For the Moment

Six months after Mallorie was born, I found myself in a dark place. Mentally, emotionally, physically. My relationship with my husband was crumbling. I was hard on Morgan, who was only two and a half years old. I'm pretty sure I kicked the dog a few times in frustration when he wouldn't move out of the way fast enough....and in the small square footage of our duplex, his 70-pound frame was underfoot more often than not.

In that gloomy period, I was often able to stand back as if outside of my body looking in. Wondering if that was really me. The me I knew to be a happy child, an outgoing college student. The me I remembered from pre-motherhood and maybe even pre-veterinary school years.

I still have moments when the clouds descend and the weight of the blues rests heavily on my shoulders. Thankfully, those moments are not as low and do not last as long as that rock-bottom February of years ago. A forgiving husband, solid friendships, sessions with a counselor and anti-depressant medication allowed me to climb out of the ravine to higher ground. My inner desire to be the kind of mom my children deserve and some sort of self-preservation nudged me (then and now) when the going was/is tough.

Recently, I have had moments "outside myself" when I catch myself smiling - at Spencer's antics at the table, the sight of our red barn set against the glow of the sunset, the smell of the mint on the morning breeze that floats through the open window. Giggling at the sound of my children's laughter from the other room, of hearing Mallorie sing song after song while doing her business in the bathroom. Of Morgan's enthusiasm for science/bugs/dinosaurs or my own sense of accomplishment when personal goals have been met for the day. Feeling grateful when I wake in the morning and my right hand isn't numb from the night's sleep. Tonight, I am sitting peacefully on the back deck, the smell of recent rain washing over me, the muffled sound of the freeway and crickets in the background. Darwin has left off trying to get me to throw the ball and is resting on the ground near my chair.

For the moment, the stresses of today and impending ones of tomorrow are silent. It's good to have me back.