The Valley (or Trench) of Motherhood

Why am I always running?

Not actually running. I haven’t run a mile in my life.

Escaping. Trying to leave this moment to get to the next…which is just yesterday’s moment that looked so good the day before I couldn’t wait to arrive.

Recently I watched an interview with Gisele Bundchen where she described her life as a series of mountains and valleys. From the top of the mountain, you can see everything, and everyone can see you. When she took a break from modeling to raise her children, she referred to this time as the valley.

In the valley, no one can see the work that you’re doing but that doesn’t make it any less important. And honestly, I can’t think of anything more important than bringing my son into the world.

So…why have I been trying so hard to escape of the valley of motherhood?

I should’ve appreciated the valley sooner instead of trying to run like hell up the sides. But that’s what I do. What I’ve done. I run from where I am—wherever I am. I’ve been trying to outrun—or outsmart?—motherhood since I found out I was pregnant, like the whole experience would eat me alive if I let it catch me.

I’ve seen it happen before. New parents, mothers in particular, get lost in their kids. Children come first—and they should. But after you give everything you have to your little ones, what’s left for you? I feel selfish asking, but I want to know.

I didn’t want to be one of those moms that lost themselves for years (decades?) only to look around when their children are grown and wonder what the hell happened to them. Mostly, I was afraid to lose writing.

Because I only just got it back.

So I sunk my claws into writing and fought for every spare second like my life depended on it because it felt like it did, and somehow in the year after I had my son, I cranked out more work in an hour a day than I had in the previous five, child-free years. I was a machine. And a monster. And I was terrified every damn day that it would still somehow disappear, and my soul along with it.

Listening to Gisele describe her time in the valley of motherhood, I think I missed out. To hear her tell it, maybe getting lost in your children isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe I did it wrong. Or maybe I did what I needed to do to survive. I can’t look back and call it a mistake because of all I’ve accomplished in the four years since my son was born. I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t run so hard from the traditional trappings of motherhood, toward the dream I refused to rescind.

But I wish I had appreciated the valley more. I wish I gave myself permission to take a breath and settle into motherhood without such fear.

I wish I knew how to just be here and enjoy here, whether I’m trudging through the valley—or the trenches—or staring out from the peaks.