Not long ago, I wrote that my heart will never be done having babies because the truth is, with every inch grown and skill mastered that brings my kids one step closer to independence, I ache a little.
Or actually, a lot.
I suppose it’s to be expected. Motherhood is, after all, a front-loaded gig. From the moment I brought my precious babies home, I was in awe of how much of myself was required to do the job right. I gave every ounce of my heart to these perfect humans until they became as necessary to my survival as the air I breathe.
And it worked.
All that hard work and caring, worked. And it was good. It was good for a good long while until my kids reached a certain age, and it just wasn’t anymore. Without warning or instruction, I, like every mom, found myself towing the blurred line between being there and standing back.
And it felt pretty empty. How does one go from Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! to I got this, Mom without feeling any other way?
I found myself wondering what I was supposed to do with all this untapped love and energy. Should I have another baby? I’ve heard that works, but I ended up with a dog. And I don’t even really like dogs. [Read more…]