The pursuit of joy
I’ve come to think that my own concept of “joy” has been radically redefined since giving birth, without me even realizing it.
After feeling “off” for a good while, I decided that I desired and deserved help, and started seeing a therapist a few weeks ago. The initial diagnosis: “baby blues”. Postpartum or prenatal, it’s early to say. But one of the very first questions he asked me was “what brings you joy?”. For what felt like the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of my life I sat there under his stare, frantically trying to come up with an answer. The more I thought about it, the more desperate I got to just say something, anything. That feeling stuck with me.
It felt like lately nothing truly brought me “joy”, and I was simply going through the motions of life a day at a time, grateful but unsatisfied, without joy. And even when there was joy, it often came with a side of guilt or regret as it involved being by myself, as opposed to spending precious time with my family.
Back to my therapist and his nagging question - the one and only answer I could come up with was my very last recollection of feeling joyful, which was when I witnessed S’s first steps. He nodded, and came up with an interpretation which nearly blew my mind. Safe for a health issue, which thankfully isn’t S’s case, kids his age inevitably start walking. This didn’t depend on me. S is thriving and will continue to thrive regardless of how inapt I feel as a mother sometimes. Regardless of me needing time for myself to “blow some steam” or simply recharge. He will certainly thrive with me, but also without my ominous presence. This realization lifted an incredible weight off my shoulders - it brought me joy.
Since that personal epiphany I decided to start a joy journal, to try and recognize that there is indeed joy in my life, and to hopefully get to know myself a little better. The list below is a work in progress, and what a massive progress it has been since that initial question:
Grabbing coffee and cake at a cafe (by myself, with my family, with a friend)
The kick I get after my first coffee in the morning
Having one-on-one conversations
Realizing that S is growing and has an independent personality, but still needs me
Walking around with a coffee warming up my hands on a cold day
A clean and organized apartment
Nice-smelling candles
Buying flowers for our home
Making S laugh, without tickling him
Reading a book without wondering at the back of my head whether it’s worth my time
Traveling somewhere I’ve never been before; ideally somewhere where I don’t speak the language
Both unplugging from social media and using it to connect with people
Device-free date nights
Feeling my baby girl move and kick
Daydreaming about moving to Japan with my family
Parenting with YY (something as mundane as drying S together after his bath makes me feel in my element, as if all the decisions I’ve made that got us to this moment were right)
So maybe what brings me joy hasn’t changed that much since becoming a mother, after all - it has expanded. Given my very introspective nature, many of the activities that have always brought me joy involve me being alone. Note: not lonely. I need time to think, to recharge, to reflect. I not only crave; I need time by myself. I often wonder if this is innate to me, or if I’ve become this way due to being an only child (hoping to answer this after some more therapy sessions). What has changed since giving birth was in fact the guilt that I now often feel whenever I do carve out time for myself. And this is what needs to be worked on.
Either way, it is honestly and unfortunately not a feeling that I desire for my children in our super-connected world. Being an introvert is often misinterpreted in both professional and social contexts; one can come off rude, shy, way too serious - all of which are not adjectives that relate to me at all. I do hope my children are happy on their own, but also that they can find joy in constantly being with others, more than their mother does.
Accepting who and how I am has been a very long journey with many ups and downs, and one which I am nowhere near reaching a final destination. But if there’s one thing I’ve recently learned is that the pursuit of joy and the road leading to accepting who I am are interdependent journeys - there is not one without the other.
It’s also a journey that goes beyond being an only child, an expat, an introvert, a mom - all things that I use ad nauseam to define, categorize, and limit myself. Oh, I’m also learning that introverts can be good parents, too, if you’ll allow them a solo cup of coffee from time to time. Through therapy and writing, I am coming to terms that finding time for my own joy while performing my motherly duties isn’t selfishness - it’s self-maintenance, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day!
To past, present and future mamas. To people who miss their mamas. To people who have a strained relationship with their mamas. To the fortunate ones who get to spend the day with their mamas. To the women who decided not to become mamas. To the men who are both papas and mamas. To everyone, really, a happy mother's day.
This time a year ago I was 7 months pregnant and I felt very much like a mother. In fact, from the moment the pregnancy test came up positive I'd felt like a mother. I worried so much, all the time, about everything. For the subsequent 36 weeks, I worried. I counted kicks for a while, tested for toxoplasmosis multiple times, meditated, attended prenatal yoga, talked and sang to S. Yet I didn't want to call it my "first Mother's day", even though I already loved and cared for my son with every fiber of my being. I was too afraid of jinxing it. When you're pregnant, people tend to ~kindly~ remind you of everything that could go wrong at every turn, and I didn't want to feed into their or my anxiety.
A couple of months later, S was born - a full-term, healthy baby boy. I couldn't be happier, and more grateful. And yet.
My mom loves recalling how, on the day I was born, I instantly stopped crying the moment they placed me on her chest. As S cried loudly after being pulled out (he was born via c-section), I waited anxiously to have him on me. I was certain he'd stop crying then, which he did. For a few seconds. Before promptly proceeding to cry as loudly as ever.
I started questioning my motherhood there and then; it had been so much easier when he was still inside of me. I had known him so intimately. With every kick, every hiccup, every song I'd sung to him we'd been brought closer together, mother and son forming an eternal bond from the womb. It just wasn't the same now that he was out. I didn't know this screaming baby, and I didn't know myself as a mother, or frankly as a person anymore, either. The unconditional love was still there, but now tainted with exhaustion, frustration, unending anxiety and so much stress. I'll tell it to anyone who'll listen, as I wish someone would've warned me: the first month postpartum was the hardest of my life. That said, it set up the path for the most rewarding of times, too.
No switch turned on at the moment he was born. It didn't feel to me like "you're a mother now", and nothing fell into place. Instead, things fell apart. I felt much less of a mother than I had while pregnant, and admittedly much less in control of my son and of my own emotions. It was up to me to pick up the pieces of my expectations and ideas I had of myself, and rebuild it all from scratch. I had so much to learn. I still have so much to learn.
The role of mother took time and practice to grow into. It also took a hefty dose of support. I wouldn't be the okay and somewhat confident mother I've become by today, 10 months later, without the unyielding support from my husband, my mom, my godmother, my dad, my family-in-law, my friends. It sure takes a village (and thank god for Skype and Whatsapp for bringing that village closer to me).
Mother's Day is a day of love, of memory, of loss, of happiness. It's a day to call your mom; it's also a day to pat yourself on the shoulder if you've become one (from birth or from practice). It isn't easy, as no one said it would be, but damn it's a wonderful thing.
So Happy Mother's Day whoever you are, wherever you are. Go call your mom, go get yourself a treat if you're a mom, go reflect on who you are because of your mother or simply be grateful for having known a mother's love. Through hardship and gratitude, mothers stand tall at the root of everything that's ever been and will ever be. After all, none of us would be here otherwise.
