Growing Up

I was sorting through a bin of random stuff when I came upon a collection of notes I'd written to Roo years ago. Little love notes, silly quotes, a handwritten 'Hobbit' book I'd illustrated with funny pictures and text, stapled together, and given as a gift. Most of these things I didn't remember making, I didn't remember writing or thinking up. So as I rediscovered them, I smiled at my own wit, my own cute efforts to show my love to Roo, to impress him.

Then I started feeling something like sadness, I guess it was. Because it seems like the person who wrote those silly notes no longer exists. The person holding those notes today is serious, not silly; too detached and tired for wit; too heavy with the ever-present fatigue and business of motherhood to be clever; too preoccupied to remember funny quotes and phrases. I felt like mourning for the loss of who I had been.

I thought, is this what it means to grow up?

Motherhood is all-consuming. It consumes my time, my thoughts, my personality, my affection; it establishes my priorities, it determines my schedule, it has reshaped my very physical form; it defines me now. Having two babies has made it definitively so, and I am just now actually realizing that.

I know this is a blessing, but it is a hard blessing, too, sometimes.

Yesterday when Esmé refused her nap yet again after repeated attempts, it was utter desperation.

And then there are these moments: every morning Esmé reminds me to say my prayer. She waits until I've closed my eyes and am thinking my hopes and worries to God, then she silently kisses my upper arm. I can't help smiling and reaching out for her hand.

And today Penny took her first shaky, independent steps.

I suppose what I may have lost--whatever silliness or innocence or youthful naivety--has been eternally outdone by what I've gained. I am a mother now.

And when I was feeling pressured by my yet-unfulfilled potential in avenues other than motherhood--meaning, when I felt guilty for not developing other talents or 'life callings' I feel I have--I talked to Roo about it. He said, "Ease up on yourself. You're exhausted. That's okay. Get to them when you can. "

And he helps me realize, this is who I am. This is my calling now. The other callings--though they are very important and do have a place in my life--need to wait their turn.

I guess that is the essence of sacrifice; and in that case, I guess the answer is, yes, this is what it means to grow up.