Wednesday Wonder: What It Feels Like a Mom
Motherhood, a dance of second-guessing, pain, joy, pleasure, and heartache, comes with an indescribable loneliness and ache. The weight of the world, the love for my child – it's an inexplicable joy that’s even harder to navigate.
-Beth Anne Johnson
As I waited in the serene blue Zoom room, thoughts swirled - did the incredible Rachel Accurso, aka Mrs. Rachel on YouTube, feel the same isolation seeking early intervention for her late-talking son? This is my second meeting with child intervention services in just three months – the first, a no-go; the second, initiated by school concerns.
Casting my mind back a year and a half, I ponder the choices that brought me here. The perennial dilemma of whether my son, with a late summer birthday, should be the youngest or oldest in class weighed heavily. Regrettably, I let the director's viewpoint guide me, and now, I grapple with the consequences.
Here's the raw truth: my son is brilliant, a late talker, and at the time of writing this, I'm 22 weeks pregnant with baby number two. Last week, I bid farewell to my 16-year-old cat and conquered my glucose tests, all on the same emotionally charged day. Life unfolds for me on borrowed time and exhaust fumes, haunted by the relentless fear of missing out – a stark contrast to my first pregnancy.
In the virtual interview, Kathryn, sharing my sister's name, emanates genuine empathy through the Zoom screen. I take a deep breath and confess my struggle - torn between intervention and contemplating a school change. Reading the cold, empathy-lacking message from the program triggers self-doubt, questioning my worth as a mother juggling career and childcare. Kathryn reassures me, "I'm here to support you and completely understand your concerns." Tears flow, and unboxed maternity clothes become an unexpected solution in my makeshift absence of tissues. I choose the black skirt to still the small streams escaping my tired, puffy eyes.
Motherhood, I envisioned as a seamless journey of newborn cuddles, giggles, and sleepless nights, now involves condemning speech pathology evaluations and unwarranted critiques. I've navigated hurtful conversations, realizing I was on the receiving end of someone else’s burnout. As a new mom, I didn't recognize it until the slap, but now, I'm armed with an agenda and recorder for each of my meetings.
Motherhood, a dance of second-guessing, pain, joy, pleasure, and heartache, comes with an indescribable loneliness and ache. The weight of the world, the love for my child – it's an inexplicable joy that’s even harder to navigate. But, amidst this complex symphony of emotions, I find solace in the realization that, as mothers, we share a common experience. The moms may not be all right, but we are a community—moms of the highly sensitive need each other more than ever.
To all the lonely moms, your journey is not solitary, and the feelings surrounding you today may not linger tomorrow. I’ve written and re-written this piece many times because while the pain has changed, the pain is still there. For me, processing is in the writing, so if you are reading, you are a treasured friend. Thanks for holding space for me. Therefore, let’s hold space for one another.
Let's remind each other that we are a community bound by love. Regardless of our needs, we are not alone. Here's to the resilient spirit of motherhood! 🌸💕
#MotherhoodJourney #CommunityOfLove #Wednesday
