No one wants to feel alone

 

I first wrote this over ten years ago. I was in the throes of new momdom and since then, I've bumbled and by grace, have learned a few things along the way. One thing is for sure, parenthood is a wild ride. I decided to go ahead and publish these decade-old thoughts in the hope that perhaps one person can relate or feel less alone. Solidarity, sisters. 

Original post 4/2/2014

In motherhood, I've discovered this odd loneliness unlike any other I've encountered before. It's a new type of isolation with which previously I was unfamiliar. One where for me, being surrounded by others going through the same life stage has been a spectrum of "I totally get where you are coming from and empathize with you" to "I have no idea what planet you're on, but you're doing everything wrong...or if not everything, then most things." The former I have found occurs more frequently with moms of several kiddos. The ones who have been around the block for awhile and have seen a thing or two. The latter typically is paired with a scowl or look of total contempt by people who have babies who sleep through the night, rarely get sick, don't flinch when they get their shots, and developmentally are several weeks ahead of their peers. I will go on the record to say that I am happy these parents have these experiences and would never wish a sick or challenging little one on anyone. However, when these parents stare in disgust at my baby when his reflux is acting up, it's hard for me to feel especially gracious. Not really my idea of a good recipe for bonding, I'll be honest.

I've decided that it's one thing to feel lonely when I am actually alone and feel like no one around me "gets it." Like trying to explain graduate school to my family and my in-laws. Now though, to be surrounded by others who are in the trenches of same-life-stage with me and to still feel misunderstood among the "others," is a new kind of lonely for me. Sometimes I wonder if anyone else ever feels this way. I wonder if any other mom goes to zoo, gets to the opposite end of the park just as her child peaks in a major vomit-laden meltdown, decides it is time to go (all the way back up the mile long 75 degree incline to the exit), says her goodbyes to the group of other moms she met up with, and secretly wishes someone had walked with her...because that kind of loneliness is something REAL and kind of sad. Thinking about it now, I think that's ultimately what it comes down to. I just want to walk with others. And in return, I want them to walk with me. Literally and symbolically. Sometimes I wonder if anyone else wants a sisterhood in this marathon trek of motherhood--especially the Stay at home kind of motherhood.