I have this vivid memory from shortly after Harlan was born of me holding her in my arms, my hair disheveled from the labor and delivery, tired as hell from being up all night, overwhelmed with the amount of information that the nurses were telling me, yet I had this overwhelming sense of calmness over me. I was in love. This all-consuming and unexplainable love for another human being that I had a part in creating.
I was the first out of all of my friends to have a child. Not only that, but I was also the first to get married as well.The marriage didn’t affect my life as much as having a child did. As much as I’d talked to them, as much as they tried to lend a hand to help, I never realized I’d officially entered a world that they were no longer a part of. I’d stepped onto this path that made me think no longer of myself, but for someone else.
While I stayed home on the weekends taking care of my new family, my friends were traveling to football games, going out to dinners together, taking vacations.
I felt completely suffocated with love
yet very alone at the same time.
When I went back to work, I craved the conversation with other adults. I was so sad to leave Harlan day after day, but I needed that time for me when my head was 100% in baby mode. I wanted to be able to vent to others that understood where I was coming from or dish about mindless reality television.
Even more than six years later, I find it hard to really establish friendships with others. My days are spent taking the kids to and from school, to doctor appointments, soccer practice, grocery shopping, and at night once everyone is sleeping, I work. There’s little time for establishing relationships with other women. And with the friends that I do have, many live far away. While a phone call or texting is great, I so love the face time of going out to dinners or just grabbing coffee together.
To be honest, I haven’t put myself out there much, so I really shouldn’t be expecting anything in return. But this feeling of heart exploding love yet still being alone is hard to shake off.
A couple of weeks ago many of the moms at Avery’s preschool decided to get together for drinks after we put the kids together. While I don’t know many of the moms at Avery’s school, it was so nice to get to know them. I’ll admit that 99% of the conversation was about our kids, but it was having those conversations with someone other than my husband, felt refreshing.
When I entered on this journey of motherhood I knew that there were sacrifices that I’d have to make. And while most of them taught me the true meaning of being selflessness, I’ve also learned what loneliness feels like too.
