I’m beginning to think that maybe this blog should be titled highs and lows of being a parent rather than expat life. I feel like once you have kids you can never make your own decision again based on what you or your partner want – everything revolves around the boy. Your mindset and thinking changes completely and in so many ways you understand your own parents and their decisions better.
I’ve written about the loss of my mum before here and I don’t want to be a broken record. I don’t know if it was because I gave birth two weeks before she passed or if I would feel the same way if Michael had been older but my grieving seems to be taking longer than I expected. She will be two years gone in August and I still miss her desperately at times.
It will hit me out of nowhere. I will just be driving down the street or doing my grocery shopping and something will trigger it. A song, a smell, an item of food and I will struggle to catch my breath. There’s a lump at the back of my throat that I can’t swallow and my legs go weak. It seems silly – death is something that everybody experiences. I feel like I should be able to control the situation better, deal with things in a more mindful way and focus on the positives. But the truth is, I miss her. I feel like I need her more than ever now that I’m a Mom. I feel hard done by at times and envious of those that still have their parents for advice. So many times I want to pick up the phone to call her and ask about a cough or a fever, how to get him to eat, tell her his new words and the funny stories. It makes me sad to think about everything that he will miss out on by not ever having her in his life. I know I’m blessed that she hung on to life to meet him and held him as he was baptised but when I close my image that mental image doesn’t always bring me to the best place. Even telling her I was pregnant makes me swallow hard when I recall it. Her tears. The realisation that she probably wasn’t going to be around for this grandchild. Her happiness that this has happened for myself and Rob and that anxiety over our ability to have children could be put to rest for the time being. It can at times just bring a sadness to my heart and mind that makes it difficult to lift.
I’ve had to grief before. I thought I knew what it meant. It looks like this time its harder and longer because I’m now a mother myself. I love my little boy more than anything, he brings unbelievable joy to my life. I love how when I pick him up in the morning and he says “Mammy,”at the top of his lungs excitedly and leans in to hug me and blow me a kiss before escaping out of my arms to run for his toys. I’m happy. I just never realised how missing someone so much can overshadow the greatest happiness I’ve ever experienced.
highsandlowsofexpatlife 