Weekend Mummy
by Kym on September 7, 2009
Our family tree feels fractured. Split. Askew. I am not the green and growing bough I was, quivering aloft, looking fondly down at my children and encouraging them also to grow. I have been transplanted to lonely and unfamiliar soil. If I didn’t have Claira and my parents here with me I think I would feel utterly bereft.
This weekend, this lovely long weekend, brought my family back to me. The girls were sleeping when Neil carried them inside Thursday night. Pajama clad. Their blonde hair curling up against soft flushed cheeks. I felt such a need for them it was like a physical pain tucking them in and closing their doors. And yet it was a soothing of a pain as well. Kissing them. Loving them up close instead of from a distance. I felt as if something had been restored within me. I felt more like me than I had all week.
And the weekend continued in that pattern. Restoration and then this horrible aching need. Like my insides had been hollowed out and there just wasn’t enough time to fill them in again.
I learned something though. Something key to surviving this oh so small, brief moment in the life span of our family. I learned that there is no limit to and no expiry date on love. Oh I knew that, of course, intellectually. But it’s another thing entirely to live it, test it, prove it. I can’t be the mother I want to be right now. I can’t be there for them whenever they might happen to need me. I can’t be there to soothe every hurt or tuck them in every single night. But that is no limitation to the amount of love I feel. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, except perhaps that the showing forth of that love has been concentrated and intensified.
This weekend I poured forth a whole week’s worth of love in just a few days. It was dizzying and exhausting and exhilirating all at once. I feel wrung out. I feel like I am glowing and perhaps floating somewhat. Such a strange mix, this. I wonder how it will feel next time they visit, as nearly two weeks will span this visit and the next. I hardly know how I will bear it, and yet I look forward to it oh so eagerly.
I am more than a weekend mummy. I am a mum who is learning how to squeeze all her great love into just a few days (without completely smothering her poor children in the process). Quite the learning curve but so far a gentle one. As with many aspects of life, greater joy is experienced on account of having experienced greater sorrow. Our family’s time apart feels long, lonely, and horribly surreal. Each reunion brings such sweetness though, that I can hardly find it in me to begrudge our situation.
Okay, so maybe a little bit of begrudging is going on. But self-pity is nasty tasting stuff and I’m inclined to give it up altogether.
P.S. Sorry for the whiney nature of the last few posts. I’m really not sitting around having a big mope-fest, honest. Just working out some of my feelings as I adjust to things and recording them for future reference, etc…
19 comments
What a fantastic post! I am so glad that you were able to spend the weekend with your kids and hubby. And I’ll hope for the next 2 weeks to FLY past!
You made a comment on FB about reading the Hunger Games the next time you’re in the hospital… well, if that’s the case, I hope you don’t have occasion to read it till your new baby comes!! (even though it’s an amazing book and you really should read it NOW :))
by Melissa on September 7, 2009 at 1:09 pm. #
greater sadness does in fact bring greater joy. and somehow, a greater peace. that knowledge of what matters, really. I hope the resting time will be calm and productive and baby-saving. XO
by Becca on September 7, 2009 at 2:03 pm. #
Hi Kim,
I love to read what you write. Thank you for sharing.
My heart has been full of your ordeal and that of Kate, one of Nancy’s friends who was in a car accident on Thursday in which she lost her husband. Once she gets out of the hospital, she will be raising their daughter alone.
I love you young girls for your courage as you face hard things. I learn so much from you, and admire you.
by Myrna on September 7, 2009 at 5:22 pm. #
It’s ok to be sad and to write about it, this is a BIG DEAL and a hard thing for all of you to go through. The good thing is that your girls are younger and while they miss you and need you, they dont have a huge understanding of time, so they dont have to worry how long it may be that you’re on bed rest, and they will forget how long it was thinking back on it. There are things in my memories that seem like only a short time, but when my mom says it it was months and months. If only YOU could have that. *smiles*
by elizabethsheryl on September 8, 2009 at 2:21 am. #
I’m glad that your weekend was well with your family. Perhaps this is the reason it took you so long to get pregnant this time – so that your girls would be old enough to survive without you day to day. Funny how timing isn’t what we would choose, but can be good in the end (not that I’m assuming that no matter what you’d have to be on bed rest with Claira).
by Thora on September 8, 2009 at 4:20 am. #
Hang in there. Pretty soon you will be at home again with your whole family!
by Mara on September 8, 2009 at 4:52 am. #
I love that picture. The style is one I like and that portrait on the end looks so forlorn.
I’m so sorry you have to be on bed rest and away from your family. It’s ok to feel sad about it. The most important part is to also learn from it and it sounds like you have been learning and growing through the experience.
by Summer on September 8, 2009 at 6:23 am. #
Dearest, you have not sounded whiny. I’m so glad you had a lovely weekend!
by Luisa Perkins on September 8, 2009 at 7:46 am. #
This is so very lovely. I’m so glad the celebrations of togetherness outshine the loneliness and longing of in-between.
by charrette on September 8, 2009 at 12:35 pm. #
my heart aches for you just thinking about that kind of seperation…we really never know what kind of tests we will be given in this life. but Claira…oh sweet baby, you are so worth it!!
whatcha doing on the 28th?
by Jenn on September 8, 2009 at 2:03 pm. #
I’m so glad you got to spend the weekend with your girls. I know they must have loved that. You will be back with them soon enough, they know you love them and want to be with them. I’m sending you lots of love and prayers my friend. Hang in there. You’ll get through this. <3
by Jaina on September 8, 2009 at 3:53 pm. #
Hey, I was just reading your post when I saw that you commented on my blog! I’m sorry for these difficulties right now. How much longer do you have to endure? I will start praying for you.
by Erin on September 8, 2009 at 6:07 pm. #
Hey, I teared up on this one. I love the way you talked about your pain in missing your children. The physical nature of it is so real. I felt it when hubby and I dropped my son at the airport 21 months ago, all alone, at 5 am. It hurt. Glad you had a nice visit with your babies and sweetheart. Hang in there.
by Kazzy on September 8, 2009 at 6:44 pm. #
What a beautiful post Kim, I am all teary.
I’m so sorry for what you are going through, and so glad you have the support you need in Neil and your parents.
Again, beautiful. Sniff, sniff
by Tracy on September 8, 2009 at 7:57 pm. #
The love you feel as a mother is deeply profound. And you captured it beautifully in this post.
(By the way, I have loved the artwork you have been using on your more recent posts. Where are you grabbing it from?)
by An Ordinary Mom on September 8, 2009 at 10:45 pm. #
Don’t you apologize lady. We know you well enough to know your triumphant spirit in the mix. It’s there.
I can’t even imagine, friend. I could hardly handle being away from Miles with Asher’s whole thing, and that was only two nights. And he came to visit at the hospital. Sometimes life takes us from our kids and you are so right that it’s just a blip in the big picture. but it DOES NOT feel like it at the time.
You are loved,
Heather
by Heather of the EO on September 9, 2009 at 5:20 am. #
Oh, Kimmy. Such a sweet post. This is so hard, and you’re writing so beautifully about it. You don’t come across as whiney at all. But if there were ever a moment where whininess would be forgiven, it’s now. Good luck through all of this. Love you to death.
by Brillig on September 9, 2009 at 7:23 am. #
Kim, kim, kim. You never need to apologize, love! We love you just as you are (I love you to pieces!) and we want to share it ALL with you.
This is such a beautiful post. Every time you post, I’m overwhelmed with your goodness, your depth, your beautiful, beautiful heart. Oh, how i heart you. *hugs*
by L.T. Elliot on September 9, 2009 at 10:58 am. #
What a thoughtful and touching post. Thanks for sharing.
by JennyMac on September 10, 2009 at 5:14 am. #