Bits and Pieces

A dear friend of mine said without a hint of malice in her voice a few days ago, that she was saddened that all her Mommy friends seemed to have lost a part of themselves when they became mommies. It got me thinking. No one I know enters motherhood thinking that motherhood would be a time to shed the old skin and grow a brand new one. Most of the changes that occur, occur involuntarily and often without notice. The more self-aware among us also know that we are bound to change and what defines us as a person often changes. Some resist the change, some are resigned to it, some attempt to compromise.

But whatever it is, change does occur. Often because we end up juggling so many balls (roles) in the air and something has to give. I've faced this dilemma many times and the most recent encounter with this loss of identity, loss of self thing happened yesterday.

I've been feeling extremely run-down. I'm back at work, I'm entering my third trimester, I spend my days running all over the island on top of trying to spend time with my twins. Generally, I sleep about 5 hours a day, uninterrupted if I'm lucky (although often I'm not). That led to cramps round my belly for days and an episode of bleeding yesterday while I was at work. Any pregnant woman knows, blood of any kind is bad and the minute I saw it, I couldn't breathe. I knew what brought it about and I knew I had to go to the doctor as soon as I could.

Naturally, the doctor took a very serious view about my running about and lectured me about staying in bed and looking after myself. He admitted that it was easier said than done, especially when I explained my obligations to him, but intoned repeatedly that I had to at least try.

2 hours of contraction tracing later, I was discharged and ordered to be on bed rest. Packrat was extremely concerned and also chided me again (as he'd been doing repeatedly over the week) for running around as if I had no children and wasn't pregnant. All this made me feel extremely blue and depressed. It made me feel that I really wasn't living for myself and that I really was in over my head.

That thought, about having more than I could juggle was a thought that just resounded through the day and evening. And it really made me think about what my friend said about how moms lost part of themselves. Yes we do. And sometimes the problem is that it's not on purpose.

I know what I need. I need a break. I need time to just sleep and rest and kick my feet up and do nothing. But I have obligations. Obligations to work, to students whose exams are less than 2 weeks away. Packrat thinks that we should send the twins to their grandparents for a few days because then, I won't have to spend my nights looking after them and chasing their nightmares away. But how can I do that however tired I am? They are my children and unloading them on others is something I desperately want to avoid as far as possible. Is it because it makes me a bad mommy? Perhaps. Perhaps because I know I will be judged by the Nazi Moms out there as well as by myself. Is it because I want to martyr myself? No. But I do want to make sure that my children are ok and when they're away from me, I feel that I cannot do that.

Packrat suggests that we take a short break. Just so that we can finally spend some time together as a couple, to recharge, to encourage and love one another instead of just being on the merry-go-round as parents. I want to, but I worry about our finances, stretched as they are because we've been MPVed and other things. And is it fair for me to dump my children and think about myself? He thinks it's a fair thing because I am absolutely running on fumes but I cannot bring myself to.

So, have I lost myself? Yes, possibly. If I were really selfish, I would tell all the kids that need help to f&*( off. If I were really self-indulgent, I would get Packrat to book us into the Banyan Tree for a couple of days. If I were really self-centred, I would ship my children off and see them for an hour a day. If I really didn't care, I would spend every single cent of pampering myself. It's not unreasonable. Other people and other parents do it. And if I did all that, I would be swinging free Ondine. But I'd imagine, that the Ondine who was single is different from the Ondine that became Mrs Packrat and similarly, the Ondine that was Mrs Packrat, has had to change because Ondine is not just Ondine but Mommy Ondine now as well as Mrs Packrat as well as being JUST Ondine and I guess I will continue to change.

Sometimes, I hate who I have had to evolve into. I hate having to worry about money or in my most selfish moments, hate worrying about my husband or my children or about the baby that is gestating in me. And in these moments, I feel like I spiral into an abyss because these worries will get bigger. The bills will skyrocket as the children get older, as things get more expensive in Singapore and the demands are greater. And it never seems to end. That thought is depressing, sickening and absolutely demoralising, that it is just a downward spiral from this time.

Then, my children come and hug me tight for no reason and my husband wipes away my tears and takes the day off just to ferry me around and take me to lunch and I know that even though I am different and have lost bits of myself, I have gained other pieces that make it less gloomy and less abysmal. And then, I'm just about able to give the tiniest of smile and see that there is a silver lining.

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