I am in so many different ways right now. I have been writing a page each day for ten days now. But now I am in bed with little Felix, and he is sleeping… if I get up to get my notebook I am rather sure that he will awaken and he just got to sleep so why not take the opportunity to actually write here, where it might be witnessed?
I love being a mother. Felix will be three months old in two days and I am so grateful that his little soul chose us to be his parents. He rolled over for the first time on his own today and I feel so proud! I’ve been watching him work on it for awhile and it is just such a sweet simple joy to see all that hard work pay off.
I was afraid I was going to be too selfish to be a good mother… that I would be unable to sacrifice my sleep, comfort, vices, etc. for this little one’s sake but that hasn’t been much of a challenge for me at all actually. I do spend more time on my phone than I would like but I do make an effort to only do so when he is sleeping or occupied with his toys for a few moments. I could be better though. I will be better.
I have made a few small promises to myself that I have managed to keep for a few weeks and it feels really good. I hope I can keep it going. Such simple little things like meditating for five minutes each day, doing ten minutes of yoga every day, and writing a page. They don’t add up to much time but right now with this new being here on earth with me I have a lot of time but not quite as much agency over how exactly it is spent. It feels paradoxical almost. It is important to me to spend time with Fee and ensure he doesn’t feel alone, or ignored, as I think I often did as a child. I know he is just a baby now but I also know that his experience of my attention now will shape his well being for a long time to come, so I am doing my best to be fully engaged and present with him as much as I can.
I feel lonely, though, too. Lonely for a community of women, which almost feels like a prehistoric longing, because we evolved in such a way that as a new mother I would have the benefit of sisters, aunties, friends, mother, grandmothers around me to help raise this child just as I helped to raise theirs. This doesn’t exist for me here… my family is several states away, and while I have friends here, I haven’t been as vulnerable or authentic with them as I would like to be able to be, so there is less of a sense of closeness than what I am craving.
I know I need to reach out. Ask for connection. Build the community I am seeking. Asking for help isn’t my strong suit. I’ve been working through this in therapy… we talked about how I can’t remember ever needing to ask for help as a child. I had a hard time thinking about what I may have even needed to ask for help with, which is absurd, because of course I came into this world as helpless as little Felix here is. I was conditioned to not ask for help before I can even remember existing.
That makes me feel sad, angry, and resolved to support my son in ways that I wasn’t supported. I know I won’t be a perfect parent but I want to try as much as possible to have my eyes wide open to my own past trauma and bags of Shit so I can refrain from saddling it all onto the next generation. This feels healing for me as well as terrifying, because it requires not just being conscious of my own behavior but also challenging the behavior of my family members toward Fee and holding boundaries for his sake.
Boundaries will set us free.
Last updated November 08, 2019