I grieved becoming an at-home mom. These are my thoughts. This is my story…
I wanted to be a mom. Maybe more than I wanted to be married. I prayed for the day when I could stop working to have and take care of my babies.
So it surprised me when the time came and I had difficulty handing in my resignation. And then I just dropped off the radar. (The magical radar that picks up on everything of importance, that is.)
This was my dream, right?
I didn’t know that I was grieving. Or that it was natural and okay.
When I closed the chapter on the past 8 years of college and teaching, I felt totally lost.
At first, I didn’t know how to describe myself. So much new paperwork. What do I write? Embarrassed to admit I had no employer, no occupation.
A complete crisis of identity. I lost my mine and the new one thrust upon me felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
It showed me how much value I placed on my education, my career. What defined me and filled me with pride? The feeling that came with getting dressed in nice clothes, attending meetings, professional development, chatting with coworkers?
Complicated by the fact that most of my social circle remained behind, while I was launched into this matronly category of life, full of midnight feedings and an inflamed sense of responsibility. I gazed longingly into their exciting, unattached world. Words like mom-jeans & mom-hair haunted my dreams.
I carried these burdens of my own invention. Alone. Embarrassed of my foolish struggle.
One year into this transition, still grieving, I had found my new circle. We sat around a table at a Moms group. Most were newly initiated.
On that day, our guest speaker was there just for me. A former career woman turned at-home mom. Her words pricked my ear, plucked my heartstrings, and unleashed my inner at-home mom pride.
_______________________
_______________________
-m :)
