Somewhere in the midst of meal-planning, switching the laundry, changing diapers, making whole humans, and sometimes gutting through the monotonous day after day that comes with Motherhood, I think I’ve lost my voice. There’s nothing left to say. I sit and I stare at a blank screen and I wonder, in this world of instant news, social media and information available to everyone- what is there for me to put out into the world? Who cares what I have to say?
I’ll be honest, the last two years have been such an extreme transition in my life that I have to acknowledge that it’s a little bit ok that I feel…lost. I became a stay-at-home mom shortly before my almost 12-year-old was born, and the last decade-plus was… busy. It was raising babies, toddlers, and big kids. It was daily rushes to clean bathrooms, prioritize eating a hot meal that wasn’t cold toddler leftovers, jumping from play dates to appointments, and mom meet-ups in the middle of the day; It’s all just a blur now. I can’t say that I ever really felt that I “hit my stride” with being the primary caregiver to three kids and subsequently balancing “my” needs- most of it was just survival until bedtime. I fully acknowledge the privilege I have experienced to be home with my children, and that it’s an experience many women long for, and I am so grateful for all of it, while acknowledging that it was just a whirlwind.
There were phases in which I would “find myself” a little bit, inklings of the woman that I was “before,” whether it was between kids, weaning, potty-training, there’d be this feeling of independence and a deep sigh that triggered a remembrance. It would all start over again with the next pregnancy, and I would, inevitably, slide back into the place of “just” a mom and wife. It is literally SO easy for me to put myself on the back burner, to close those doors at bedtime and mindlessly scroll because I’m just so dang burnt out.
And then, “finding time for myself” becomes another thing I have to do. Another tally in the guilt column that I never could have imagined even being a thing I’d have to intentionally prioritize? How did I get here? How could you let your identity be so caught up in your family? Am I just a glorified housekeeper? What happened to all your hopes and dreams? See, the pressure to do everything and BE everything to everyone, including myself, can feel paralyzing.
I never really thought about the “after.” The what will you DO with yourself when they are all in school all day? Truthfully, for a while, I just rested. I took hot showers, went for walks, read whole entire books, blasted music that wasn’t PG, I lunched with friends, I just took it slow. I just embraced the silence and the slow. Eventually, though, the silence and the monotony got to me. I think I had always assumed I’d work outside the home in some capacity, or I was in denial that there would ever be so much silence. For my family, a full- or even part-time job isn’t really in the cards. I have a special needs daughter, and her needs can change drastically very quickly, on top of frequent out-of-town travel for my husband.
In the end, I still feel set adrift. I know I contribute to my family in ways that aren’t quantifiable, and that I have been and done so much for these people I love, and the job isn’t done. But here I am, almost forty, done with babies and toddlers, somehow grieving the chaos. What will I BE when I “grow up?” What do the next ten years look like for me? Not Mom, Just Molly. When you have spent 12 years focusing so much on someone else, it’s so daunting to look at yourself and wonder. It’s been a long time since I sat and stared at a blank screen and wondered, really wondered, about my future.
