What Binds Us Together, What Tears Us Apart

"The moment the child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new."

No matter how many times you may read that, how many times you may meditate on the sentiment, until you are born as a mother you will and can never understand it. I don't say this out of arrogance or self-conceit, it is a simple truth. The birth of a child means the rebirth of a woman. She is taken apart and remoulded, in the blink of an eye. On the outside we look the same, but on the inside we are changed, left open and vulnerable, at the mercy of this tiny child we hold in our arms. Yes, motherhood, it is one of the great deciders. A decider of who we are, what we will become. It makes us or it breaks us. It is a glorious journey of self rediscovery, a journey we gladly embark on, filled with hope and possibility. We meet not only our child, but the new us. The us we call mother.

But despite the wonder of motherhood, for many, including myself, it can be a time of great loneliness. Where unshakable relationships once stood, now chasms gape. The distance between mother and non-mother widens, by no fault of anyone, but by the simple passing of time. Canyons eroded by priority and misunderstanding. Yes, motherhood, it is what binds us together, and what tears us apart.

Why I've Chosen To Raise My Son Away From The Church (or, Hit Me With Your Comments About How I'm Going To Hell)

I am not an atheist. Neither is my husband. Rod is Christian Lebanese, which is just another way of saying he was raised Catholic, while both of my mother's parents were Wesleyan missionaries, my Grammy still being an active member of her church. I was raised in a moderately Christian home, attending a wide variety of churches throughout my formative years, and schools that encouraged prayer and the singing of hymns at our weekly assembly.

Yet, from a young age I knew the route I wanted to take in terms of raising my children. And it was not to be a religious one. When it came time for Rod and I to discuss our ideas, I was overjoyed to find that his sentiments echoed my own. Church has never been for me. In fact, religion is not for me. I have tried, a number of times, but have never found solace in ritual or dogma. If anything, they set my teeth on edge. I am, I suppose, what one might label as spiritual. I have very strong beliefs, but they are not to be contained within four walls on consecrated ground. Rod, on the other hand, attended a Catholic school for his entire career and, as a result, has chosen to part ways with Mother Mary and her rosaries, but not with the concept of a God. It has been suggested that I was the catalyst for his departure but, if you'll allow me to address that theory, he hadn't considered himself a Catholic for a number of years before we even met.

Momma's Getting Her Groove Back

One of the hardest things about motherhood, possibly THE hardest, at least from where I'm sitting, is seeing yourself as a woman again after baby. Too many of us slip into the habit of being "just a mother", and forget that there are many mantles we must wear. Mommy, wife, lover, friend, companion, WOMAN. Too often we forget what we were before we had a baby asleep in its crib and a lounge floor covered in scattered toys and bread crumbs. I had an amazing pregnancy, I adored carrying my tiny bundle around inside of me. And I felt empowered by my little man's tiny and growing presence. I took strength from him when I felt weak, and shared all of my thoughts and dreams with him before he'd drawn his first breath. And I loved the way my pregnant body grew and changed. I enjoyed all the new curves - the fullness of my thighs, the weight of my breasts. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I had purpose. True purpose. A calling. I felt calm, at peace, and full. I was woman. But, after a few months of erratic sleep patterns, feeding bras and ponytails, not to mention a year of being little more than a milk dispenser to a very hungry child, it's not hard to see why the former womanly you may take a back seat.

Things That Really Piss Me Off (Now That I'm a Mom)

It's no secret that becoming a parent really shifts one's world view. Pick up any mom and baby magazine, chat to any new mom or dad, they all say the same thing - the world just looks different. When a child is born, so is a parent. It's as if a switch is flipped in your head, sharpening your vision, forcing you to confront those things that have only ever been peripheral to you. The days seem shorter, the failing education system scares the crap out of you, small dangers are vastly more terrifying. And things you took for granted, or never even really thought about, piss you off.

Over the past 15 months my own world view has been radically altered. The manner of my little man's arrival certainly jostled my brain into high gear but, if I'm honest with myself, the true eye opener happened a little over a month before I first saw his precious face.

Ricky's First Birthday - In Pictures

A party with the family...

Mommy worked hard on this birthday cake!