Understanding and, perhaps, grief…

So I’ve been told that my blogging has been missed.  I’m tinged pink at the embarrassment about how good that makes me feel.  Is that wrong?

It’s good to be missed.

Ah.  So I’ve been debating blogging this issue.  It’s a tough one to express, but finally I feel ready to do it.  And maybe I’m just ready to sit down and write, finally, after all this time of working hard and studying lightly.

A week ago Sunday night I had an epiphany of sorts… one of those moments where reality opened itself up wide and welcomed me with big fat arms.  It was the kind of epiphany that causes big tears and made me aware of a gaping hole in my heart.  I realized that I am not where I either wanted to be or where I expected to be.  And no – this has nothing to do with work or school, at least not directly.

I have wanted to be a mother since I was small enough to understand the importance of it and what the role meant, at least to my short, limited perspective.  I never saw myself as being absent from my children’s lives, at least not when they were small yet here I am.  I am absent from their lives for the majority of their waking time.  I am missing out on so many things that I can’t allow myself to think on it too deeply or the pain gets overwhelming.

Believe me, I know the value of my supporting myfamily.  I know the value of having a job I truly enjoy and I appreciate the fact that I am using my mind, applying my education, and there is a great future opening up for me.  I am grateful for those blessings.

I am also happy, although not crazily so, for my studies.  I know I need this.  I think school is like breathing for me.  Sometimes it’s a pain, but it’s a necessity.

My children and my family are more than any of those things and I am missing out on so much.  I have periodically taken stock of what I am missing with Aidan and when I do, I feel that grief well up.  There is nothing I can do about it.  It doesn’t go away or fade or diminish in any way.  What I’m saying isn’t a comment about the rights of women or a generalization.  It’s not a “grass is greener” thing because I know how hard it is to be home with them full time (or rather, at this point I base it on the weekends because that’s all the experience I really have).

I had to go back to work when Aidan was 6 weeks old.  It makes me sick to think of it.

Even now, a week and a half into trying to allow the grief to happen and hoping that it’ll get easier… even now I’m still crying over it.

I am two people.  I’m the woman who loves to solve problems, who is taking off like a shooting star at work.

I am the mom who hates it that I can’t be with my children.  I’m not really raising them.  I’m a visitor.  And maybe that’s not true, at least not completely, but that’s how it feels.

Todd tells me that I’m being the best mom I can by supporting the family, otherwise we wouldn’t have a home or food or name your other necessity and I understand that.

It’s not the logic I am having a hard time with.  I do, truly, understand my role and I accept it, even if it’s sometimes difficult.  I am proud of the fact that I can do this for my family.  I’m proud of my accomplishments.

It’s just that sometimes, in moments of weakness, I feel that unhappiness…

This isn’t who I wanted to be.  But it is who I am.

Somehow I just need to find a way to accept it and be okay with it.

I might have to cry a few more tears along the way, though.


One thought on “Understanding and, perhaps, grief…

  1. I can’t fix this hurt, Sweetheart. I can’t kiss the sore place and make it feel better. All I can do is read about your pain and listen while you share your inner anguish.

    Love, much love from a fellow traveller.

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