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I want to add to what I wrote yesterday ~ I want to speak to the immense amount of support I received to get from where i was to where I am.
that if my parents hadn't sent me some cash, without knowing what it was for, I couldn't have made my exile from the order, as swiftly as I was able. If my sister hadn't given me a soft landing spot in Portland, I wouldn't have had anywhere to go. If my brother hadn't called me every day, I wouldn't have had any companionship along the way. If it weren't for the kindness of my work mates, when I broke down to pieces and couldn't leave my house, I would have felt more shame than I already did. If my other brother and sister in love hadn't let me stay at their home indefinitely, I wouldn't have been stable enough to try to build my life back up. If my friend hadn't held me after having an anxiety attack, I may have taken extreme measures to soothe my ache. If I hadn't met the raddest group of solo mamas, I wouldn't have EVER known my options or taken the plunge. If my bestie hadn't called me at the perfect time from overseas to check in on me when I was making the final decisions about attempting to conceive, I may not have had the courage. If my dearest little G hadn't been here for the start of my darkest hour postpartum, we may not have survived. There are so many more "ifs and wouldn't haves" to say, and maybe I'll keep saying them as time passes. All this to now say, it takes a fucking village, y'all & I want my village to know I see you, I know you, I love you, and I will always know you are woven into the fabric of my being & our story.
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Yesterday marked six years that I left the order. Six years ago I packed up my car with only what I could carry and i left the spiritual group I’d dedicated my heart & soul to for the previous 14 years. I knew, because the culture of the group was such, that my leaving meant I would lose everyone I’d known and loved. For two weeks they’d been hammering away at my heart and mind. It was time to go. i was done with the controlling, alienating, and abusive ways & needed to find myself again
I’d been estranged from my family for a decade and had no idea if they’d welcome me back. I would drive for seven days, on my way to Portland; shaken, sad, but certain. Every day, I heard from my brother who was my lifeline along the journey. My mother would die six months later and in comfort & confusion, I would walk the Camino de Santiago with her ashes. I would fall in love & have my heart broken. I would try to find my joy through others & fail every time. I would start writing again. Haiku would color my pages and then the city streets. I would admit to myself that I couldn’t wait any longer to answer the call of my soul to become a mother. I would take a leap and attempt pregnancy and on my first try, conceive a powerhouse of a girl. I would almost die birthing that girl. Despite years of celibacy, years of saying no to what was always the biggest yes of all, motherhood won out.#bisonbutterflyblog #singlemom#motherhood #startingover  I broke today. My baby wouldn't nap and there's a slew of things that happened that drove me down a rabbit hole and broke my spirit. I'm not one of those people who's baby goes down easy. It's a process every time. Every nap, every night. Bouncing, singing, nursing, swaying, pleading, begging, demanding, giving up. She's also not the kid that I can put down and have a couple hours to do things. Sometimes, a lot of times, I'm nap trapped. But it's ok ~ I read, rest, fold laundry, watch something, post something.... I've gotten used to it and for the most part, I enjoy the break.
But that's just it, when the break doesn't come, I feel gypped. Like part of my day got taken from me and I get mad about it. And then I feel like an asshole for being mad. Because who am I mad at? My baby? Myself? Yes & yes. In the middle of it all today, I texted a friend to share what was happening because I felt so alone and I didn't want to despair. It helped. She validated me, assured me what I was doing was best for me and my daughter (I had put her in the crib and went downstairs to catch my breath). We were both safe and both crying but we were both fine. This picture is from last year, less than four weeks after she was born. We were walking in the park and she got hungry. I was in the wrong shirt (ie no boob access) and we were several blocks from home. There was no way to hold her and maneuver my clothes to gain boob access so I had to put her down. The tree trunk seemed the safest place. Then I walked home, nursing. My wrong shirt pulled up over my chest. We can't always be prepared ~ we'll do everything right and the circumstances will still go south. I'm trying to breathe into Welcome to the re-igniting of my writing life. For the past year I've *thought* a lot about writing. I've squeezed out a few poems, worked on my haiku manuscript (which is on hold till I have the money to pay for my editor to hack away at it), and made a few leather goodies. I have a memoir in the works about my life after the order and a children's book that needs an illustrator. Besides that I've been busy parenting my beloved 1 year old, working full time, and connecting with the village that has formed around me this past year. People I never dreamed would leave my life are gone & others I dreamed awake, have now joined us.
I'm going to talk about parenting & mothering on these pages and just plain life. You're going to read me toggle between using the term "single parent" and "solo parent" and just plain "parent" because I feel like it. Sometimes I'm going to talk about being a single mother, which is another perspective in my eyes, different than a single parent. I'm an expert on me and us and don't claim to know you or what's best for anyone but us (and that's a mystery sometimes.) These pages are me giving me an outlet to speak up what I feel, know, see, and strive to understand. I also want to bring life back into this website ~ BisonButterfly was a baby I adored and it's calling me back and asking for more. I hear you BB. So we'll see. Together. Where this goes or if anyone (namely me), cares. And from that place of caring, we'll fly. |
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