I have been away. In a corner. A hardwood floor of my heart. Trying to deal with going back to work. I have been dealing with post partum. I feel much more balanced now. But the past two months have been hard. I have realized I can’t hold all the plates. Some come crashing down and shatter on the floor. Some drop and roll, spinning on their side, lost in the translation of the hallway of my life. I just can’t hold all of them at the same time. I thought I could. I thought I should. I thought I would. But I haven’t.
And I am ok with that. Now.
But I wasn’t. I was under this impression that you have a baby. Then you go back to work and everything should be as it was. But it isn’t. It is as if your world is split open and turned upside down, looking at a different hemisphere of stars. No longer is the North Star guiding me. Instead, I forge ahead, led by another bright star formation in my heart. It glows in the dark and warms me from inside when I am sad. That warmth is the heat from motherhood. I have longed for motherhood for so long, I can’t remember not longing for it. Not mourning the absence of it. And now I am in the oven of it. Sometimes the oven burns me. Sometimes it cools me. But the oven in my heart is always on.
There are no oven mitts to protect me from the burns of being a mama. My heart lives outside itself with the presence of my son. He is growing so fast. So fast. So fast. Just yesterday he started rice cereal. And the day before was his first train ride. And before that, he fit into 3-6 month old clothes. Now he is wearing 9 month old clothes and he is still 5 months old and change. Working has kept my mind busy and my heart burning. I want to hold all the plates, but I have to let some drop if I wish to hold the most important platter of all – my family.
So I go back and forth, up and down, right and left, on and off. But my mama oven is always on. North Star or Southern Cross – I am guided by the light and love within.