40 weeks in, 40 weeks out

This week marks Dylan living on the outside in this world for the same amount of time he lived inside my womb. With that comes a tinge of nostalgia and a lot continued reflection that's been happening through the duration of his life on this earth and before his existence.

With motherhood has come the expected emotions, the expected highs and lows, the expected love, the indescribable depth of that love, and many unexpected feelings as well.

I think back to Harrison being born, well over three years ago, and how over the course of the first year of his life I felt a sense of loneliness that I had never felt before.

It's a loneliness that arrived slowly and unexpectedly. Some of it happened due to the city I live in- people are always coming and going, so many of my closest friends moved out of state in the months after Harrison was born. Some of it happened because Jeremy and I are the only family we have out here in Los Angeles. Each of our sets of parents and all of our siblings live in different states, and raising our family away from the families we grew up with started to wear on me (and wears on me still to this day). Some of it happened because I declined invitations to events that didn't feel feasible to me; driving with a newborn who doesn't like his car seat was not always worth the effort, or going to a party that started at 9pm just didn't really work for me anymore (not that it ever really did, but I made it work pre-parenthood), and invitations to said get togethers became less and less frequent.

The day Dylan came into existence- like the exact day of "sperm meets egg" type of existence, the day of a miracle happening in my body while I was completely unaware until weeks later and could only pinpoint by looking back on my calendar- was a day wrought with a lot of difficult emotion. I was dealt a large blow that I'm sure didn't feel like anything to those who inadvertently dealt it, and I spent much of the day holding back tears when I thought of it, or trying to get it out of my mind so that I wouldn't feel so upset. It felt like the loneliest of lonely days, and it felt like any energy I had left to pull together the withering threads of my dwindling community was pointless. In my mind, no one had my family's back, and I was personally friend-less.

Motherhood without community is hard. Life without community is hard.

Dylan grew in my womb and my body nourished him. Harrison continued to grow and learn and thrive and frequently kissed my belly "for baby," and I delighted in him and my growing baby. I was in awe, and I was happy, on that level of motherhood and life.

I made efforts to find community. I reached out to people best I could and tried to set up playdates. I joined an app that was basically Tinder for moms, and then ghosted the few that I made contact with (is that the correct term? Hah.) I was having a hard time figuring out how to find solid friendships that could be beneficial. I wanted fun friendships, but I was also trying to dig deep to find what I knew I needed most- people I could relate to, people with similar values, people who understood the phase of life I was in, because they were in it too. It was really difficult for me, 87% percent introvert and all. I found myself unable to carry a conversation with anyone- old friends, acquaintances, new friends- I spent all day catering to the conversations and needs of my toddler and I was tired and felt like I lost any adult conversation skills I might have previously had.

Shortly before Dylan was born, a friend of mine asked me something along the lines of what my greatest hesitancy was about being Mom to two kids. I was truthful and said I was afraid of feeling even more lonely.

Dylan was born and we had friends visit and bring food and help and I was so grateful. I was never really void of friendships, but void of deep relationships. And then Dylan got a little bit older and I learned how to manage a baby and a toddler, and the newness was over, and Jeremy went back to work, and I went back to feeling lonely and trying to figure out how to fill my days and what I could do to care for my children and care for my relationship needs.

I've been reflecting on this more this week than ever, because now at this nostalgic 40 weeks in / 40 weeks out Dylan and I have reached, I am feeling for the first time in years that I have finally found the community I've been needing.

My social cup is more full than it's been in years. My "people I can relate to" cup is more full than it's been in years. I found people I can talk with without feeling awkward. I found people with similar parenting styles, similar interests. Different ones too, and it still works. I've re-connected with old friends and current friends and have made more of an effort to see them, pushing myself out of my "wait and see" comfort zone and instead being forthcoming about setting up time to be together with our kids. I just committed last night to joining an informal co-op, a group of parents and kids with a loosely structured morning together once a week. I discovered Free Forest School and the boys and I have been thoroughly enjoying our beach days with them and have been dipping our toes into park days as well.

I feel like I reached such a low at the very beginning of Dylan's 40 weeks in, and find it interesting that this journey has gotten to the opposite point at 40 weeks out. I like the cyclicality of it, even through the difficulty. I'm just at the beginning of feeling like I have something good going on in terms of community, and I'm excited to see where it takes me and Harrison and Dylan over the course of the next little while. I'm excited when I wake up in the  mornings because I know each day of Jeremy's work-week is going to involve doing life with people who I want to invest my time in, and the energy seems mutual. I feel more confident as a mother and more confident as an individual. When the days feel long with Harrison and Dylan, it is easier to stay patient and calm and gentle.

Motherhood with community is easier. Life with community is easier. Let's do this.


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Also just to get technical, since pregnancy is measured from the start of the mother's last monthly cycle, rather than the whole sperm-meets-egg phenomenon that happens 10-16ish days later, and I have been referring to the latter, it's actually been something more like 38 weeks + 3 days in, 38 weeks + 3 days out with Dylan. 40 + 40 reads better, so there you have it.