry about. Children of divorce. Broken home. (And after I came out so late in life....well that cropped even more worry into the mix.) Those are such ugly words. And I spent a lot of time worrying about the stigma that comes with them. I work full time....I run a household alone....I'm the primary custody parent to the kids.....it's a plateful.....and I don't spend as much time just hanging with my kids as I'd like. In fact, I don't spend as much time with my kids as I'd like period. There are constant reminders of it everywhere. The day the Princess was singing the theme song to a TV show I wasn't aware she'd even seen.....the day on the ride home when she gleefully told me babies come from vaginas (followed by maniacal laughter....oh yeah, that one was a doozy).....when she told me a knock-knock joke (or a close approximation to what I assume was a knock-knock joke because it contained the words knock-knock what felt like a few hundred times).....or any of the other little reminders that it is actually a village that is raising my children (thanks Hilary) and not just me. Every time these things happen it's a little knife in the heart that I've missed that discovery in her life. I wasn't there to share that magical moment of newness she stumbled across. I missed it.
I hope in my heart with every fibre of my being that the lessons I'm teaching them are enough. That even though I won't always be there for the little day to day discoveries, I can shape the big ideas in their lives. That they'll see that hard work pays off. That it's okay to find happiness for yourself even if it's not conventional. That if you're not getting what you need in life, that only you can make the changes that take you on a path to where what you need is. That you are responsible for you. That please and thank you are two of the most important words going. That Mommy is only one person but she loves you with everything in her existence and would move mountains to make you happy (and after the sheer volume of firewood I've hauled this winter I may actually be close).....and that teaching them to be strong, capable, confident, and self sufficient are the biggest gifts I can bestow upon their little lives.
This afternoon, after returning to the living room from about 4.8 seconds (yes, I can actually pee that fast....one of the other skills of motherhood not widely discussed) of absence to find the Princess in a precarious mid scale of the baby gate around the woodstove using a complex two step stool invention she had concocted to rescue the Pirate's blue elephant that had either been dropped or 'lovingly' placed there by the Princess (jury is still out on that one), like any mother "Get down!" came reflexively barking out of my mouth.
The immediate response as her mission continued for another second until I could physically intervene...."But mo-om.....I'm a superhero!!"
oh yes. I think the kids are definitely alright :)
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