"Wait. I'm confused" (one of my trademark phrases)
This has always been what I loved. I love the cuddly hold-me-while-I-sleep stage.
However, I had a shock last week. As I watched R's mum holding him and cuddling, I suddenly lost all desire to have kids. My lifelong goal obliterated in a tender moment. All the diapers, the crying, wiping noses, sweat and tired muscles. . .none of it phased me. But a mama interacting with her baby, and I wanted none of it.
Of course later Wednesday night, I was so happy to have Baby sleeping in my arms on the plane--and again on Friday, I loved holding him and rocking till we both fell asleep. But I am still left with a vague aversion to having my own children.
Possibly for selfish reasons--
I like my freedom.
I like having my alone time.
I like that my lap is empty at night,
I like that my breasts are mine--
That my shoulder is not as a pillow;
my arms not a cradle.
At times, I have so desperately wanted to be a mother. At other times, I wanted it, but was content to wait.
What a strange, strange thing to have normalcy leave me. Even if just for a minute.
At the moment I am ambivalent. Life is so distant to me right now. Obviously, I am living, and I participate as well, but I feel as if I am stopped at a fork in the road, trying to make my mind up, which seat am I gonna take? (sorry if it's stuck in your head). Even so, excluding lack of appropriate circumstances, I am not sure about kids. Eleven years of babies galore, and I finally hit that point. Does this mean a burnout is approaching as well?
Feelings are so dang confusing. I hate 'em sometimes!
PS. The last pic is a California winter, if you were wondering.
This has always been what I loved. I love the cuddly hold-me-while-I-sleep stage.
 |
| E-man. Love this little guy. Smartest kid I know |
 |
| T. Didn't see him many times before I moved back. |
 |
| R. The one I currently watch. |
 |
| Y my cousin. a few months before I went to CO. |
playing with his soft hair,
kissing his cheeks and forehead,
caressing the contours of his face,
rubbing his back,
watching his back rise and fall,
hearing each breath. . .
I love it all.
Of course later Wednesday night, I was so happy to have Baby sleeping in my arms on the plane--and again on Friday, I loved holding him and rocking till we both fell asleep. But I am still left with a vague aversion to having my own children.
Possibly for selfish reasons--
I like my freedom.
I like having my alone time.
I like that my lap is empty at night,
I like that my breasts are mine--
That my shoulder is not as a pillow;
my arms not a cradle.
At times, I have so desperately wanted to be a mother. At other times, I wanted it, but was content to wait.
What a strange, strange thing to have normalcy leave me. Even if just for a minute.
At the moment I am ambivalent. Life is so distant to me right now. Obviously, I am living, and I participate as well, but I feel as if I am stopped at a fork in the road, trying to make my mind up, which seat am I gonna take? (sorry if it's stuck in your head). Even so, excluding lack of appropriate circumstances, I am not sure about kids. Eleven years of babies galore, and I finally hit that point. Does this mean a burnout is approaching as well?
Feelings are so dang confusing. I hate 'em sometimes!
PS. The last pic is a California winter, if you were wondering.
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