I’ve been a mom for over seven years now.
There are many things I have cherished. (A preschooler running into my arms after class, a child confidently reading to me during our nighttime snuggles, being the one to make owies go away.)
There are a few things I’ve learned. (A good poop joke will end almost any meltdown. Tired children are wired children.)
But I’ve also learned that there are some hard parts. And for me, one of the hardest parts is staying open.
I’m not really one to withdraw or go inside myself. But sometimes the quantity of questions and demands and needs can make me feel like I’m being invaded, like my sanity is being picked apart.
There are times when I can’t find a reprieve. When I can’t go and fill up my own bucket. When I simply don’t have the reserves, or quite honestly, the strenght to stand up to all these needs and demands and stay emotionally open and connected.
I’ll feel myself start to disconnect, start to emotionally hide, start to shut down, and I won’t be able to stop it.
And this sickens me. Because children need food and shelter and protection, but more than even any of that, they need love and compassion and openness.
But to give them that openness, we have to give them our vulnerability. Just like we sacrifice sleep and comfort at times, we need to sacrifice peace and psychological safety at other times.
And try as I may, today I just don’t have it in me.
They’ll survive. We’ll reconnect. But in the meantime, I can’t help to feel that when I disengage, I leave them emotionally out at sea. Struggling by themselves.
Sure, it will teach them to swim. But they are babies, and for as long as possible, I want to be their raft.
I hear you. I would prefer to stay open to my girl, too – but sometimes I’m not able to. In the end, we teach them that if we disengage, we also return – and we teach them how to find their ways back, too. Be gentle with yourself, Mama. We are – as they are – only human.