The Mother Inside of Me.
I’ve never wanted children.
Four years ago I lay on my back under the stars in a campsite in Ojai, CA. Lilac, my dog and I were strangely the only dwellers besides the camp hosts. The surroundings were quiet and soft, even though my back was flat against the hard and still warm pavement. I stared into the sky and got lost in the expansiveness to then see a shooting star. Isn’t it amazing how those seem to happen right where you’re looking?
I guess because I was looking, an image of me walking on a beach holding a tiny hand, scurried by. I heard a big, clear-the-room kinda voice,“I want to be a mom.”
It really was one of those magical moments, I felt as if this new knowledge just birthed out of me, creating such a release in my body. This new permission to want something, to want THIS, was overwhelming and odd.
As my husband and I just parted ways after 15 years, this desire to become a parent after not wanting it while in a committed partnership was more than surprising. Had I been clenching this need, this summons from my body my whole life?
I had never thought about it when I was younger. I guarantee the words “when I have a baby…” have never left my lips, unless I was talking about baby giraffes because I’m still working on that dream.
It’s as if I held this baby-wanting, hostage. I was so against having kids because I felt like it was irresponsible. According to science and the carbon footprint, It’s the worst thing I could do for the environment. I would look at the pro-creators with multiple kids and feel sick to my stomach. Why do they need so many things? Why do they buy the new, plastic stuff made in China and carry it all just to go to the grocery store? Babies signified selfish. It was hateful.
I hated me.
(These points aren’t wrong, our Earth is at a tipping point! It really can’t handle any more of the taking and depleting and it is something I am conscious about. But I also now believe that there is something else, something bigger that we can’t see with our eyes).
I thought so much about everything and everyone else that I never asked my womb if it was even interested. Years of perfectionism, depression, worrying about others, being in a relationship that wasn’t igniting all of my fire; kept me at a strong arm’s distance from this part of myself.
I started to love myself 4 years ago after Brian left. Like really jumped in and put in some effort. I learned the value of looking within for answers, that I was actually really smart. I learned what I don’t want in a relationship or a career. I started to do things I was passionate about, I ate better and I got healthier. I started to care what I thought, what mattered to me. This child I was missing was metaphorically me. I became a really great Mother, to myself.
I want a baby, however, that comes to be. I can see what an amazing mother I am to myself, my friends and family. I know this allowing of myself is bigger than I have been able to see.
(I soo did not try to make that rhyme but I’m gonna allow it this time.)