Grieving Myself

When I had my first child I realized that I was losing a lot of freedom. I still had so many things I wanted to with myself. A lifetime of experiences that I longed to have. Of coarse one look at her beautiful little face and it was okay, I knew I could put some of those things on hold. I divided those future experiences into two priorities, the "could waits", and the "can't waits". I tucked the "can't waits" into an imaginary box and shoved them way, way back under the bed. I took a giant, deep breathe and I adjusted.

Then I had child number 2 and closely after followed number 3. I took the box out from under the bed and quickly opened it so that I could put more "could waits" in and not let the others jump out and taunt me, they had been couped up in there a long time and where anxious to get out and run wild.

Child 4 and 5 arrived and of course I again added to my box. Then just as I started feeling sorry for myself, child 5 started to get a little bigger and more independent. I had more time to organize, clean and get things running pretty smoothly. I realized that he was soon going to be in school and I would gain back a little of my freedom. Maybe, just maybe I could allow myself a peek into my box and turn one of my "could waits" into a "right now".

So, I waited for a quiet moment and reached under the bed for my box. I had so much excitement and anticipation as I blew the dust off of my waiting dreams. I started thinking about all the things I had stored in there and what I should do first. Then just as I was about to open it, I knew... it still was not my time. I put it under my bed, but not so far back this time. I wanted to be able to see it still. And I did what I knew I was supposed to do.

Now, I added 2 more children and child Number 4 and 5 took on the new role of 6 and 7. I love all 7 of them dearly and they are the joy of my soul. I know that they are all worth so much more then any of those dreams waiting in my special box. However, as I would play and read with them I found myself stealing glances of my box. The "could waits" started to feel more like the "what if's" or the "why me's". For a few weeks I felt sad, almost angry for the freedom that I felt was so close but then pushed so far away. I was grieving for a ME that I once thought I would be. Not only did I feel like my own freedom was further away I felt I had entered a new realm of chaos and could not even plant my feet on a firm, clean kitchen floor, ever again. I felt I had lost myself...forever.

I knew what I had to do and I pushed that box as far back as I could, even piled a few things on top of it. A little voice assured me that I would one day get to open that box again. I might have to go through it and figure out what to keep and what to let go of but I will get to open it. The ME I had anticipated, the ME I was grieving for, is nothing in comparison to the Me that HE is sculpting me into. I know that the things I am doing now are to big to ever fit into that little silly box and I know that looking at my 7 beautiful dreams that once were "can't waits" but turned into "right now's" where the best things I ever did, even though they do come with a lot of laundry.

Then I took a giant, deep breathe and I started to adjust. But, I'm not trying to adjust my life to my old normal, I'm adjusting myself to a new normal.