Everyone experiences a shift in their identity at least once in their life (unless you don’t, then lucky you). I experienced one the summer after my freshman year of college, another the following summer when I got married, and another the day we lost Carter. The first two times were accompanied with meltdowns about how I didn’t know who I was anymore, and resisting the changes that came with these new phases of life. Eventually, I settled in and got used to the new responsibilities and routines that came with growing up. And now, I wouldn’t go back to who I was even if you paid me.
If I had children at home, I accept that my identity crisis would be quite different than it currently is. I would suddenly have less time for myself and my hobbies, and our marriage would be focused on Carter. I would not be working, and I would be the busy housewife that I’ve always wanted to be. Sure, there would be hard days, and at times I would long for the days where I had more time to myself, but ultimately, like the other stages of life, I would adjust and flourish in my new role.
But how do you adjust when your life so quickly turns into something isn’t necessarily considered a “normal” stage of life? How do you cope when everything you planned for is ripped away in a single heartbeat? How do you settle into a phase of life you wish so badly you weren’t in?
The summer after my freshman year, I experienced a pretty strong bout of depression. It was really hard at the time, and I kept wondering when I was going to be my happy self again. Eventually, I got the help I needed, and was able to pull out of it. I came out stronger, and with a great desire to help others in that situation. When I got married, I never wanted to pay bills, had to learn to split holidays, and had to kind of be an actual grown up. It wasn’t hard, I just didn’t want to do it. Losing a baby though…I honestly don’t know how you recover from that shift.
I am a mother, by definition. The way I get to mother my children is far different than that of a mother with living children. In many ways, I am the same, but in many more ways, I am completely different.
My crisis since becoming a mother is so similar to what a traditional mother feels. How do I get to be myself even though my life is completely different? But rather than wondering when I’ll get more me-time, or how many years it will be until I get some privacy in the bathroom, I wonder if I will ever get to be the happy, naïve, empathetic, (decently) patient woman I was before. I spent the first half of my twenties really coming into my own, figuring out my strengths and building my self-confidence; I feel like up until October, I really knew who I was. And now, I’m a completely different person. You wouldn’t know it from the surface, I have a good job, a very happy marriage, and two little kitties. Still. These are all things I had before becoming a mother, and they are all things I have after. Some days it’s extremely hard to comprehend how life can go on being so similar to how it was before we lost Carter. It sucks, honestly. It makes it feel like those nine months never happened. That those hours we spent in the hospital were all just in my head. Like all my grieving is simply because I’m dramatic and emotional.
I don’t know how to be who I was in conjunction with who I am now. I want to be free-spirited and loving and kind and social. But grief drives me inside and keeps me down and limits my emotional outreach. I don’t have patience for anyone or anything. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to clean. I don’t want to go outside or to work or to social functions. I used to thrive off the adrenaline of getting things done. Now I just wish I could stay holed up in my house all day and never talk to anyone but Brandon and the cats.
I don’t want to be the person I am before, because before this, I was not a mother. But I wish so badly that I could be a normal mother. I wish I could take my babies to the park instead of visiting them at their grave. I wish I was picking up toys all the time instead of occasionally pulling them out of the closet. I wish I was doing multiple loads of laundry each day instead of letting their clothes collect dust in the nursery.
I wish I could be the same person I was, but busier, crazier, and mothering live children.
Maybe who I am and who I was can one day live side by side. Maybe eventually, like the two big times before, I will grow into this new role and be comfortable living this new life. I would give anything to change our situation, but maybe someday we’ll be used to our new normal.
- Remembering The Ones That Aren’t There - December 11, 2017
- The Truth About Triggers - November 1, 2017
- A Different Kind of Year - October 27, 2017
Caitlin, thank you for sharing your experiences. Until I began reading your posts, I felt so utterly alone. I am 33 years old and my husband and I have two angel babies. Last March, ‘Peanut’ McKay T**** died at 18 weeks gestation from triploidy and 4 months ago, our son, Samuel (Cookie) McKay T**** died after 8 days in NICU. I wanted and still want more than anything to be their mom here on earth. Will I become an earth mom? Will I go back to counseling children, adolescents and families? Will I keep my friendships? Will I be a fun person who enjoys being with others? I seem to be stuck in this dance of being a living person and wanting to feel like a normal, living person and not knowing how and even at times not wanting to for fear of moving further away from Peanut and Sam.
Again, thank you, and thanks to all of you brave mom bloggers. xo