I used to think I was good at change. I adapt pretty well, I thought, impressed with myself. Look! I went off to college without a hitch, had not one hint of homesickness. And then I got a teaching job, leased an apartment, bought a house, had a baby. My twenties were seamless, or so it seamed. (Ha ha ha.)
It wasn’t until I had my daughter in 2009 that I realized I’d been kidding myself. Everything had changed and was changing, and I was overwhelmed. You’d think I would have been prepared. (Actually, I thought I would have been prepared.) I went from sleeping 10 hours a day to sleeping only 4, and intermittently, at that. Two children were far harder than one. (I hadn’t really guessed that.). Days were filled with whining and crying and the fluorescent lights of super-marts; I’d drudge down the aisles for baby food, diapers, toilet paper, coffee, chocolate covered pretzels, coffee. I dreaded night time, the dark hours when everyone else in the world got to sleep and my daughter stayed wide awake, crying in pain after every feeding. Not only that, but she didn’t do the same things or have the same predilections as her brother. That just didn’t seem fair. I was starting from scratch again, when I thought I had already gained all the wisdom I needed to know.
I had certainly changed. I was unemployed and full of anxiety and less patient. My husband and I had no time, and our lack of sleep made us point resentful fingers at each other’s bulbous, sugar-filled stomachs. Having a girl to raise worried me in a new way. Now I wouldn’t be able to hide from my childhood so easily. I would have to face things about growing up that were uncomfortable. All of this came to a head in February of 2010, when I realized I had post-partum depression.
When I look back on that year, I know that my struggle—my family’s state of change—was a gift, and still is. If I hadn’t reached those depths, I wouldn’t have moved into the present with such careful deliberation. I wouldn’t have learned the meaning of true strength: accepting and honoring myself without the constant, grating, harsh judgment that had become the white noise of my brain. I learned how important it was to take care of myself so I could be a good mother to my kids, a loving wife, a competent professional, a person I wanted to be around.
I wouldn’t have recognized, if I hadn’t forced myself to look so closely, that I’m not a huge fan of change. (I just fooled myself for a really long time.) It’s so much easier to let things continue the way they are, to not have to challenge your own perceptions. It’s so much easier not to do the heavy work of figuring out who you are. But for me, change couldn’t be helped. I learned that it is natural, inevitable, the starting line of what it takes to grow.
I can tackle change now. My soul-searching in the past few years has shown me that I’m blessed with a heck of a lot of resilience.
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Nothing like a child to teach us more lessons than we can ever imagine, and to encourage change in us – if we’re lucky.
Usually, that change includes flexibility, a reassessment of values, an appreciation for moments that have nothing to do with titles or credentials of “stuff.”
As for resilience, perhaps we develop a mental toughness (as well as stamina) over the changing years and demands of parenting at each stage. It’s tiring. But it’s also wondrous.
Lovely, honest piece.
I think having a girl makes you see yourself more clearly. Strange. None of us are really good with change. But resiliance is our mental flexibility. And I think our kids are the best teachers for that.
Four hours of intermittent sleep makes me want to give change, no matter how small, the finger. (Pardon the expression.) How do parents survive that part without coffee and sugar and pointing fingers?? I’m pretty sure I kept Coca-Cola and M&Ms in business during my mothering-of-a-newborn phases.
Yes! I appreciate people who give the finger to whom it is due.
My sugar weakness was, and has almost always been, Twizzlers.
Resilience, Hear Hear!
One of the things I had trouble saying yesterday while typing out my CHANGE post at o’ dark thirty in the morning was that I was always very good at change, but now… now things are differently. The changes seem bigger and more necessary and thus DAUNTING. Where I used to kind of let the changes happen TO ME and land on my feet no matter what, now I find myself IN CHARGE of all these changes. My heart and my gut are telling me that this and that really ought to change if we want THIS or THAT kind of life, if we want PEACE as a family. It’s all so very daunting. And I know it’s going to be uncomfortable. And I’ve got about the least amount of discipline out of anyone I know. And yet, there’s my heart, screaming all these words at me in this very nice but still sceam-y kind of voice. It’s really hard not to listen.
I’ve come to realize that I don’t like change all that much either…but I’m with you, we have to, so resilience is key.
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