I know it’s not July 19th today. Still, walking back from my grandparents’ home to my mom’s after a brief visit stirred memories of July 19th, 2005. My gateway into a parallel universe. The last day before I became a mother.
Somehow, on that day, the emotions and thought processes of a person without children remained tangible to this other me, this mother me. And these emotions and processes are so very foreign to me now, that’s it’s kind of hard for me to believe that they were actually mine, and not something I read about somewhere.
Besides the obvious sudden presence of another, very time and attention consuming person in my life, it’s kind of hard to put a finger on the differences. I still go run errands and stop for a leisurely cup of coffee, if possible. I still frequent bookstores and can get lost for hours on end reading something engrossing or doing something seemingly pointless.
God knows that day was very marked with the promise of things to come, I was having contractions every five minutes or less from early morning, even though they were really not moving anywhere, and it took a good 36 hours from when they started until she was out. But still, there was one very big thing missing from that picture.
Everything I do nowadays, every breath I take, and whatever other cliches come to mind, is marked with this profound sense of responsibility and obligation. Everything else I had done in my life beforehand was reversible. Now nothing is.
Now, it so happens that I am actually quite good at motherhood. It challenges me, keeps me on my toes, and I do whatever I can to give my kids everything I think that they need and deserve. And they are really awesome kids. It really looks like I am doing my job well, if I may say so myself.
I still can’t help wondering what doors I have closed on myself, and trying to pinpoint the exact moment they slammed shut. Though I often realize, or maybe just really want to believe, that if I were doing anything else with my life, I would have been crazed with the ticking of my unsatisfied biological clock by now, and regretful that I hadn’t got a head start on it.
A major theme of my life for the most part, and from very early on, is that I don’t quite know how I ended up where I am right now. The feeling that I am the ultimate drifter, being carried by other people’s decisions and suggestions to some sort of latent nothingness, manifesting itself at different points in being able to say that I’m doing this or that, without really being committed to any of it.
Well, I am committed to motherhood. To the death, and I mean what I’m saying here. This is the one thing in my life to which I can trace the exact sequence of choices, all made with the conscious desire to become somebody’s mom.
I still don’t know if I can live with the concessions I have made to do this. I still don’t know if I have what it takes to keep it up for as long as I have to. And this terrifies me, because I know that I have chosen to give up my right to choose on this. Willingly, knowingly, gladly.
Sometimes I wish I could take off the adult costume, and go back to being the 4 year old me, which is still the “real me” with which I truly identify. And then I think about July 19th, 2005. What if I had passed that day, and woken up the next without any change in my life? And I think it’s the saddest thing I could ever imagine.


1 Comment

Filed under Random Ranting

One response to “Gateway

  1. Hello and thank you for your thoughts. You described my point of view that exactly – it’s crazy.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s