I'm doing it. It took me nearly two years but I'm actually fucking doing it.
I'm currently sitting in an office space by myself.
The door is closed and I am surrounded by my notebooks, a single pen and a glass of water.
I am writing.
You are reading what I am writing.
And thus begins a relationship that I put aside in order to become a mother.
Motherhood is an impermanent permanence, I've come to realize. The role is forever morphing and moving; a shapeshifter. There are many days that you attempt to see your reflection but do not recognize what you see. There are nights of blissful rest and sweet cuddles and nights of pain and tears and dark circles the next morning. In this constant metamorphosis nothing is permanent.
So why is the feeling of forever/never such a constant within this identity?
I've spent much of the last two years indoors: unemployed, moving from home to home (5 to be exact) searching for community, breastfeeding, changing diapers, cooking, eating, cleaning, learning to not lose myself in this tidal wave of domestic duties so that I may not drown, bringing down with me relationships I care so deeply for.
I lived my whole life up until this point rejecting these duties that were previously forced onto all the women in my family. I swore I'd never pick up no mans plate from the table, never spend day after day cleaning everyones shit up. Nope. In my punkness, in my fearless approach to staying out late at night and spending nights with multiple lovers and traveling the world I would never be a housewife.
And yet, I am a housewife. Shit. I've never actually said this out loud.
When people ask what I do, I say instead "I stay home to care for my son because I want to but also because no one else can." If the persons lucky I'll also say, "This country is the absolute worst in taking care of new mothers. We are expected to return to work after JUST 6 weeks. I still had terrible hemorrhoids at six weeks and was barely figuring out what breastfeeding actually was! Did you know Cuba not only gives mothers an entire year of paid work leave, but also provides free child care once the child can walk?!"
Sometimes, I feel like I'll be home forever, wiping poop butts and picking up cilantro leaves from the floors. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be what I dream to be: a writer, a birthworker, an artist, knowledged in plant medicine and indigenous healing techniques. Sometimes I think I'll never be alone and the idea is daunting. Permanence..
Most of these thoughts are not true of course.
Because look at me writing right now and you reading this right now. And look at me taking time for me to do this, by myself, without interruption and look at my partner cleaning the house and taking care of our sun so I can do this because finally I allowed myself this space.
However, there is truth to the last statement: I will never be alone again.
I won't. Because whether Soliah or I am on this Earth or not, his existence is permeated into mine forever. We shared one body, ya'll and this is relived every night when we sleep together. How pure it is to feel his precious breath on me and how deeply incredible it is to see him grow and grow and grow, his mind develop, his hands dexterity becoming stronger, his ability to climb and jump and run and dance and make jokes becoming stronger. It's simply amazing.
Fuck the "housewife" term. I am the tree trunk. I am black gold compost soil. I am the chile needed on every damn dish. And my dreams are already coming true. I can see them staring at me.