The fog swirled around the valley, small pockets of blue sky offering some relief from the heavy clouds, as I made my way up and over the Pass. It felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind, despite the feeling of utter freedom and the welcome silence of the car, the only sounds KHOL and the spinning of my tires against pavement. How did I get to this place? The mother-to-be who was so scared of sacrificing her alone time for a little one seems light years away from the mother who finds herself missing her child after half an hour. The conflicting feelings of wanting this opportunity to see my best friend without interruption, like the old days, and the desire to turn the car around and give little Sam one more hug. I have become someone that would be a stranger to my former self, who prided herself on her independence and relished in her ability to get up and go to NYC when she wanted to. I miss that woman somedays, other times I barely notice that she has taken a backseat. I think that this limbo between feeling nostalgic about the past and the inability to concentrate on anything but the present moment is territory that comes with being a mother. At least this mother. Some days I am on cloud nine with my life wrapped around Sam's, flowing with his needs, responsive to his requests. Others days (although they are frequent they are still well known guests) I think fondly of my former ability to do exactly what I wanted when I wanted.
It was wonderful to get away from Sam for a night and be with Claire. To fully dive into our friendship and relish in the deepness of our conversations and interactions. My full attention given to her. No interruptions. No crying. No jumping up to follow the now crawling baby around. To spend two hours in the Patagonia Outlet without fearing a meltdown and to stay up late drinking wine on the couch, not worrying about the alcohol effecting my milk supply or trying to get to bed in order to wake up with Sam at all hours of the night. I revived a piece of myself that had been dormant and that I realized is still hungry, hungry for the space to stretch herself and relax her body and be quiet. And that need is paramount to being a good mom because I missed Sam so much some moments that it hurt. Missed his little laugh and his concentrating face and his bravery as he conquers the great feat of crawling.
I have an amazing husband. Without a trace of doubt in his voice he offered for me to take the weekend away. He did the feedings (the stipulation was that I left him a good supply of milk), he put Sam to bed, he changed and clothed and cuddled with him. He sent me updates that put my heart at ease. Along with my parents, he made my adventure north possible and peaceful.
One thing I realized on the couch with Claire, is that Sam is not only my catalyst for taking more action in my life but my dedication to him, my full-time job of motherhood, has made me calm down with "finding my purpose in life". And with that lack of obsession hanging over my head I am now finally finding more purpose in my life, through Sam, with Sam. I am not dwelling so much in my head but listening more to my heart and just doing. Funny how life works....