thoughts on mothering

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

i'm almost certain that charles dickens did not write this quote from The Tale of Two Cities in reference to parenting, or even more specifically to mothering. that being said, for me, it encapsulates so much of my experience in these short few months so far. you can see from the dichotomy of comparison (best/worst, light/darkness, wisdom/foolishness, everything/nothing) that mothering is like nothing you'll ever experience. there i go again... comparing. mothering is like nothing i have experienced. dickens even explains why we so often seek to compare, when our experience is so far outside of our understanding and present reality, that we must compare to stand any chance of making sense of it all. for me, the comparing hits hardest when i'm in the worst of times, the darkness and the moments of despair and when i feel i have nothing in me that prepares me for this unbelievable task.

and then there are the other-worldly moments of Light, belief and hope...those are the best of times. the giggles you hear in response to something you did, or to nothing explainable at all. the smile that takes over her entire face as you engage with her in the simple, everyday moments. the deep eye-locking gazes she blesses me while nursing that remind me how much better relationships can be when we just stop, pause and really look at someone else.

i have found myself thinking and often even saying, "this is the absolute hardest thing i have ever done...i don't think i can keep on keeping on". how many times can i utter those shameful words for them to retain their meaning?

i have had the unique and treasured experience of staying home with Ilona these past 3 and half months, with few other distractions to keep me from just learning how to mother her and love her with my entire being. today, as i watch my daughter peacefully napping beside me, i am reminded mostly of the incredible moments of complete and unexplainable joy that i have felt in these best of times. when i'm not wallowing in my feelings of loss, selfishness and complete exhaustion, i can see Ilona for what she is. a gift that i have begged years for. a light that already reflects the beauty of all that is Good in this world. a new person in my life who will likely teach me more than i can even realize about how to live well and how to love others.

maternity leave is almost over and my heart is heavy. how do mothers separate from someone who has so captured a piece of their heart they didn't even know existed? i have watched many mothers in my life do this painfully, yet with grace. i know i have said it before, and i will likely say it again, but i think leaving Ilona to work will be the hardest thing i have ever had to do.