motherhood puts you in a weird spot. like you’re in a twilight zone. stuck between two vague dimensions where everything is an oxymoron. two conflicting emotions at the same time.
sort of like a happy depression. which is exactly what i feel time and again when i’m breastfeeding her and we’re stuck in this sacred cocoon where it’s just me and her and time doesn’t seem to exist.
sometimes i imagine having an out-of-body experience where my spirit flies through these french windows and i’m looking at us during those moments and it makes me cry because i then think about the future and what it holds for her when i’m not there anymore.
that’s where the depression part comes in.
seriously, i think i’m going crazy sometimes. it could just be the hormones or whatever but either way, my symptoms are not google-able so i can’t make a proper diagnosis of what i’m going through.
compounding my mixed emotions are these damn love songs i’m listening to as if they were all written for her. i’m talking hard-core love songs. think lionel richie’s “stuck on you,” billy ocean’s “suddenly,” and linda ronstadt & aaron neville’s “don’t know much” that’s currently on eternal replay as we speak while the little one is sleeping.
and i wallow in the feeling. deliberately drown myself with my emotions like a poet suffering from unrequited love.
my dad, he calls me once in a while just to check up on me. one time, i told him how weird it can be to be a parent and feeling such a strong love for your kid but feeling sad at the same time knowing that you’ll lose them to time someday.
he told me that’s what he feels too, especially at night when he sees our doors and the rooms behind them are empty. all three of us — me and my sisters — have left home already. he says the house seems too big without us.
so maybe it’s something everyone goes through once they become parents — regardless if you’re a new parent at 32 or an old one at 66. it’s the same universal emotion.
and i’m finally let in on the club.