When I found out I was pregnant with Isaiah I was not happy. I was freaked out. Sending these words out on the internet isn't fun... Sending these words out forever onto the internet carries weight. I understand that one day I'll have to explain to Isaiah, "you weren't planned," "Mom and dad weren't very happy at first," "you gave us the gift of learning how to grow in love with something that was difficult." I tried hard to be happy. I faked it, mostly. I painted and decorated a "jungle themed" nursery. I read baby books and prepared as much as I knew how. Following Isaiah's birth I experienced intense postpartum depression and psychosis.
The other day I was thinking about what are the reasons why I eat. Not like "hey I am hungry" eat, but the "the world is so fucking dark and confusing someone hand me a whole cake!" eat. I thought long and hard and began to consider my life. After I gave birth to Isaiah I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I threw myself into domestic activities. I even had another baby, and then another...though Tobias' conception is a whole other story. My dreams were to finish undergrad, move out of Arkansas, start research and spend the better part of my life writing and doing research. Unbeknownst to me my previously hailed "nonfunctional" ovaries decided to do what everyone said they couldn't: produce a baby.
So when I eat. I eat out of grief. I lost so much having a kid/kids. Some people, I am sure, would chide me, "Grow up! You've got kids now, suck it up and be there for them." For me, though, there will be no hours exploring my passions, no wrestling with who I want to be, no figuring out what it is I love. Instead I was handed a definition. He was wrapped in a hospital receiving blanket. His existence concreted my definition. I am mom. His existence told me what I was supposed to do: mother your son.
So when I eat I because of what I have lost. What I was never able to have.
I am working it out. I am figuring out what my story line is. I am a mother, but that is not all. I am hungry for something more...and that is okay.