Loss of Self

After Ben died, I went to see a psychologist.  Who by the way is the most wonderful person, she is just amazing.  She came to see me at home while I was on bedrest and has sent me the most beautiful emails full of support and encouragement.  I wish I could actually post them, I might ask her.  And who reads my blog (told you I was totally out the closet).

She explained something to me that made so much sense.  After Ben died, one of the hardest things for me to deal with was feeling so desperately sad all the time.  That sounds odd perhaps, but it totally freaked me out that I was so sad.  I just wanted to stop being sad, at all costs.  I was so scared that I would be this sad person forever.  Who was this version of Tertia?  This sad, broken Tertia.  I didn’t know this person, I didn’t like this person.  Would I ever be the fun, outgoing, joking Tertia again?  Who was I?  It freaked me out.  I asked my psychologist why I was like this, and she said it was a fear of a loss of self, which is a big thing.  After all, if you lose your sense of self, of who you are, then who are you, your whole world has no anchor, no reference point?

And that just made so much sense to me.  I was so scared that the old Tertia was lost forever, the fun, happy one.  I didn’t want to become Sad Tertia.  People wouldn’t like Sad Tertia, she would be alone and lonely, forever.  We worked through that and I realized that while I probably couldn’t ever go back to the old Tertia exactly in its previous form, the one pre-Ben, and nor would I want to, the new Tertia could be even better than before.  Still fun, happy and joking, but now with parts of Ben that made me even better.  Softer, more compassionate.  Tertia, but More.

Learning that this fear of a loss of self is a real and legitimate thing to go through also helped me understand what I went through the first few months after getting married.  I am not sure if you went through this as well, I suppose it depends if you got married early or late, but a few of my friends also went through this.

I wanted to get married, I was 30 and not only was the timing perfect, but I had met the perfect man.  However, after I got married, probably month 2 to 3’ish, I went through a bit of an identity crisis.  I thought ‘who am I?’  I had gone from fun, flirty Tertia who, to be honest, defined herself by her attractiveness, sexiness and flirty’ness to this Wife person, who wasn’t supposed to flirt, right? If I wasn’t that person then who the hell was I?  I could still be attractive to others, I could probably still flirt a bit (flirting is like breathing, you have to do it to stay alive), but things had changed.  That air of raw sexual attraction towards other men couldn’t be part of my personality any more.  Well it could I suppose, but I didn’t want it to be.  I was Marko’s wife and that was no longer appropriate or who I wanted to be.  And so I was at a loss for a while.  If I wasn’t attractive with that sexual edge any more, then what was I?  Would I be this bland, grey wife-person?  A cardboard copy of millions of others?  I had to change my sense of self and I did, and I far liked the new Tertia than the old (who by the way is still gorgeous and divine, but no longer with that overt sexual thing).  But it took me a while and for a month or two I felt really lost.

I am going through a similar change in how I define myself.  I think this is what I was alluding to, in part, a while ago when I said I am struggling with the transition from infertile Tertia to mother Tertia.  Letting go and moving on has been difficult, it requires yet another redefinition of who I am.  This morning at five, when I was supposed to be squeezing in the last few minutes of sleep, I was lying in bed thinking about my life, about where I am and I realized that once again my life has shifted direction quite radically.  The old Tertia has gone, forever.  The Tertia who came first, or second to her husband, has gone.  My role is now as mother is one where, for the rest of my life, I will have to put the needs of others (my children and husband) before mine.  And it is what I want.  I want this life.  But I will be honest and say I was a little sad to say goodbye to the Tertia who came first, Tertia the child, Tertia the wife.  Tertia the mother is the most important job I have to do now, for at least the next couple of years.  Yes I am still my parent’s child, my husband’s lover, but my role as mother is the one that is overriding at the moment.  It is no longer about me, it is about my family.  And that is ok, it just that my farewell to the old Tertia is tinged with more than a hint of nostalgia.

I suppose that is life, the redefining of roles, the changes in the way you see yourself.  I also think it part of the ‘shock’ of motherhood that we speak about.  I think that motherhood, in a large way, marks the end of your childhood, once and forever.  Being a child is a role that is defined by the fact that others (are supposed to) care for you, it is (supposed to be) a time in your life where your needs are paramount, where your small world revolves around you.  Once you become a mother, that ends.  You change from the protected to the protector.  It is a life changing, role-redefining thing to go through.

Farewell old Tertia, hope you had fun while you could, I might see you back again in 18 years or so?  Don’t forget about me.

Side note:  I know I am supposed to be sleeping.  I blog instead of sleeping, but how can I sleep when I have this stuff in my head.  It has to come out, it must.  Or else the ‘noise’ keeps me awake.  What do people do who don’t blog?  I think I would go crazy with all of this inside my head.

Comments

[Boulder]

Hello bold beautiful mother protector sexy (not overtly, tho) wifely Tertia. Nice to meet you. The new model will be as delightfully wonderful to get to know as the last.

xoxo

[neety]

I think it takes some getting used to, when something is new and strange...but I think the original person eventually pokes through, but just with fresh skin on.

[Geoje]

Hi Tertia,

I've never written in you blog before, but I've visited a couple of times and have read much of your fantastic story.

I'm a former infertile, now mother myself and has been working with infertility in my countrys intertility assosiation for several years. My ICSI-son is now 3.5 yrs.

You write so well about all the angush and sadness that follows infertility, loss of a child (which I fortunately has not experienced myself) and the evolvment into a mother. Todays post I totally find myself in. In all the transition we go through in life, there is always some kind of crisis. There has been research in the matter that give points in stress levels whenever there is such a change. Losing your parter or child is 100 and infertilty rates in about 70. Marriage is also quite high on the stress level. About 55 I think.

Anyway! Love from a Norwegian in Korea!!

PS My friend and neighbour has twin boys about the same age as yours. I think they came from the same batch in orders, for they too are not good sleepers at night. Of course, both being boys, they ignore each others wails. ;)

[Rosemary]

Tertia,

Will you please get out of my head. Once again, you've gone in there, pulled out my disorganised thoughts, put them in an elegant order, and given them to the world.

I think watching my husband say goodbye to his old self, and slowly unveil the new one has been the thing that has made me realise that this change process is not bad. It just is.

Has anyone told you today that you are gorgeous and divine?

[Carrie Jo]

Hm, yes I should be going to sleep myself. Oh well. I think I'm having a hard time saying goodbye to young, carefree, party girl Carrie to transition into being ttc Carrie. It's hard to wrap my head around the idea of a baby (or two) growing inside me at some point. I totally see what you mean, and I'm sure part of my hesitance is knowing how difficult having a child is.

I was a week and a half away from turning 12 when my little sister was born, so I was very involved in her care as I was in that stage between playing with dolls and being mature enough to babysit. At one point I was the only one able to get her colicky ass to sleep because I was not nearly as stressed out and uptight as my dad and step mom were about, well, life. I learned a lot from that thankfully, but knowing what I do scares the sit out of me sometimes. Babies really are hard sometimes.

When I was 15 I was babysitting my little sister and a family friend's down syndrome daughter of about the same age. My sister was being a brat and would not go to bed and threw a crying fit. This made the other toddler start crying hysterically and they wouldn't stop no matter what I did! I started crying right along with them. Even after they stopped crying, the other girl kept gasping and hiccuping like most children do after a hard cry, but she did so far more than any other kid I had known so it worried me. I was afraid she would pass out from hyperventilating or something. Luckily she didn't.

Oh lord, I've totally hijacked your blog and rambled like an idiot. What I was trying to say in all that is I hear ya, girl. I'm going to bed now.

[Rhonda]

I definitely identify with the whole "loss of self" thing. In my case, it always seems like a major change of roles feels like I need to overcome my shortcomings NOW.

I, too, felt like my identity changed when I got married, but more along the line of, "Eeek! Now that I'm a Wife, I have to be tidy and organized! I have to always have the laundry folded!" I'm not a neatnik by nature, and I am certainly not organized, so the pressure I put on myself was intense. and it didn't work, either.

Then I became a mom, and suddenly I thought the same thing again. I thought I was gonna have to become all organized by the time I was done with maternity leave (Yeah, I know. Very funny)

Then I left work. and suddenly, well, now I have time to get organized now that I'm at home... yeah, right.

Now that I'm getting ready to graduate school and reenter the work force, I feel like I need to turn over that leaf and become super-organized, super-neat, supermom before going back to work. I don't think anyone is holding their breath about it...

[chasmyn]

Wow, that was brilliantly written and so exactly on point. It was as if you have taken what is in my head and made it coherent and eloquent.

When Quinn died, and still almost two years later I am finding that I am redefining myself. I will never be the erson I was before, and like you I hope I am more me, better me, softer, more compassionate and also more able to advocate for the ones I love and myself when need be. Pregnant again, going to again be a mama in August, another redefining. As when I got married and went from flirty cute girl to wife - a struggle for me indeed, one that took years.

Ever growing...

[Nicole]

Beautifully said.

When I became a mother I went through the "loss of self" thing. In fact, looking back I think I even went through the stages of grief as I said goodbye. It was a difficult transition to say they least. Oddly, I think I learned a lot about myself in the process. Sometimes my own self-image is so flat, so two-dimensional. But the transition seemed to reveal a much deeper self, one that is more resilient then I'd imagined. For me, motherhood has been so much about self-discovery. It is such an interesting ride.

[Shelly]

I cna relate. To being married, to having a child, dealing with infertility, having another child with special needs, having more children closer together, and now I have two families, My teenager and my 3 little ones. I am old, but I am young. I am a nurse and a Dr with my special needs child yet my other children need me too. It is always one hand or the other. Who am I suppose to be at a split second?! Always changing and learning...Better than being bored!

[eve]

I can identify with what you said, though I had a huge problem even becoming "the girlfriend." It felt to me that I was becoming someone defined by someone else's existence - after all, I could be [theoretically] "artist" with no one else around, but one can't be a "girlfriend" without a "boyfriend" too.

My personal thing is, I like me, and I don't want to change. I can't understand why people who like who they are want to change that and be someone else, or be a different version of themselves. I find it especially confusing with the mother thing. But I guess I don't get it because I don't want to be one!

[Melany]

I love the way you wrote this. It is so true. There are so many changes in our life. None so huge as becoming a mother. I feel the same way as you. Being mother is currently my biggest job...my main priority.

[Mollie]

I must blog it out before I can rest, too.

I've got a new transition to deal with: my kid has been diagnosed with a chronic health problem that is scary and unpredictable and deadly. And I can't figure out how to be the things he needs me to be now: hyper-vigilant, super-organized, over-protective. None of it is me, or at least none of it was me.

Now it's time for the new mommy-Mollie. The one who gets it right on the first try, because there is no second try. I'm a bit dazed, really. I have to grow new parts of my personality and I feel disoriented and a bit paralyzed.

But I do mourn the way things were, the mom I was. A slacker, in some ways. A bit permissive when it came to risk. I prided myself on being non-neurotic. But it's back to a version of myself from some years ago, I guess, the one who is ever fearful of what might happen. Yick.

[Mijk]

it is such a huge change becoming someones mom. I found it hard to deal with being with my parents the first months. I got al confused about this 2 roles clashing. I was a mom and someones child and it took a while to settle. The very first times people referred to me as Stijns mom, i kept looking over my shoulder, me a mom?. Same thing on the first parentevening at daycare. I wanted to back right out because all the people in the room were adults. It became easier and now with the second baby I can clearly see how much being a mom has become an integrated party of myself. I am now Mijk who is a mother of two. I've changed a lot but I love the new me!

Mijk

[becki/cailani]

i can fully understand about the noise. if i don't write something, anything, for a few days i feel as though my head and heart will just explode.

life is full of changes and i'm glad you're liking this new 'identity'. :)

[Laura]

Hi Tertia,

reading your blog at work (naughty Laura)but I had to post quickly. No time to read others' comments, so please excuse me if you think what follows is assvice, but it's one I feel quite strongly about.

Your post is so spot on - I think "loss of self" goes to the heart of mothershock. A couple of months after my daughter was born, I was involved in a creative writing excercise which began with a visualisation, and I realised through the excercise that somehow I'd come to see the whole creative part of my self as being the same thing as my daugher. Sorry if that sounds hippy-ish. It helped me to see that gradually separating me and her was going to be the key aim of bringing her up towards independence, and of staying sane myself.

So now to the assvice:
Husband first, children second in the order of priorities. The most important thing they need from you is the best possible relationship you can have with their father. Take care of him first. I know that means mother comes third, but hopefully at least one if not three people will be putting you first in their list.

lots of love, gorgeous and divine friend in the computer,

Laura

[Meadowmouse]

Thank you, Tertia, for writing this - it hit me square between the eyes. This entry is exactly what I have been trying to define in my mind for months.

I moved from the States to Nigeria the day after my wedding and found the struggle with loss of self, family, country and job - basically life as I knew it- to be a rough rollercoaster type of transition. I kept trying to blame myself for not adapting quickly, but words like yours help to remind me that what I am going through is normal.

Thank you for sharing this.

[tess]

this is a truly great post. thank you for your honesty and expressing what so many of us endure as we shift and bend with life.

[mamacate]

It's funny that you post this right now. My partner has taken the kids to nana's house for most of the week, and I've been apart from them for the longest time yet in 3 years. It's weird, but it's not as weird as I expected. Of course I'm having a wonderful time doing projects and whatnot (after work, which is why I couldn't go), but part of me is relishing the alone time and remembering the me I used to be, the one who loved to clatter around an empty house while DP was away on business, who read everything in sight, and who, um, got sleep occasionally. Man, I'm grateful for those cute people in my life, but that other me is *right* below the surface, and I think I need to let her out a little more often than every three years. I would never want to go back to the days when I clattered around the house grieving for lost babies and failed cycles, and that is not what I'm wistful for. But I'm wishing for the elusive balance where I have my self and my family too. I think we'll get there. I just think it takes a bit longer with twins. Thanks for a wonderful post.

[Cheryl]

Hi Tertia,

It's all true, every word that you type. I am going through a lot now with my marriage. Most of it is due to this loss of self after taking the title of "Mommy" 19 months ago.

The spontaneous, whimsical person I was has been replaced by a responsible predictable adult. It's so boring.

I resent my husband for not losing himself in his new role. Men do not have this identity crisis.

The honesty in your writing speaks to all of us. Thank you Tertia!

I absolutely adore you.

Smiles,
Cheryl

[Toni]

I always wondered if other women went through the same feelings. When I got married - I couldn't understand what I was supposed to be. Then, when I became a mom...that's a whole 'nother story.

I love being a mom...and wouldn't trade it for anything. And I love the idea of having another one...I'd have 12 if my body would allow it (oh yeah, my husband too).

Just glad to see I'm not alone :)

[Carol]

I could totally relate to this blog entry. In fact, I was lying awake at 4 a.m. this morning thinking the same things about myself and my life.

I went through an identity crisis at the end of grad school that was similar to the one you're describing. I had been in school since age 5, and when I finally got my doctorate and started my first full-time job as a college professor, I suddenly started having these panic attacks. I was used to being the student, not the teacher (well, at least not full-time). I felt like now I had to grow up, and I wasn't ready!! Those three years I spent living alone in a small town in upstate NY teaching hoodlums at that little college changed me from a Peter Pan-like twenty-something into a grown-up. I sometimes miss the old me, but wouldn't have trades those three cold, frozen, grey, lonely years for anything. I emerged from them with much of what I still liked about me intact, but with a new maturity that I was proud of because I never thought I was capable of it. I met my wonderful husband soon after moving to a new state at the end of those three years. I wouldn't have been ready for him either, if it hadn't been for those intervening years.

But enough about me.

Julia Roberts said right after the birth of her twins, "I guess I'm finally a grown-up."

[Paula]

Oh thank you Tertia for defining so beautifully what it is I struggle most with, and my baby is 15 mths old. I still struggle with it. I could also have written what Cheryl has written.

After all your posts, and the tears I've shed specially when you had the twins, I cried most when I read your post today.

[Tara]

Ha ha ha ha ha, I just read Mother Teresa instead of Mother Tertia. Wooops. I think I need to be sleeping instead of reading blogs.

[Lisa V]

Hey my oldest is 13 and I have just recently realized how close she is to gone and I have started feeling the old self coming out in bigger ways all the time. It's come out in bits and pieces over the years, but I am starting to remember I want be a mother of small children forever. You will too.

[Joy]

I hope at some point there is a way for your posts to reach a broader audience. So many mothers struggling with the role transitions (regardless of whether they have experienced infertility or not) would benefit from your words of compassion, strength, and courage. You're a wise woman. :)

[Debe]

I totally get that. I don't feel "grown-up" at 37, maybe because I can't have a child to force me to switch roles?

[Moxie]

I love this post, Tertia. And the whole "see you in 18 years" resonates, too. When I'm feeling too pressured by motherhood, I really never think about my old life, because I can't imagine not having my son. But I do spend an awful lot of time thinking ahead to all the fun I'm going to have when he's away at university.

FWIW, I think you're making the transition quite gracefully.

[Shannon Finley]

Goodness Tertia, sometimes I think you are me stuck in another body. When we lost Mavrick I went through the same feelings and now, I'm trying to figure out who I am all over again.

I'm so glad that you are so incredibly honest and whitty.

Thank you.

[Cory]

I'm going to echo everyone else's sentiments and probably sound like a broken record myself...but what you wrote was so right on, so close to the exact things I have felt.

I've always wanted to be the kind of mom that lives for her kids. And though I still do try to take time for myself from time to time...everything I am/do is devoted to my son. And that's fine, because that's the way I want it. Although, that doesn't mean that I don't miss the days when I was solely devoted to myself. And too, I worry about what I will be, what will be left of me when my kids are grown. Will I remember who I was way back when?

[Lori]

It is bittersweet to make that transition into motherhood, and out of Tertiahood I'm sure. I had my children as a teenager, so I never really "lost" myself...seeing that I never really had time to find out who I was in the first place.

But, now at 28, I do think I am experiencing a touch of "finding myself", because I've gone back to college and realized I'm really darn smart and good at something other than having kids! I am pregnant again now, and there is a 8 yr. age gap between this one and my youngest...and I feel a sense of sorrow of having to relinquish my new found "me-ness" by becoming a new mom all over again. Don't get me wrong, this baby was VERY much wanted...as was yours, but that feeling is still there. I do empathize w/you girl...I'm right there w/ya!

[Mandy]

I wondered if you'd be writing on this topic. I got married the day before my 25th birthday and I went through a bit of that who am I thing then, and can see how that will likely happen again...any day now.

Thank you for your honesty.

[Carolyn]

Tertia,

Amazing how you can so succinctly put things that take others years of therapy and/or decades of self-reflection. You are wonderful that way.

I have had my own loss of identity experiences, too. Some I can laugh about: the single girl me who vowed I'd never drive a minivan. (Ha! Guess I had that one all wrong.) ..and some I cringe in memory at how poorly I adapted: being a new wife and stepmother was a painful transition that I muddled my way through.

In my case, what I think helps is that I have a wonderful husband who has "reminded" me of my former self(s?). He encourages me to remember the me from before our kids. He knows what makes me tick and encourages me not to forget. He actually shamed me into buying tickets to a live show for a band that I loved - but it had never occured to me that ol' mommy me could attend a rock show again.
My dear hubby is sort of the "keeper" of my kidless identity - if that makes any sense.

I married at 30, too - but he knows enough about me from when I was younger to know and cherish what I saw was uniquely "me".. and he is so perceptive that sometimes he knows better than I what I need to "refresh" that piece of me that's so far buried under the mommy/working mommy identity I'm currently living in.

I so firmly believe that these years raising our babies/children are literally the best years of our lives. I know it goes by so fast and I want to savor every bit.

Even so - I also look forward to the time when our time and identities are less defined by our children again. When Raffi isn't in high rotation in the CD player, when our house isn't strewn with toys, and when my dear hubby can buy that car he really wants that is only a two-seater as opposed to the safe family cars we have now that must fit at least three children/infant car seats.

I know the time will come. And I can already imagine that the sadness of transitioning away from the years of being parents of small children will be tempered with the excitement of having more time to spend together again, just the two of us.

[stephanie]

So interesting you should write about this now. I just completed moving in with my DP. I love him, really I do...but hadn't realized how much of myself was reflected in the home I created for myself until I dismantled it, never to be seen exactly like that again. It very much made me feel like I was packing away my single identity, to take on a new one. And I did mourn that loss.

[Jan]

Spot on! A fully integrated personality keeps growing in cycles. It will be interesting to hear how you feel after returning to work and then balancing those worlds -- or not. Not having been able to have children -- or find a DH -- I am 51 but might as well be a six-year-old inside. I feel I have never made the transition in spite of responsibilities to cats, friends, family, students, a profession. It gets old. And scarier as you get older. So rejoice! Don't forget to wiggle your butt, throw your arms up in the air and shout, "woo woo!" occasionally. (And tell Mr. Albertyn ... he's a star.)

[ellen]

I liked your last 2 lines...sometimes when I'm really tired or don't feel like being completely selfless I think the same thing..."in 18 years or so..."

But then I think about my friends who never even married and I try not to complain that much (but it's hard!)

[halloweenlover]

How can you just be so fabulous over and over again in your entries? I am just blown away.

Really, this is so well said. When I got married I went through the same identity crisis, the same loss of self. I wondered who I was now and was I losing my identity in my husband, how did everyone else see me, would I become boring and lose my friends and stay home all the time. It took me a little bit, but I did finally figure out that I was the same fun person, just a little more free because now my best friend accompanied me in all my decisions. I could be as silly as I wanted, he always thought I was great.

And I think friends and family add to this anxiety when they sometimes give us space, thinking that we are so busy we won't miss them calling or visiting or inviting us out. We are busy, and having a child (or two) is even busier, but we still need to feel as if we are the same person to those friends and family. Or at least, that is what I need.

Anyway, my point is that this is another fabu post from gorgeous and divine tertia! Yippee!

[wix]

very well put.

[hilary]

Tertia: have never commented before on your site. I read it every day. I felt so strongly about this one I had to post, because I wish someone had told me. There is great news: that old you will be back, before you know it, though slightly different but better than before. You are baby world now; that first year is all about Motherhood with the capital M. I have a 3 year old and 5 year and have entered the next phase and wow is it liberating. I loved it all, but now motherhood has gone back to being just part of who I am. I have 2 kids who can feed themselves, use the toilet, follow directions. I am constantly astonished how little they need me compared to a few short years ago. And my friends with older kids assure me it just gets easier. They are so fun - and I sleep through the night, I shower unmolested and THEY GO TO PRESCHOOL. Now I'm starting to think about me again. I was a lawyer pre-kids - now I'm thinking about my next career, writing a book, etc. I started doing triathlons LAST SUMMER. But I remember where you are at. Seems like it will go on forever but it doesn't. Trust me, you will look back and say, "Remember when they were babies? God, that was just insane!" But you'll be glad you didn't miss a minute of it. You're doing great. Cheers.

[Stacey]

This reminds me of when C's father and I were fighting...and I told him that Caelyn was the most important thing in my life right now. My priority.

He said she wasn't his.

That's when I knew for sure it was over and that I needed to get away from him.

[Tammy]

Faithful reader - first time posting.

So many times I have read your blog and was amazed by how well you put MY THOUGHTS into words! Today's blog takes the cake.

I married very young - just 2 weeks after my 19th b'day. My battle with loss of self came later on in my marriage - at the age of 25 - after I'd matured. I found myself reaching out for something to define who I was now.

The battle with loss of self almost cost me my marriage - but luckily my wonderful husband kept me grounded with his love and patience.

I wish I could tell you just how much your blog has meant to me today. Reading your words has helped me to finally put an "explanation" to all of my questions as to "WHY" I have those feelings from time to time. It really helps to know that other women go through this too.

Thank you Tertia, for your honesty.

[Maggaggie]

I think your second poster said it quite nicely.

I went through a "loss of self" when I got married, when I returned to school, when I had my daughter. Honestly, for 8 years my "self" would peek through occasionally (usually when consuming jello shots). However, almost two years after my daughter was born, I am just now dealing with everything in my head and trying to get back to my "self." Blogging helps.

Good luck with your transition.

[buttercup]

I had a slightly different reaction to my grief. When my daughter died, I wrapped that grief around me like a cloak. I feared for a very long time that I would eventually *not* be sad. The sadness became very comfortable for me. It allowed me to distance myself from others. On the other hand, I could not stand feeling pitied. I wanted to be respected for the tremendous loss I'd suffered, but I wanted that respect without the pity that tends to go along with it. Strange, huh? It is now 3.5 years since her death, and I am pregnant with a son. I want this baby so badly that I can hardly bear to ponder just how high the stakes are this time around. But now my fear has changed to one I commonly hear expressed on the IF boards: That people will forget what I've been through. That somehow the (God willing) safe arrival of my son will cause others to disregard all the grief of losing my daughter, and the three miscarriages that followed her death. I want to be happy again, I really do. Holding my living child will go along way towards my acheiving happiness, but I don't want to let go entirely of that special ache I live with. That ache for my daughter. And I don't want others to forget her. That's my biggest identity crisis. Marriage was hard, but I grew up with my DH (began dating at 13, married at 26) so he was already a big part of who I am.

Thanks for yet another thought-provoking post.

[Bella]

You said that so well. Thanks!

[unexplained]

You made a good point about motherhood being the point at which you finally become a grown-up. I teach college students, which helps with feeling grown-up (or at least OLD) but it's not the same. Or I presume it's not . Our life is actually rather similar to my parent's life - we both work full time, have a decent income, and very few responsibilities apart from keeping a roof over our head and our pets fed. It feels like we're still waiting for our real lives to begin.

[MollieBee]

I went thru that Single/Wife thing too T. I was married at 20, so I think it had a lot to do with my age, and also that I was quite a little slut...;)

I think our roles and our identities change often throughout our life, and I'd say it's important to be able to do that. Some people end up stuck in the same place and never realize they can change.

[Marlen]

Thank you for your post today. I just realized while reading it that I am in need of a redefining of sorts. Thanks again. Reading what you wrote and how you felt has really helped.

[Kel]

Oh Mother Tertia,

Of all the very lovely posts, this one was especially so. And a good post always conjurs up such yummy and thoughtful comments.

Just wait though, because you'll morph and you'll bring all of the aspects of all of the Tertias into motherhood (even, I'll be bold and say the sexual one - in the right context...help Kate be devine, help Adam learn to flirt back) only you don't do it on purpose; it just happens.

In my very much younger and wilder days, I was an actor (mostly commercials and pilots). When my sitcom hadn't landed me into the expected stardom by 27 or so, I gave it up in favor of the sanity of a steady paycheck and a return to University. I always thought, if I wanted to "act", I could darn well get involved in community theater, it didn't have to be for pay, just for the joy of doing it. Only now I was in grad school, then I was putting someone else though med school, then my career would never allow me the time... Did I miss it? You bet. Was there a bit of longing for the good ol' days? Sure.

Only now, every single night of my life, I give a 30 minute performance and the audience is currently a 3 year old. So what if its a story about how dinasours say goodnight. Yeah, it's not Lady McBeth... but it sure is a rush. And last night, just when I thought he wasn't paying attention and was playing with one of his cars instead of listening, the review was, "Mommy, you read really good."

It just keeps getting better.

Kel

[katie]

I SO identify, T. I was lost for a lot longer than a couple of months, though. I have now changed to where I really don't remember too much of my old self. She's still here, but has a lot more control over herself, you know?
From Katie the daughter of x to Katie the student (hanging from the chandelier) to Katie the wife of this fisherman and mother to my children.....what a blast.

You've come a long way, baby. Your experiences make you uniquely qualified to be a friend to those who have lost a baby, those who have had difficulty getting pregnant, staying pregnant and finally being a mom. WOW! That's a lot of life lessons to share. And share, you do. Keep it up!

[twizzle]

Hi Tertia,

I liked Laura's "assvice" of the husband coming first, children second. As the new mother of an infant, that's a hard concept to get my head around, but a very important one. I needed to be reminded of how important my marriage is. Thank you for your blog! Now get some fucking sleep!

Twizzle

[Kathleen]

Very well said.

In my experience, it keeps going as motherhood changes. My son will be 13 next month and I can feel the identity shift happening again. I will no longer be the mother of a boy, but of a teenager. And then, not that far off, I'll be the mother of young adult. I simply can not really picture him moving out, just like I could not really picture what my life would be like once I finally became a mother.

It's always hard to say goodbye to who I was, but I've been lucky enough so far to always find out that I like who I become. I hope that continues on, for all of us.

[bp]

why blog when you do it so well for me?

I get this. I get it really, really, deep.

Completely.

I lost a child and the child's father five years ago, catastophicly (sp). I wanted that baby, loved the father.

They are both gone.

I didn't understand what happened to me.

That care free, spontaneous laugh, the open heart, the expectation of goodness in life, the hope of love and being loved.

Gone.

My identity was in the above, the hope of the above.

It's gone now.

I never had the words to define it before.

I didn't understand it before.

Now I do.

Bless you and your babies, Tertia.

bp

[M]

Thank you so much for this deep and insightful post. It really touched my heart and expressed a lot of how i felt after I had my misscarrige. I felt like a different person and everything look different to me. It's like a sadness or a weight that makes everything in life look a little different to me. People mourn and life goes on but I can't seem to get back to the person I used to be.

[Jenergy]

Well said, Tertia! You might think about it as shades and variations, different blends, if you can, sometimes, rather than black and white Before and After. I know it feels black and white while you're going though it, and you need to acknowledge that. But sometimes you can put yourself first, in a specific instance when you absolutely need, for example, a bubble bath. (OK, maybe not in the first six months of having premie twins... the blending can't happen that fast). Of course, going too far toward the "blend" leads to SuperMom syndrome, and you don't want that either! Boy, it's hard navigating this emotional parenting stuff, isn't it?