Being A Stay-at-Home-Parent Isn't For Me
I didn’t know that I was ever allowed to say aloud that being a stay at home parent isn’t the role for me. The strangest part in that, is that it doesn’t necessarily feels like it comes from an expectation from anyone in my own personal life, but rather some deep ancestral pull that isn’t allowing me to admit that to myself or anyone else.
On top of all of that, being we chose to create a family that expands outside of just the two of us, I felt weighted down by the made up truth that being a stay at home mom was my responsibility, and that there’s nothing else I can do about it at that point.
Even though the balance is near impossible to strike, I’m slowly but surely learning that I am not ancestrally-responsible to tackle being a stay at home parent all alone, and on top of that, I am allowed to--and supported in--the desire to simultaneously pursue all the creative entrepreneurial pursuits that have always felt like home to me.
Truth be told, there are days where I long to be that person who really sinks into their role as a stay at home parent; eager to embrace all aspects of the rewarding and tirelessly challenging journey that comes along with raising children. I’ve walked a small sliver of that path for the first six months of Birdy’s life while Mark was still at his full time job—prior to the pivotal point in my own struggle with postpartum depression—where every waking minute was given to keeping a baby alive and well. Granted, there were so many other aspects happening all at once for me during that time; but if nothing else during those unbelievably dark days, I gained a little bit more insight about myself, whether I wanted it or not.
If there was a way that I could take a pill and become another person entirely—one who doesn’t feel suffocated at the thought of never being able to work again, or who steps into that parenthood power with a calmness and heart of unwavering grace and powerful moments of strength—I would love to be able to fully settle into that space for a little while; but the older Birdy becomes, the more I’m being aware that wishing away who I am for someone that I am not, doesn’t fulfill the paths that we have all chosen for ourselves. By limiting pieces of who I know myself to be in order to try and be someone I am not, I am deserving the contract that Birdy’s soul made with my own long before her journey to Earth.