Mom On the Go

Right now I’m sitting in the Detroit airport.  Alone.  Well, not really alone, there are hundreds of people milling about and 20 or so at the café I’m sitting at.  Ok it’s a bar.  But there’s a café immediately adjacent and the only open outlet was at the bar and mama’s laptop needs constant juice.  Mama needed juice too, and debated between the espresso shot or the Griffin Claw IPA to get through the mid afternoon slump.  I’ll let you guess which one won.

I digress.

I’m alone, in that for the first time in basically forever, I’m away from Grace. Forever meaning 381 days, or, the totality of her lifetime. (In truth she’s been alive 382 days but I spent one night away from her back in May. And it was painful. Physically. Boobs. Mentally and spiritually it was refreshing. Thanks Megs.)

You see, I’m going back to work this year. My work takes me away from home for a few days at a time, and I cant decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.  I think it’s a blessing.  I think it’s easier to leave and be gone for four days than have to leave every.single.day.  But I’m not sure.  I’ll let you know.

The days before this trip have been wrought with some major freaking ANXIETY.  Ultimately I know everyone will be fine.  But I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m abandoning my child.  I texted a dear friend who has a similar job asking her to give me a pep talk that I CAN do this, and she put it so poetically when she said, while Gracie will be fine, “walking out the door goes against every instinct you have.” So true.  Is that instinct right? Should I listen to it? Does it need to be kept in check?  The pre-mom version of Erin would have been like, suck it up lady, the kid has a dad and it’s important to let the dad be a dad and blah blah blah.  But the mom version of Erin “gets it.” I get it, fellow moms! Grace was once a part of my body, and while she hasn’t been a part of me for a while, she’s still always with me, and now she’s not and I feel like I’m missing something.  And certainly she’s going to be missing ME because I’m always there and OHMYGOD am I damaging her precious spirit? Have I abandonded her?  Is she going have issues for the rest of her life because of this? No.  Idiot.  But it feels that way.  Because I am the one who has been there every day and knows how she eats and what toys she likes today and which books to read. There’s no way she will survive without me!  She’s not going to have any fun! Yes she will.  Idiot.

Am I a mother or a 15 year old girl? smh. (that's for you Al. And Jess)

And now I’m here, in Detroit, halfway to my destination and you know what?  I’m okay.  So is my kid. I’m kind of enjoying the fact that I can read a magazine and eat caramel corn and go to the bathroom without having to pray the whole time that Grace doesn’t fall/tumble/crash down the hall/stairway/babygate. But in the midst of my enjoyment, I have this nagging feeling in the back of my brain. Guilt.  Let’s open a new can of worms, shall we? As if the abandonment weren’t enough, enter THE GUILT. In this moment, I’m happy, and I feel a little bit guilty about it because I’m not sure if I’m just a happy person who loves life, or if I’m happy because I’m away from my kid, messy house and piles of laundry. What kind of happy am I?  Maybe a blend of both? Tell me, fellow moms, that it gets easier to reclaim your identity, independent of your child.  Tell me that time makes it easier.  I know who I am without Grace but I haven’t been her for a four day stretch in a loooong time and I’m having a hard time finding my footing.  I like myself.  I like my job.  I love being a mom.  The mom piece of the pie has been the biggest one for a long time, and will probably be the biggest one forever.  But at some point, it has to enhance who I am and not strictly define who I am. 

It’s almost time to board my next flight, so I’ll ruminate these things from 50,000 feet and maybe ascending into the heavens will depart some divine wisdom into my brain and I’ll come down with all the answers.  If not, I’ll keep on keeping on, knowing my baby is in the best of care with her dad, who is at home, doing the toughest job of all.