The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Conception
I know exactly the moment my older son, Paul, was conceived and it was fraught with panic and apprehension, not joy and anticipation. My husband and I had been married for roughly six months after being “together” for three years. There was no doubt that he was going to be the father of my child.
Someday.
I had just gone off the pill and we had just begun talking about getting pregnant. Even though we were in negotiations, I was not prepared to actually be pregnant yet, let alone be anybody’s mommy.
I was not ready. I just did not know how not ready I really was.
“Wait! It’s not a good time” I insisted.
“Come on, what are the odds?” My husband countered.
Indeed.
Looking back, seven and a half years later, I wonder if I had known what lay ahead of me would I have done things differently? Would I do it at all?
I hear mothers say all the time how they can’t imagine their lives without their children. I can only pity those poor women and their lack of creativity. I not only imagine my life without them; I fantasize about it to the point of obsession. Sometimes that is all that gets me through my day.
I am in a sailboat with the wind in my hair and George Clooney by my side. I am in a café in Paris with a handsome stranger. I am on a beach sipping a Mai Thai next to a smooth chested beach boy.
Sometimes my husband is there (well, a slightly better version) but my children do not exist. My body is beautiful. My stomach is flat and hard, unlike the Shar-Pei puppy it now resembles. My mind is sharp and I remember things easily, not frantically and too late. I can complete thoughts and tasks without interruption.
I contemplate these parallel lives as I muddle through my days. Multi-tasking is just another form of ADD. I spin hopelessly through my house from one mess to another.
I love my kids even though I often wish for something else for myself. Peace and quiet, a clean bathroom, eight hours of sleep, I could go on and on. It is not that I wish they were not here, but that I often wish I were not here.
So I cling to my fantasies and try to go somewhere else in my mind. Especially since I don’t really want to go anywhere with my family.
By Cathy Burke
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Someday.
I had just gone off the pill and we had just begun talking about getting pregnant. Even though we were in negotiations, I was not prepared to actually be pregnant yet, let alone be anybody’s mommy.
I was not ready. I just did not know how not ready I really was.
“Wait! It’s not a good time” I insisted.
“Come on, what are the odds?” My husband countered.
Indeed.
Looking back, seven and a half years later, I wonder if I had known what lay ahead of me would I have done things differently? Would I do it at all?
I hear mothers say all the time how they can’t imagine their lives without their children. I can only pity those poor women and their lack of creativity. I not only imagine my life without them; I fantasize about it to the point of obsession. Sometimes that is all that gets me through my day.
I am in a sailboat with the wind in my hair and George Clooney by my side. I am in a café in Paris with a handsome stranger. I am on a beach sipping a Mai Thai next to a smooth chested beach boy.
Sometimes my husband is there (well, a slightly better version) but my children do not exist. My body is beautiful. My stomach is flat and hard, unlike the Shar-Pei puppy it now resembles. My mind is sharp and I remember things easily, not frantically and too late. I can complete thoughts and tasks without interruption.
I contemplate these parallel lives as I muddle through my days. Multi-tasking is just another form of ADD. I spin hopelessly through my house from one mess to another.
I love my kids even though I often wish for something else for myself. Peace and quiet, a clean bathroom, eight hours of sleep, I could go on and on. It is not that I wish they were not here, but that I often wish I were not here.
So I cling to my fantasies and try to go somewhere else in my mind. Especially since I don’t really want to go anywhere with my family.
By Cathy Burke
Labels: Conception, fantasies, time alone
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