Isolation Rears Its Ugly Head #whycantwebefriends
I hadn't begun to realize the extent to which I was feeling lonely until the other day, my mom had to reschedule a visit with me and the baby. Sure, things happen. To a normal, well adjusted person? No big deal. See you next week, mom. For me, as a new mom who rarely has adult conversation, let alone meaningful adult conversation? Immediate weeping.
I kid you not. Evs was crying about something, probably refusing a nap (we're at that lovely regression, needing mommy ALL the time phase) and there I stood just sobbing over her. I'm sure it was quite a sight. A sad state of affairs, let me tell you. I guess we were pretty desperate for some company.
Call it what you will and maybe it was my impending period or my five month sleep hiatus; hiatus is what we're calling it these days. It makes me feel more "in charge." But let me make it very clear that I am not. The inmate runs the asylum in this joint. Any who, I digress. It was in this moment of disappointed tears that I realized how truly and maddeningly lonesome motherhood can be.
I suppose the signs were there: getting too chatty with the Target Starbucks barista, or the desperate anxious wish for someone to ask about my day, in order to share ANYTHING going on in my world. As much as I'd like, Michael is just not as invested in how today I am SURE she is definitely cutting teeth. "I swear, babe, I just know it." Or how I claim the Charlie's laundry detergent works better than Dreft. He is just not wired for it. Men just aren't. Yet, when he calls during the day or on his way home, I spill this out to him because I feel so far from real connections to other women.
I crave this new sort of relationship. A relationship that I have never needed before. A relationship void that Mike is unable to fill. I need an actual, real woman to woman, mother to mother connection. Not a group play date relationship where we discuss mainly our kids. I need someone who knows the isolation I feel. Someone who knows how it feels to be a completely different woman now than she was before. Someone who also woke up one day, feeling as though she was in entirely new skin overnight. Someone who no longer has any clue who she is.
The thing is, I don't know if this is even truly possible. As mothers, can we really set apart enough of ourselves to achieve such a relationship? After being up all night, surviving on coffee, extending most of what we have to our child and what little we have left to our partner, is there any room left for mom to feel whole? To have a phone call or a text exchange in solidarity? Most of the time, exhaustion and the unsaid sacrifice the world makes us feel required to make, leaves us isolated and quietly sucking it up.
The truth is I have no clue if I am just searching for a unicorn. But if you are out there, I think we need each other. I think motherhood is far too beautiful, messy & hilariously wonderful for it to be almost a prerequisite to rob you of meaningful relationships. Yes, we may change. We are different women. But doesn't that just leave room for us to build different relationships? To find different common ground? We must adapt, ladies; not give up and suffer in quiet desperation. We must find someone who can help us justify that glass of wine while watching the Bachelor. Someone who can empower us to go on a "mama strike" and get that manicure or have that girls night you haven't had in so long, you no longer know what it even means.
Maybe, to start, we just need someone to let us know they hear the music in our world. Someone to just reach out and let us know that we aren't going it alone. And hey, support for that glass of wine wouldn't completely hurt, either.