I’ve been reading alot of medical and nursing blogs lately. Mostly because I miss midwifery. Partly because I forget who I am sometimes. I feel as though I have lost my identity.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being at home with my children, I do.
David, who I love with all my heart, is not a great conversationalist. At least, not with me. He seems to be able to regale the soccer Mums with stories and trivia but not me. He’ll talk the ear off my (politically interested) friends but he won’t even enter into those things with me. My understanding of how the government works is far too basic for him.
Is it wrong to feel bored, when you have everything and more?
I’ve been dreaming alot lately. About doing more study, about becoming a doctor, about extending my professional skills in some way. Doing things that really interest me. Excite me I guess.
Not the housework.
Not the perpetual washing and hanging out of clothes.
Not the organisation of the house and the people within it.
Perhaps it is just an escape from everything that’s been going on that is making me feel restless. Perhaps it is because the only outings I seem to have these days is to the hospital or the doctor’s for Ivy and the rest of the time I am house bound.
I was thinking, in the small hours of the morning, about birth and the amazing, miraculous thing that it is and I craved it. I wanted to be there. I wanted to put my hands on that slippery head as it pushed it’s way into the world. I wanted it for myself and I felt greedy.
Aside from the privilege of being with a woman as she births her baby into this world, I really do want it for myself. Again.A pregnancy, that feeling of growth and movement. The wonderment of life. Ivy and Noah are growing so fast, no longer babies.
I know I can’t have it. I have no uterus to speak of and my tubes are well and truly tied but the longing is still there. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away?
I have been at home this weekend, while my elder children go here and there, while David does his own thing, while Ivy and Noah potter around and I feel… invisible. An overwhelming sense of nothingness, not being needed, not being appreciated. Taken for granted.
I made the suggestion that we go to the beach this afternoon, when it cools down. Something, anything to change the routine. This has been met with a less than enthusiastic response and I am feeling fragile, angry, let down and disappointed. So here I sit typing my woes out into the universe.
I am guessing that every SAHM feels this way sometimes, right? Please tell me I am not the only one. Please. I could do with the adult interaction!