Conquering the parental cynic within me...

Upon bringing home my son from the hospital I had severe doubts about my choice of embarking on the Journey of Motherhood. I didn't feel good, my old life was gone, seemingly in a flash, and then there was this little person completely dependent on me: self-absorbed, imperfect me.

It took a complete readjustment (attitude and otherwise) to come to grips, to come to an acceptance of my choice. No amount of preparation could have saved me from myself and the emotions and fear associated with one day your not a Mommy, the next day you are. About five weeks into this transformation I felt things were starting to become somewhat manageable. Heck, I even started enjoying having the tiny person in my life. Life had changed...life was altered, skewed in a different direction, traveling a different path.

Over the course of a number of years I have been in the presence of many...living, dying, breathing, not, young, old, cynic and optimist. I've witnessed relationships come and go and come back again and in all this time I thought I understood what it meant to be attached, in love, devoted. Little did I know there was a missing link to my understanding. My son.

Like the nuanced difference between empathy and sympathy, becoming a parent is changing how I relate to the world. Intellectually and emotionally my response to life is evolving to include a new perspective. Of all the things I knew I would give up in order to bring Jackson home, of all the things I didn't know I would give up in order to bring Jackson home, the one thing I miss the least is more of me, what I want, what I need, what I think. For the first time I care more about someone else, truly, and in this revelation I am finding there is great freedom.