An uncomfortable mother

I have always believed there is a value in making oneself feel a bit uncomfortable.  I find I learn so much about myself and life when I am not afraid to be a bit uncomfortable.  As a child, fresh out of the pool, heading home in my mom’s 1979 VW bug, the seats were so hot we had to sit on our towels.  But the air, the air in the closed car was like a wall of heat.  I remember sitting and slowly breathing it into my lungs, feeling the air molecules as they. went deeper into my body.  It was an amazing experience feeling the air so clearly because of its heat.  Other kids would complain, but I sort of relished it.

When my kids were little I ffirst heard of mom’s not believing in vaccination.  At first I was appalled and enjoyed that sense of self righteousness that goes along with little like life experience.  Then a few months later I came across an article about vaccines, this was back in the days of the original DPT shot, before they revised it.  IT spoke of the very rare, but nevertheless serious side efffects.  At first I quickly turned passed the page, but then later found myself drawn to the feeling of being uncomfortable with something and knowing it meant I had something more to learn.  SO I read it.  Through the years I have thought a lot about that day.  It opened my mind to so much.  In the end I didnt change my mind much when it came to vaccines, but I did discover integrative medicine, organic (back in the late 80’s and early 90s) and, my passion, herbal medicine,

And now, I am back in school.  Racking up a healthy student loan debit, and pushing my tired brain, so comfortable with its way of life that it often fights me and the changes I am imposing on it.  And to be honest, I am afraid.  I am afraid I dont know enough, I am not thin enough, I wont speak well enough or write clearly enough.  ANd of course I am stubborn and am very passionate and way too earnest- all of which can cause problems when you are trying to come off as a professional who is calm, controlled and competent.

SO I am heading to make myself more uncomfortable.  As I held my baby girl in my arms, her baby bulging, straining to make it presence here in just 6 wks, I almost cried.  I wanted to cry because I am scared, because I want to hold her as she pushes this baby out and because I want to push myself out.  We are all in the process of creating ourselves, yet this feels significant.  I feel. So uncomfortable, so out of my comepetency zone, so alone in the end, that I must push myself for out.

Dear Leo, be kind, gentle and quick.  Sweet lovely little girl/mamma, forgive your mother’s wandering ways. My heart aches to be with you and to find where my path is leading.  They bath matter so very much to me.  Please know how desperately difficult this was and how I left part of myself with you.

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