Monastic life.

At our appointment with our midwife on Thursday I talked with her about some of the feelings I have been working through regarding my new role as mother. I shared about the jealousy I feel towards Josh concerning how he can embrace more easily the roles he plays outside of "daddy." I shared about the identity issues I have been facing, how I am trying to learn how to integrate the different aspects of my personality into my new dominate role of "mama." I try very had not to be bitter with Josh, not to be resentful. Sometimes things feel so solitary.

My midwife likened this stage of motherhood to that of monastic life. That resonated deeply with me. The other night a mama-to-be asked me what new motherhood was like. It was very hard for me to put into words how intricately woven the blessings and challenges become. It is as though one cannot exist without the other. Arlo is so heartbreakingly beautiful, so sacred and holy. And yet taking care of him is the hardest, most selfless thing I have ever done. By the end of the day I am so mind-numbingly tired it is difficult to put coherant thoughts together.

Tonight I am home alone and it is hard. I feel fried and ache for connection. I looked up the definition of monastic and was curious about the definition of "ascetic lifestyle." The definition of ascetic is:

A person who renounces material comforts and leads a life of austere self-discipline, especially as an act of religious devotion.

I can relate to that. I am still processing through a lot of this... I feel like this piece of writing is lacking. To be completely honest tonight I am lonely and hurting. I'm not writing this for pity, I'm just writing it because tonight this is all I have-- a holy baby that I love with my whole being and an achy heart that is constantly learning about surrender.

Enough light.

Glow.

Even amidst the dimness there has been enough light shining through to help my feet find solid footing. One such light is my loving husband who is downstairs with an over-stimulated Arlo so I can keep up with my commitment for NaBloPoMo.This is an exceptional feat, because when Arlo is experiencing these feeling of overwhelmedness with this world of air, to comfort him it helps immensely if there is a breast available. Josh has no such thing, and thusly his job is extra challenging, and he handles it so well.

Josh teaches me daily about unconditional love. I have been noticing how I tend to project my internal frustration upon him. Also, when I feel stress often times he receives the brunt of it. I don't know why I do this. I don't like it and I am working quite hard on evolving through it. One thing that noticing this has brought to my attention is how very seldom Josh responds to me in these ways. I can only think of one time that he grew frustrated with me. This is amazing to me-- to be loved in this way. He is one of my brightest lights.

48 Weeks

Tomorrow morning is our final appointment with our midwife. I am feeling very sad about this. She is one of the best people I know. I wanted to have time to write her and tell her how much she means to me, what this journey has meant, how glad I am for her walking it with me. I will write her, probably not tonight, I feel spent and fried. But I will.

Tomorrow I will probably cry.

Craving

These past few days have been rough. Much of my time has been spent abiding in alternating states of depression, anger, frustration, and craving. I have come face to face with intense identity issues. I feel dissatisfied with myself. Externally I am tired of this current manifestation of my appearance, I have been in this skin long enough to know when I get tired of these external factors it is indicative that something internal is happening.

I am uncomfortable. I just want to escape these feelings. I just want to know what it going on. Time and time again when these states occur it tends to be just before something powerful happens in my life. Things get really bad and then the flood gates of enlightenment open and relief springs forth. Its always darkest before dawn.

Last night I was reading Operating Instructions, Anne Lamott's journal of her son's first year. This book has been one of my best friends post-partum. Her honesty has helped me feel normal. A passage I read last night encapsulated so well a large aspect of what I have been feeling as of late:

The slow pace and all this rumination wear me down and bore me and make me desperately want a hit of something. Adrenaline, say, [...] or some big professional pressure, like a deadline I'm just barely going to be able to make. I want to check out. I do not want to be in the here and now with God and myself and all that shit. I know that this is where all the real blessings and payoffs are, that there is a good reason they call the now 'the present.' I want to learn to live in the now, I want to learn to breathe my way into it and hang out there more and more and experience life in all its richness and realness. But I want to do it later, like maybe sometime early next week. Right now I want a rush.

I have been terribly nostalgic. Thinking about different phases of my maidenhood. Those times when it was all about the rush. Of being so lost, searching so maniacally for the way. Now, I am more found than I have been my entire life and I miss that rush. I don't miss the lost-ness though, I remember it and I don't miss it. Today I felt a tinge of it, wandering around town looking for that right thing that would snap everything that is off kilter back into place. Its not to be found in this town though, or in any town really. Its inside, still, always. So I guess I'll keep chipping away at all of these rough parts, and be uncomfortable and the dawn will come at just the right time... Like Arlo's fleeting smiles, which are few and far between in this phase of his development. Just enough to bring tears to my eyes when he blesses me with one. They are like gold, they make it all worth it. 

Soundtrack of life.

I have noticed that the persona of motherhood that I have developed often times supersedes some of my other facets of personality. I am thinking there must be a way to develop a healthy relationship between all of the roles I play in this life. Tammy Ealom of Dressy Bessy

This month is National Blog Post Month, the goal--blog at least once a day for the month of November. I have participated in this frenzy for the last two years, and I must say, having record of a complete month in archive for possible reflection is pretty cool.The other day I was looking through my blog posts for this time last year for comparison purposes, where I was then/here I am now.This post made me grin from ear to ear: A Re-Introduction. That was the night of a Dressy Bessy, where I danced like no one was watching and Tammy Ealom told me she liked my dress, later that year she sent me two vintage dresses because she used some photos Josh took of the show.

This post,  a rummage through our c.d. folders today, and the fact that Josh and I are going to see Todd Snider perform on Saturday has made me remember how big of a deal music is in my life. Music is also a major part of Josh's life, as he has been working as a promoter for as long as we've been together.

I used to experience this part of our lifestyle on a much deeper level than I am able to now. I used to attend just about every show Josh put on, and often times after the shows we would have a living room floor full of sleeping musicians, who we had probably eaten, drank, and been merry with after their sets.

When I was getting my drinking under control I stopped attending so frequently, sometimes the environment was just too difficult  to be a part of sober. I attended quite a few shows pregnant with Arlo, he has patches from some of the ones he was a part of, and consequently absolutely loves music-- sometimes putting on something, dancing, and singing with him is the only thing that will soothe him.

Josh has been booking at a new venue since we moved to Columbia and it is not a smoke free environment, so even though there were some amazing acts playing I was unable to attend them during pregnancy. Josh and I have talked about the desire to take Arlo to shows with us, with noise cancelling muffs of course, we have yet to have the opportunity though because all of the shows that Josh has booked have been at the aforementioned venue. So, I haven't been able to interact with that more playful part of my persona in awhile.

Basement Show: The Pack A.D.

This month of writing I would like to explore some of facets of my personality outside of "mother." Then I would like to learn how to more wholly incorporating them into my mothering, because Arlo really deserves a well rounded mama!

As I mentioned before, I rummaged through Josh and I c.d. folders and pulled out music that reminded me of a story. For part of this month I am going to relay those stories in writing. Here is a list of the c.d.'s I pulled:

• Jimmy Eat World, Bleed American
• The Elizabethtown Soundtrack
• 13 & God, Self-Titled
• Jeffrey and Jack Lewis, City and Eastern Songs
• Blindside, About a Burning Fire

I would like to listen to these albums and do some stream of consciousness writing regarding their history in my life. Stay tuned!