I don’t know when it began. I imagine it must’ve started shortly after I became a mom. I loved being a mom, nurturing and providing for a life that was completely and utterly dependent on me. It was hard, but it was rewarding. I felt blessed to have a child to call my own. But slowly, without me knowing it, the days and the weeks and the months began to blend together, and I didn’t really see the end. Everyday, or pretty much everyday began to look and feel the same. The duties of mom were tireless and endless. I started to look forward to the days when my child would be older (and less dependent), and my life would look different.
Then, another child came along. My second son was born almost 8 weeks premature, and he stayed in the NICU for almost as long. I was grateful that he had “caught up” to his age and healthy, and I dove into mothering, again tired, but determined. And then, after two and a half years, another child, this time a daughter, was born to us. I loved being a mom to a little precious girl. She was more beautiful than I could have imagined. My heart was full. But, something was amiss.
I think this was almost 4 years, or perhaps longer, in the making. I am a blessed and busy wife and mother of three. But somewhere, in the midst of all this hectic life of feeding, diaper changing and middle of the night wakings, life became dormant. Or rather, I became dormant. It was hard to see beyond the diaper changes, even as I, all too frequently, looked beyond those days.
But tonight, as I dared to finally fold and put away the clean laundry that’s been sitting in the laundry basket for weeks with some music playing in the background, I felt something stir within me. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt awakened to the realization that I might have been sleeping my days away (not literally, because moms of newborns rarely get much sleep). Life was passing me by. And maybe, it’s because I believed that life sets a certain course of trajectory, and you follow it, such as being a wife, then being a mom, but I might have accepted this all too plainly and without any intentionality. I want this to stop. I need this to stop. I want to dream and dare and achieve, and ultimately make a difference. And maybe in my tired delirium I just got too worked up by a song, and life will try to suck me back into the drudgery of a stay-at-home-mom. But I don’t want this feeling and thought of awakening to end tonight when I close my eyes. I will try, no I will be different tomorrow.
So stay tuned.