I awoke this morning from a very elaborate dream in which I learn I am pregnant, with medical complications, probably with a girl. I realize that I will need hand me downs in EVERY department - not just girl stuff, as my friends presume, but EVERYTHING, as I have already given everything baby related away.
Once awake, I realized why this has happened. There is nothing like the first day of school to remind you that there are no more babies in the house, nobody even resembling a baby in sight.
About 90 minutes later, Isaac started second grade. Sam gently let me know that he is, at age 9 1/2, too old to pose for a picture in front of school. But Sam did pose quite cheerfully at home, which is more than I can say for Max, who at 7:03, and one month before his 16th birthday, stormed out of the house with his own self-made breakfast and lunch, mumbling something about being behind schedule.
Over the past few years, I've generally been either mildly or very disappointed after awaking from pregnancy dreams, once I realize they're not real. Some of my friends have chosen not to have children. Others continue to have more children. Sometimes I get wistful about not having a daughter. But my childbirth days are over.
When we arrived at school today, there were Isaac's classmates' moms - one was pushing a stroller and another was bulging dramatically in the midsection. But I found that even while reporting my dream to a friend there in the school parking lot, I felt at peace, finally, with having reached this stage of life, with all my kids eating solid food and dressing themselves and living increasingly independent lives.
"Why is that?", I had to wonder to myself. "What has changed?" Then I recalled a girlfriend's words to me earlier in the day, when I told her that Paul might lose his job and that we might have to move. "But you can't leave - your life has just become so rich!" she exclaimed. And that is it, precisely. When I was having babies, I was utterly consumed by them - both literally, while nursing, and afterwards, with managing their rapidly developing persons. I poured a prodgious amount of energy into them each and every day. I still worked when I could, painting, teaching, sewing and writing, but my focus was outwards, or in the case of my memoir, backwards, and I did not take time to consider who I was becoming and what I most wanted to do with my time. I did not look inwards.
But now, with my youngest in second grade, I have had time to get back in touch with myself and I have had the chance to discover who I have evolved into while my attention was elsewhere. In the period since Isaac began going to school for a full day, I have taken up yoga and meditation and journaling. I have taken more time for my friendships with other women, who act as sounding boards. I joined a three year long women's collaborative that explores, during intense, week-long sessions issues of self, both as individuals and members of communities, as well as helping to ferret out our deepest desires for personal fulfillment. As a result of all these changes, yes, my life has been very much enriched. I like spending time with me, for me, taking myself further down my path.
Tomorrow, I think my boys are going to take the bus to school, for the first time. They are excited to be growing up, and I am able to let them and to share their joy. Besides, I've got stuff to do.
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