River has been teething for the past few days and the clinginess is on a whole new level. If the lack of sleep and toxic blowouts don’t kill me, the never ending mountain of laundry taking over my bedroom corner will!
The constant need for distraction, the runny nose, the drool covered everything, the pulling up and falling, the need to chew on everything, the snot in my 8 day dirty mom bun, the full-to-the-brim dishwasher, the almost empty fridge, the carpet that desperately needs to be vacuumed but we don’t have a vacuum, the unfinished kitchen table, the rescheduled-for-the-3rd-time OB check up, the house warming party in 4 days, the birthday party of the year in less than a month that planning hasn’t begun for, the guest room (aka: catch all room, anxiety dungeon, den of no return, etc.) overflowing with who knows what to be sorted through; just a few of the items on my list that never ends.
I wonder what life would be like if I had less to do. Would I shower more often? Would I experiment with crafts or baking?Would I become the next Martha Stewart and create garden art out of junk? Would I always remember deodorant? Would I never forget to put on clean underwear? Would I have a 9-5 day job? Oh my gosh….. Ah! A JOB! What on earth would I do if I had to work all day and then come home to this insane list that never ends because #thecallofmotherhood?!
Then I remember, I have a partner. I have a husband who can’t wait to walk in the door and relive some of my stress. I have a man who is always willing to lend a hand wherever it’s needed. I have a shoulder to cry on and complain about “how unfair my day has been” and “how dirty I am but too tired to care”. I have an ear that will listen, a voice that will encourage and a heart that will forever love me despite my whining.
What would I do without him? Where would I be if I had to conquer each day alone? How would I sleep at night, knowing the next day was going to be just me, myself and I taking on the life that laid before me?
What would it be like to be a single parent?
This question had been on my heart for several weeks now and I’ve been thinking of all the people in my life that do my job AND MORE all by themselves.
One person in particular is my dear friend, Kayla. I “met” Kayla through Instagram around 6 months ago and have loved watching her wisdom unfold before me. She and her little boy Tad are a total treat! I love seeing their adventures on my feed. Though she be but 20 years young, she is wise beyond her years and could teach me (and you) a thing or two about what motherhood is really all about.
I texted her a few weeks ago and asked if she’d be willing to share a little bit about herself and how she came to be a single parent. I approached her because unlike so many I come in contact with, she has never allowed being a single parent define her. So many take single parenting and turn it into a crutch. They let it take over and consume their whole life instead of allowing their past to remain a memory instead of a reality. Of course being a single parent is a reality but it doesn’t have to be a monster.
Kayla had this to share…
“I was standing at an airport terminal, waiting to board a flight back to Houston to gather the remaining contents of my bedroom before I started my freshman year of college. My hand rested lightly on the space just below my belly button, where a tiny baby grew. My phone buzzed repeatedly in my pant’s pocket with texts in equal numbers from my mother and my boyfriend, who I had known since I was thirteen-years-old. He was questioning our entire lives: where we would live, how we would make money, if we should still go to school. I had already decided what I wanted. It wasn’t more than two days later that I knew where we both stood. He wanted to go to school, and I wanted to carry our baby. There were choice words expressed. Things like, “You’re faking a pregnancy to get out of going to school” and “You have no proof that you’re pregnant. You probably got the photo of the test off of the internet.” In the end, he told me to never speak to him again, and I obeyed his wishes. I haven’t spoken to him since.
The initial question for this story was: When did you officially know you were alone, and how has it affected you?
I will say that throughout this journey, I have never been alone. There has been more support for my lifestyle than I could have ever imagined. In a way, I feel I have an even more special family because I have gotten to handpick who they are. However, the answer to that initial question is this: My son was six-months-old. We had gone back to our hometown for its annual fall festival, and we happened to run into his father. We stood about ten feet apart, looking at each other directly for about 30 seconds. Then he walked away, and I knew that I was alone. That sounds so serious and heavy! The best part about this story is that I am living with the happiest feelings I have ever felt. That’s not saying a lot because I’m only 20 – what do I know yet, but I look at other people my age who are going through their second and third years of college and they hate it. They have no idea what their purpose is yet, and I have had my purpose.
I made my purpose with my body.
The most noticeable affect single motherhood has had on me is my confidence. I now feel that I am a woman, an incredible, powerful woman. Nothing makes me beam more with pride than when I think of my son, and that I am the one that he calls mother. I get it now, as do all parents. You create your children, and they, in turn, create you. I love my body now. Some days, not so much. I look at the stress acne on my forehead, the bags under my eyes, the unnecessary amount of stretch marks on my belly, butt, and thighs, and I sigh wondering if it will ever be the way it once was. But that quickly goes away. I don’t worry about it anymore because I have better things to do with my time. My image is so much more than the way I look, the way others perceive me. I want them now to think of my willpower and gentleness, my love for books and herbs; I want them to think of the colors white and green, and smell earth when they see me. I want to become a character and not ever be called “pretty” ever again.
Motherhood has shown me who I truly want to emulate, who I want to show to my son, who I am. Above all things, I fear the future. What will I tell my boy when he asks where his father is? How could I ever tell him that the man who helped create him never wanted him? It’s something that I lie awake at night wondering about, only to quickly shove it back into the corners of my mind. I fear the day that I marry, that I have another child. I fear the day that my first born enters young adulthood and blames me for his father not being around. I fear the day he asks me if I still love his father, if we will ever see him again.
I don’t know all of the answers to these questions; I hope someday that I do.
I will never be the person to complain about raising my child without a partner. It is something that has always been in my mind, and we are now lucky enough to have the choice of who we let into our lives. I am stronger and weaker than I once knew; this lifestyle is almost one that I can hardly stand to give up. I am learning everyday to let a new man love my child and myself with the same abandon I feel for my son. It’s hard, but it’s not a crutch. Far from it.”
“I made my purpose with my body.” What beauty; what strength. When I read those words, I wept. All of a sudden, the items on my ever growing list seemed insignificant and childish. To have that mindset at such a young age is mind blowing and completely wrecked me for several minutes. To know the honor or parenthood, to face it alone and to still see it all as a privilege… speechless.
“It takes a village.” is one of the truest statements ever made about motherhood/fatherhood/parenthood. Simply put, parenthood is easier together. It’s not a competition nor is it a war between sides. It isn’t a game of “who’s right and who’s wrong” and though it can be done, it isn’t a battle fought well alone.
So let’s be in battle together.
Let’s listen more and be slow to give our opinion as if it’s the only one that matters. Let’s stop assuming age defines our level of wisdom. Let’s create an environment our children can be proud of. Let’s lean on each other without fear of judgment or ridicule. Let’s be more salt and light and less death and hate. Let’s be a village instead of a commune of one.
Forever joyful,
Mama Bithell
mamabithell 