We swore up, down and sideways that we were NOT doing this paperchase thing again, that two was a great number, and if God chose to give us a third one, he'd have to do it the regular way. And now, despite tearing our hair out and being exhausted, we still have managed to sneak a sideways glance recently and go ... maybe someday? Maybe an older child once these two are school-age? But I suspect that's just the lack of sleep talking - it's hard to stop, I agree, no matter how determined you are beforehand, and I think that if we sensibly stop at two, I will feel some lingering sadness for whoever didn't join us. And regardless of the peace I've made with how we made our family, and recognition of the benefits and 'prices' of both adoption and birth, I still sometimes feel sad that we never got to do it the other way.
It seems (and I could be wrong) that at the heart of what's troubling you right now is a clash between what you saw in your head and heart for much of your life, and how things Really Ended Up. That's challenging for anyone, and it can be tough to figure out if you can still make it happen some other way, or if you need to reform the dream. (This reminds me of an allegory I read once, about having a disabled child. You dream of going to France all your life, you pack and you plan and you study and you get on the plane, and when you land, you are told "Welcome to Holland". First you must deal with your grief and disbelief that you will not go to France after all, and then you must learn to see all the wonderful things that ARE in Holland, and appreciate it for what it is, rather than what it's not.
However, having said that, and recognizing that it's a reasonable allegory - I think it would be damn hard to ever forget that loss, so I think that your wibbles over job and motherhood and identity in general, in those areas that are different from the ideal you had in mind, I think it's a perfectly understandable struggle. (As for me - I suspect part of my "I want to be a mom" as the sole goal was partly because there was nothing else I could think of that I *really* wanted to do, and if I was a SAHM, I didn't have to keep trying to think of something else. And I DID definitely want to be a mom, but to want nothing more for that reason is, well, kind of sad, really. I think it's great you want more for yourself.)
And now that I've rambled a lot and said nothing useful, I'll wrap up by saying I *do* think you're a wonderful mother, from everything I've seen, and I can only hope to aspire to that. I know when people tell me such things, I only think "Yeah, well, they don't really see me day to day" so perhaps you'll feel the same about my praise. But I *do* admire you, the way you go the extra mile to teach and shepherd your daughters, and they sound like they've responded beautifully.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-10 02:05 am (UTC)It seems (and I could be wrong) that at the heart of what's troubling you right now is a clash between what you saw in your head and heart for much of your life, and how things Really Ended Up. That's challenging for anyone, and it can be tough to figure out if you can still make it happen some other way, or if you need to reform the dream. (This reminds me of an allegory I read once, about having a disabled child. You dream of going to France all your life, you pack and you plan and you study and you get on the plane, and when you land, you are told "Welcome to Holland". First you must deal with your grief and disbelief that you will not go to France after all, and then you must learn to see all the wonderful things that ARE in Holland, and appreciate it for what it is, rather than what it's not.
However, having said that, and recognizing that it's a reasonable allegory - I think it would be damn hard to ever forget that loss, so I think that your wibbles over job and motherhood and identity in general, in those areas that are different from the ideal you had in mind, I think it's a perfectly understandable struggle. (As for me - I suspect part of my "I want to be a mom" as the sole goal was partly because there was nothing else I could think of that I *really* wanted to do, and if I was a SAHM, I didn't have to keep trying to think of something else. And I DID definitely want to be a mom, but to want nothing more for that reason is, well, kind of sad, really. I think it's great you want more for yourself.)
And now that I've rambled a lot and said nothing useful, I'll wrap up by saying I *do* think you're a wonderful mother, from everything I've seen, and I can only hope to aspire to that. I know when people tell me such things, I only think "Yeah, well, they don't really see me day to day" so perhaps you'll feel the same about my praise. But I *do* admire you, the way you go the extra mile to teach and shepherd your daughters, and they sound like they've responded beautifully.
*stumbles off to bed*