When I first became a mom, I found myself often mourning the loss of my old self, of my old freedoms. I guess it’s quite common — unless you have an extra pair of hands to watch over your kid, you’ll find yourself saying goodbye to impromptu trips to the mall, sports events, the gym, anywhere where it may be overwhelming to try to do your own thing but at the same time, give your full attention to a small child.
One thing I constantly found missing were my solo Sundays hanging out in cafes, normally with a book borrowed from the library, or perhaps a journal for when inspiration strikes. Just carefree people-watching. No baby crying out to be breastfed or entertained, or to be changed after a diaper blowout.
And yet, after four months of nurturing a newborn at home, here I am back in a cafe, writing down in my journal, watching people come and go as I enjoy a cup of coffee. It took four whole months for me to clear my head and realize that my old life wasn’t completely gone, and that there was still room in my new life for parts of the old me that I am not quite ready to let go.
Often, it may seem bad, but I shall remember that sometimes, all I need is time to catch my breath and finally look up.
I learned something new today (the Universe seems to lob these wisdoms my way somehow when I need them): instead of saying, “It’s hard,” simply say, “I CAN do hard things.” This made all the difference.
.: ishcapades 