You Forget the Pain: Pt. 2

Andrea was gracious enough to provide additional sentiments about motherhood and parenting, and it is such a treat. All text below is from her.

“In many ways, I feel that I was reborn having kids.” -Andrea

Illustration by Marnie Galloway

Having kids totally transformed my life and me. It is like living in a completely different dimension, a parallel universe. It turned my world upside down. Things that used to be a priority for me I no longer cared about. Things that I had no idea about before are now of prime importance. My existence at this point (I hear it changes as your kids get older) is so totally not about me. Being a parent is a selfless state of being. Your whole existence is about providing for and caring for another, defenseless little person. It is a tremendous responsibility. My tolerance for mess has increased. Things I used to want a certain way, now I can't be bothered even thinking about.

It has changed my relationship with my husband, and I see him in a totally different way now. We have less time with and for each other, because we're so hyper-focused on our sons. Again, I hear this changes as the kids get older. We are partners, a well-oiled machine. I appreciate him in different ways and for different things. It's harder. But more rewarding. I can't imagine being a parent with a partner who wasn't on the same level as me. I am so glad we see eye to eye on everything, and we both do everything 50-50.

It has made me question my values, question ways I spent my time, the influences on my daily life, my relationships, my desires. And it has made me view people without kids differently (sorry, but it's true!). So many people (not all, but most, honestly) without kids now seem so self-centered, so completely oblivious, just so concerned with minutiae and nonsense. Like when they complain about being tired. Or busy. It's sometimes hard to have conversations (again, with some, not all), as the things people without kids spend their time doing I can't relate to anymore. 

 But.

 I wouldn't have it any other way. It is an amazing, unbelievable thing to bring a person into the world. I am astounded at what my body went through, what I was capable of doing -- physically, emotionally -- to gestate and give birth to a human being. It was nothing short of miraculous. Primal. Parenthood to me is the only one REAL thing left in our superficial world, it seems. Pregnancy and birth, no matter the gloss society puts on it, how the world has medicalized it. It is primitive in a beautiful, ancient, and real way. Animal. Amazing.

And parenthood. I can't imagine the person I would be had I not had kids. It forces me to think in ways I never did before. As much as I felt I was starting to "get" the world and how it works and how to function, having kids challenged all of that. And thank god! Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. To watch a child grow up, to have a hand in nurturing that child, is astonishing, rewarding, heartbreaking, incredible. I have learned more from my kids and from being a parent than I ever had in the 34 years before then. It made me appreciate things I had overlooked before. In many ways, I feel that I was reborn having kids. It is like going through hell and back, and coming out the other end into a more vibrant, more colorful, more sensual, more expansive, larger world. 

 Life before kids is like this: 

http://lisathatcher.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/inspired_bei_mondrian_by_manshonyagger-d35kfou.jpg

After kids, it's like this:

"Surface Reality" 2004, Thaneeya McArdle

 And I always liken the experience of becoming a parent to this: 

My heart definitely has grown. My whole experience of life has expanded.

Lastly, I wrote the attached poem a couple of years ago.

“You Ruined My Life”

5.17.12

You ruined my life.

You ruined my impressive, important life.

You stopped me dead

            in my tracks

            climbing the ladder

            and made me put aside my esoteric pursuits.

I had no choice, really.

You arrived and set your seal upon my soul.

From the inside out

            you transformed me

            broke me down.

You took my pride and

            softened it

            like a stick of butter from the freezer

            melting on the counter in the sun.

You made it impossible to continue.

You made it unsavory and unappetizing.

You took my life and made it bitter

            and beautiful,

            adding rasas I didn’t know I had.

There was no retreat, no return.

You took my map and burned it

            in the fires within

            your deep, brown eyes.

And now I’m lost, trapped in a foreign land

            blind

            and soft

            with no escape.

Like a prisoner with Stockholm Syndrome

            I am yours.

Broken and tired,

            I am blissfully,

            achingly,

            eternally yours.

You ruined my life.

Thank you.