I was never one for being tied down. Restlessness is part of the fabric of my being. If I don't get up and go once in a while, I'm subject to stress and migraines. I've been trying to reconcile this state of being with the state of being a mother, but the fact is that motherhood is surprisingly non-negotiable. Thus, the perfect solution eludes me.
Post-partum depression expert Vivienne Wellburn writes that, "after we have given birth it is as if we wake up to discover that a mountain of sand has been deposited in front of the door of our home. Some women get to work energetically to dig routes out...They find marvelously inventive ways to cope with the situation... Some try to dig a way through and get buried; others just look at it, feel defeated, retreat within their four walls and give up."
My experience with the wall of sand has involved all of these tactics, sometimes all within the same 15 minutes.
The pile of sand gets diminished as your kids get older, and heck, there may be a day when you miss that pile of sand, that excuse to stay holed up with the new little love of your life.
But for now, I struggle with the need to travel and experience the world with the need to care for a young one. My solution this week is to leave my little pile of sand behind and experience the wide world alone, without my child. Yes, taking a long trip--the longest thus far--without my Avery.
Motherhood is a mixed bag. Mixed feelings crash around in my heart. But I know she's in good hands with her dad. And I know that I need this for my own well-being.
See you later, Atlanta. Take care of my baby while I'm gone. Portland, here I come.
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