Moving forward by starting again

"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on". ~Carl Sandburg

Little Tyke’s absence is turning out to be quite an exercise. Not unexpected but it dawned on me last night that, in the 5 weeks that he’s been gone, I’ve also taken quite a journey of my own. I’ve been through a number of phases that until recently I had just thought of as the natural female emotions that would ensue in a situation such as this. The inevitable surface ripples of the displacement caused by his departure.

So far, I’ve been able to identify two phases for sure and I’m pretty damn certain of a third on the horizon:

Guilty positivity: I’m tempted to divide this into two. Although these ‘sub-phases’ happened in very quick succession, almost blending into each other; they were distinctly different. Different enough, for me to just go with my gut on this and separate the two. Why not?

a) Near-indifference: I say ‘near’ because I was ACUTELY aware of the fact that my son was going to be away from me, from his home, for the longest time ever and that that was a HUGE deal. It made me extremely nervous and I had a sinking suspicion that sadness would, inevitably, not be too far behind. Nonetheless, I was a bit numb to it and secretly glad for the breather.

b) Renewal: The ‘glad for the breather’ part of me morphed into a sense of expectancy and anticipation of all the things I could accomplish without Little Tyke here. Not in a bad way, but kinda like “here’s an opportunity to dedicate myself to putting in the work that’ll build him a Mummy he can be proud of”.

The two affected each other because I, a) had it in my mind that I should be feeling something that I wasn’t, and b) when I did finally start feeling something it wasn’t what (I thought) I should have been feeling. Hence the ‘guilt’.

Definite negativity: This week I was really on the business end of this one; close to being expelled from it and shot out, only to land in an exhausted heap - far, far away from where I started. The past 6days have been a ‘snot en trane’ [snot and tears] fest of note! I feel completely lifeless without him. It was like I finally realised that I had been lying to myself for a month. How could I have ever thought that life would be possible, let alone enjoyable, without him. It all started gradually enough - a small pang, then a general malaise. It just grew and grew until, at the worst of it, I was crying myself to sleep. I missed him unendurably and nothing, noone, could make it better. Fullstop! – Or at least until today.

Thoughtful positivity: This one is really all just riding on a hunch. It hasn’t gotten there yet, but I really feel like it’s going to be the next step. It may even turn out to be a part (a) for this phase *fingers crossed*. I think the very contemplative nature of this one just might push me into “Definite positivity” – which would be (b).

My last post was all about what being a mother has done for me. And like I said, the positives far outweigh the negatives. That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about today… ‘thinking’ being the operative word. I wasn’t clouded by my heavy emotion on this one. I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do now that I really truly realize how much I love this little person.

Recent events in the news like the death of little Vanilla Nurse, the Caster Semenya issue, Derrion Alberts in the US, and the Roman Polanski debacle have all had me thinking of how I’d feel if it was my child on the receiving end of all these events. I’ve been thinking about how vulnerable he really is and the fact that, with the world being what it is today, me and Hubby are all that the little guy has really got.

It all got me thinking that unlike Vanilla, Caster, Derrion and Mr Polanski’s victim, Little Tyke hasn’t yet lost anything. He may be far away from me, but when he returns he will still be intact and we’ll be here to take him into our arms and be blessed enough to go on to help him navigate his way through the world. It’s been quite a revelation and so my perspective is slowly beginning to shift. Of course, I still want him back – like today – but I also recognize now so many things that make me look at this time apart as a way to bring me something to look forward to.

I’m looking forward to holding my little boy with a new tightness and looking at him with fresh eyes. A true and resonant acknowledgement of my role in his life and his role in mine. I’m looking forward to using everything that I’ve learned during this time about being a mother to be a better one for him.