lucila soto

Je n’ai fait celle-ci plus longue que parce que je n’ai pas eu le loisir de la faire plus courte.

-Blaise Pascal

The worst year of my life. I’m not being dramatic nor exaggerating; simply put, I have lead quite a nifty life; well that was up to this past year.

This past year -his first year- has been quite a bumpy road for me. For starters there was the physical harshness of it: sleep deprivation, recovery from surgery, hormones bumping from here to there like crazy, breastfeeding (it’s a nightmare, a nightmare I tell you!), arms numbed from carrying him around, and so forward.

Then there’s the quasi complete annihilation of self: no time for even a shower, 24-hour of constant vigilance, getting strained from friends and family due to lack of free time, not being able to do those little thing/pleasures that used to make life special and worth living.

Relinquish is the right word. I did relinquish my former self and now I’m first a mother and then all the rest. Even the parts that I can still do -which I love to do, such as running, reading, knitting, writing or yoga- have been completely altered. They now are touched by his presence, his ever demanding needs, whims and desires. They are time constricted and modified. Everything in my life is.

Then there’s the real hard part. That part when you get to confront yourself in complete earnest to find out how -priorities now changed- plainly clueless you were.

Yes, I did enjoy and love those carefree times. My life nothing but my own, consequences only affecting me, responsibilities only to myself.

Then again, today I find myself different. The learning experience of it all is terrifyingly humbling. I’ve been forced to recognize how wrong I had it.

Today I find myself fearless (as all mothers are) and so focused on making myself better (more coherent, more strict with myself, more demanding) so I can teach by example.

Still, there’s the good –really good–part of it. He’s taught me the importance of mindfulness. I now know what trust complete is as he extends his open arms towards me.

I smile more, more frankly also, as he shows me each day how true to one self we naturally are (then society comes and blah, blah… a discussion for some other time).

And so, one day at a time, the worst year of my life ended. I have mixed feelings about it and there is much I would prefer not to live ever again.

But there’s no denying it, if you see with care and attention, in every one of the pictures where I’m carrying him in arms it isn’t him who is holding on to me; it is me that holds on to him tightly with heart and soul. My new center, my column, my eternal love, my world.

Ready or not, year two, here we go.