A Shapeshifter Kind of Year

I used to sometimes feel like I was floating in life. Not fully connected to anything or anyone. I guess it was a bit Buddhist. Attachments lead to suffering and all of that. But since becoming a mother, I find that I float no more. I feel tethered to a piece of my heart that no longer lives within my body. It is at the same time overwhelming and joyful, scary and mind-boggling. 

Shapeshifting

Some years are relative duplicates. Go to work, do a collection of fun things, experience some heartache, make a resolution or two, and repeat. This is of course if you are lucky, as given the state of the world right now, this mildly similar pattern of years lived in peace is the greatest gift. 

But then some years are metamorphic. Where you come out at the other end and everything looks completely different. 

I'd had no major changes for so many years, and then everything happened all at once. Moving from my apartment of 16 years, combining multiple households, having a baby, and dealing with some unexpected health bumps along the way. I feel like my nervous system is still in a bit of shock from it all. It really was disorienting at times, so much so that I often felt that I was outside of my life looking in.

But things are starting to settle into this new normal. And looking back, I'm really proud of how we've managed it all (even given our reliance on some beer/wine and burger/pizza vices). I walk through my new neighborhood and I feel at home for this phase of my life. There are lots of cracks in everything, but the light has filtered in and broken our lives open, making everything bigger and brighter. 

I remember Ian saying to me at dinner in the weeks before Ollie's arrival, "I think he's going to bring so much joy." And there is so much joy, mixed with healthy doses of anxiety and everything else. I have to pinch myself sometimes when I see a little tooth start to poke through Oliver's gums or when he screams with pterodactyl-sounding delight. When he sees me first thing in the morning and his face lights up with a smile so wide and sweet that I want to explode from warmth of emotion. There's not much better that I've experienced in this life. 

Baby Wisdom

I've learned so much from this feisty, curious, adorable, sweet little bundle of giggles and screams. 

Keep going.

Take a break.

Enjoy each moment.

Never give up.

Laugh often and much.

Embrace good and bad days.

Celebrate everything.

Enjoy the good,

Do EVERYTHING in your power to squash that devil, anxiety.

Assume everyone is doing their best. 

My Personal Hopes for the Year

Outside of world peace of course...

The Book. I'm going to try to ignore my embarrassment at putting myself out there and just do it. Self-publish. I will share the journey and ignore the hyper-critical voice in my head (and any that pop up in real life).

The Baby. Oh, I just want him to be so happy and healthy and to not fail as a mother. It's amazing how many times in a day you can feel like a total failure at this job. The stakes feel so high.

The Body. As mentioned, I've been living slightly outside my body these days, in an anxiety-inflated head, and a beer-bloated body. I'm not mad at myself for the things I've had to do to get through. But I need to be healthy for this little man, for myself and for this new little fam.  

But I'm also working on giving myself a bit of grace. Someone mentioned that it takes your organs about a year to shift back into place after pregnancy. Add to that shifting hormones with breastfeeding and your body going back to the status quo (which of course with women is never really so - change is a constant hormonal joy), and breaks must be given. Fierce self-compassion. It's the only way forward. 

So here's to getting through the things we get through with grace, humility, compassion, learning and pride. 

Happy New Year!