• Home
  • Blog
  • About
  • Contact
  • Book
    • Email
    • Facebook
    • Instagram
    • Pinterest
    • Twitter

Brittany L. Bergman

Savoring motherhood, building marriage, and living simply

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

I Miss the Person I Thought I’d Be

May 22 Leave a Comment

Last week while I was changing Eamon’s diaper, he poked me in the eye. I hadn’t cut his nails in over a week (or maybe two weeks or three?), and his razor-sharp claw hooked me just right. My eyeball filled up with blood and I couldn’t blink without pain. My ophthalmologist couldn’t schedule a video visit, so I booked an early appointment for the next day.

Normally, this sort of thing would be a source of frustration: the ophthalmologist’s office is a thirty-minute drive from my house, and I would have had to rearrange my schedule to fit an appointment I didn’t even want to go to. I’d have to sacrifice work time or rest time just to have this teeny tiny scratch examined and then be given standard-treatment eye drops.

In the time of COVID, however, this trip to the doctor was more akin to a vacation.

Thirty minutes in the car to return Voxer messages. An hour in and out of various rooms, reading my Kindle with no children to interrupt me. A stop at the Starbucks drive-thru and then thirty more minutes in the car to listen to my favorite podcast.

After the appointment, as I turned the minivan onto my street and my house came into view, I imagined Selah leaping into my arms (after a good hand washing, of course) and Eamon covering my face with slobbery kisses. I didn’t miss my kids, exactly, but I also didn’t dread walking in the door.

It’s been a long time since I felt that way.

***

My family has been practicing social distancing for 68 days now. I’ve been in this smallish house with two very young and very demanding children for 10 weeks straight, trying to do my job while they ask for snacks and cry for attention, with just an hour “off” here and there. (Though even when my body is off the clock, my mind is definitely not.) If you’re a mom reading this, you know I’m not an outlier. This is your story too. This is our collective new normal.

My constant refrain to Dan is that I just want a chance to miss the kids. 

I was supposed to have that chance in April. Along with dozens of writer friends, I planned to attend the Festival of Faith and Writing. The festival was scheduled for just a few weeks before Eamon would turn one, and I started dreaming about it before he was even born. It would be the perfect time to wean, the perfect way to celebrate the end of a sweet but suffocating postpartum year, the perfect chance to promote my book and build energy for the next professional and creative season of my life.

I would get some much-needed space and distance from my kids, time to be both alone with my thoughts and together with my friends, and an opportunity to be the creative, put-together, sociable version of me.

It’s a version of me I haven’t seen in quite some time.

As we continue to obey stay-at-home orders, I desperately miss my extended family, my friends, and my coworkers. But what I didn’t expect to miss so much are all the other versions of me I thought would engage in the world.

This summer, I thought I’d be fun-loving, spontaneous Brittany, the version of me least likely to be seen but who comes alive on carefree days with Dan and the kids at Six Flags.

I thought I’d be creative and productive Brittany, a version of me who grabs ideas and nails them down with my computer keys, generates new essays and Instagram captions, submits work and promotes her book.

I thought I’d be shiny, well-rested, tan Brittany, a version of me who has this mom-of-two thing figured out, who has consistent childcare and time to create and work out and go on dates with her husband.

Instead I’m perpetually exhausted, resentful, quick-to-snap Brittany, a version of me who has unwashed hair and hormonal acne and rotates her yoga pants every few days once they are sufficiently covered in kid food and dog hair. It’s the version of me I was last summer, when Eamon was first born, and I never expected to be in such a similar place a full year later.

I suppose what I’m realizing is how much I rely on other people and other spaces to bring out these other versions of me. I’m an introvert, a self-preservation subtype, and an “I can do it all myself” island. 

This quarantine has shown me time and again what a fallacy I’ve built.

***

There is a set of paradoxes I keep coming back to. I walk along their edges, press against their walls, searching for a door I will not find.

  1. The person I thought I’d be this summer is an unattainable projection even under the best circumstances.
    And also: There exists a better version of me than I am right now.
  2. I am doing my best and I am enough and I am good here in this moment.
    And also: I need other people in my life in order to be the truest, fullest version of myself.

I’m not my best self right now. To expect that would be ridiculous and impossible—remember how we’re all trying to survive a global pandemic?

So instead I’m trying (and sometimes failing) to show up as a decent version of Brittany, one who doesn’t yell at her kids for simply being kids, who remembers what’s most important and prioritizes effectively and lives from her values and asks for help.

But honestly, I’d settle for the version who misses her kids.


This post was written as part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to read the next post in this series “Together, Apart.”

Share the love:

  • Share
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)

Related

Filed Under: Life, Motherhood Tagged With: covid-19, family, freedom, isolation, motherhood, relationships

« Finding My Way Home
The First Year, The Second Time »




I'm so glad you're here. This space is all about encouraging women to live simply and intentionally, savor motherhood, choose gratitude, and find sacredness in the everyday moments. I hope you'll grab your cuppa choice and stay a while. I'd love to get to know you.
  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter
Do you want to be more intentional about how you mother and how you care for yourself?
Subscribe today for encouragement and support!


brittanylbergman

Brittany L. Bergman
The last day of school hit different this year. 💔 My tears at kindergarten graduation were not about how my first baby is growing up too fast. They were tears of gratitude that she’s growing up at all—something that should not feel spectacular, but does.

Swipe for some first day/last day comparisons and an outtake that I adore. 💜
There was a huge, complete rainbow outside Eamon’s bedroom window after his birthday party, and I can’t think of a better celestial celebration for our rainbow baby/big boy. 🌈
Our little Eamon baby is 3! 🎉 Though he will be Our little Eamon baby is 3! 🎉 Though he will be the first to tell you that he is not a baby—he is Eamon Boy, and he is a big kid.

Eamon is sweet and wild and silly and will do anything for a laugh, instantly charming everyone he meets. He is just as likely to tackle you as he is to request a hug and a kiss.

Eamon talks all the time and stretches out the last word of every sentence like it’s a question, but he also loves to communicate with roars and growls. No surface or object is safe around him, as he climbs and jumps off everything and will declare anything from a pillow to a plate his “rock” and throw it like he’s an Earth Giant in Frozen (we’re working on it).

He is obsessed with Dan, smitten with Selah, and thinks I’m just okay, at best—but he is my best buddy if the other two are unavailable.

This past year, Eamon went to Six Flags, Lake Geneva, and Disney World, and he has mastered his balance bike. Basically, he always wants to go fast and/or get as close to flying as possible.

Eamon, you are pure joy and delight, the brightest ray of sunshine, and the dreamiest rainbow baby. Happy birthday, my sweet boy! ☀️🌈💜
Or, “What does it say about me that the first po Or, “What does it say about me that the first poem I’ve written in a year is a list of things that make up my personal hell and I actually had to cut this down because I had so many/too many thoughts on the topic?” It’s fine, everything is fine.
This year was absolutely brutal. It also facilitat This year was absolutely brutal. It also facilitated some of the best decisions of my life, many born out of deep pain. Starting a new job, because the old one no longer fit. Getting vaccinated, to protect myself and others as we muddle through another pandemic year. All but quitting writing and social media, because I simply didn’t want to do it anymore. Most importantly, starting on Zoloft, because I needed it desperately. Those tiny blue pills quite literally saved my life.

The first half of 2021 was one of my darkest seasons, and the second half—thanks to modern medicine and my own intuition and the possibility of remote work, thanks to Selah starting kindergarten and me taking care of myself and being able to look at my kids and truly delight in them for the first time in a long time—was one of my happiest ever.

Holding both halves tenderly as we cross this next threshold. 💜
Selah Marie is 6! She started kindergarten this ye Selah Marie is 6! She started kindergarten this year and firmly entered world of big kids. Her confidence in every area has skyrocketed, from climbing her new playground to sounding out words to talking to new friends. She blows us away every day with her kind heart, generous spirit, and innate sense of empathy. She is tenderhearted, curious, affectionate, and hard to impress, and we adore her more every day. Happy birthday, Selah! 🧁 🎉 💜
Load More... Follow on Instagram

Disclaimer

Brittany L Bergman is a for-profit blog. Any company that I collaborate with is chosen by me and fits the theme and readership of my blog. At times, posts may contain affiliate links or sponsored content, which is never at any charge to you.

Archives

Copyright Brittany L Bergman © 2022
Blog Design + Development by Grace + Vine Studios

This website uses cookies to provide you with the best browsing experience.

Find out more or adjust your settings.

Brittany L. Bergman
Powered by  GDPR Cookie Compliance
Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies so that we can provide you with the best user experience possible. Cookie information is stored in your browser and performs functions such as recognizing you when you return to our website and helping our team to understand which sections of the website you find most interesting and useful.

You can adjust all of your cookie settings by navigating the tabs on the left hand side.

Strictly Necessary Cookies

Strictly Necessary Cookie should be enabled at all times so that we can save your preferences for cookie settings.

If you disable this cookie, we will not be able to save your preferences. This means that every time you visit this website you will need to enable or disable cookies again.