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Having two daughters has me thinking a lot about sisterhood these days. I have one sister (no brothers, except for my brother-in-law who really has been a brother to me). She is older than me so by the time I was aware of the world, she was off living her life and we didn't have that much to do with each other. When I was 9 she moved away to travel and work and I rarely saw her until she moved back to Vancouver when I was 17. My sister and I started to get to know each other but we weren't very close. I moved to Toronto, she got married and had kids, we lived very different lives.
But all of that changed the day I told her that I was pregnant with my first baby. I think she was more excited than I was, and even though we had yet to find out the sex of the baby she bought it shoes. Of course. And luckily, it was a girl. My sister has two boys (amazing boys whom I love) so having a niece was going to be fun for her. She bought every girly thing you can imagine. But it wasn't just about the baby. I instantly felt a connection with my sister. One I never had. I had joined the club. Motherhood.
Since then, I have had a second girl. My sister is so close to both girls and has been the Aunt Extraordinaire. My oldest daughter simply calls her Aunty. But for me, having a sister that is a mom that I admire, someone I can talk to about pregnancy, recovery from c-sections, raising babies, feeding children, life with children, is something that has really changed me. I wasn't expecting to feel a connection with her in this way.
Now I have the sister I never really had before. And I am so happy that we are close now and sharing our lives now instead of wishing we had stayed close and kept in touch. Because now is when I really need a sister. Because Motherhood is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is also the part of my life that brings me the greatest joy and that I feel most proud of. And now I get to share it with my sister. The sisterhood of Motherhood.
(first published by Kimberley's Kitchen Nov 2010)
Life has a way of changing when we least expect it. I love change and have lived a life of always seeking change. And most change is good. Like the moment I knew I was pregnant with my first daughter (above).
And then there's the kind of change we wish wouldn't happen. Last week, I found myself sitting in a very depressing hospital waiting area. Waiting for a CT scan for a neck injury yet to be diagnosed. I was overwhelmed with the thought "I never want to be in a hospital again." Hospitals, unfortunately, have little to do with health and a lot to do with sickness. Of course, that is their purpose. But it is hard to feel "healthy" in a hospital.
On the long drive home I made a quiet personal committment: "I will change." I promised myself that it was time to shift a whole lot about my life to really resolve the physical challenges and to embark on a new path of wellness.
Just over a year ago I made a lot of changes for my family that were all very good. My job, career, my husband's career, my children's lifestyle, our community, our family time, our quality of life and our financial situation all changed for the better. But I couldn't help but be frustrated with the fact that my health had declined in that time. While everything else was going up, my health was going down. I spent months in denial. But on the highway I faced the truth and told myself that I would get to the bottom of it and make the necessary changes to make my health a priority.
Five days later I crashed my car off the highway while driving to work.
Change was forced upon me. I think that life got tired of waiting for me to do something about it and literally smacked me upside the head to change things for good. It would be so easy to be angry or sad or withdraw. It would be so easy to give up and give in to the pain. But I can't. I have two beautiful, lovely daughters watching me. Two people depending on me to be my best. Four eyes soaking in all that I am and will be.
Change is here. Whether I was ready or not. "Ready or not, here I come." So now, what I thought I would be doing and changing has become obselete. What is changing is that I have been forced to stop. Sheer pain and side effects from medication have forced me to do less. Accept help. And re-evaluate what wellness means to me.
I am adjusting my expectations. Of myself. And of those around me. I have instantly gained a new acceptance of myself and others. How dare I ask for anything more/different when I am already so lucky? How could I possibly expect anything other than all that I have?
While I am in pain, I am very lucky. My accident was very close to being a lot worse. For me and others. While I sit in my warm, safe home with a full tummy, thousands are left without heat, water, and food only miles away. And then there are those that have never had these luxuries. Perspective is everything.
When the paramedic reached his head into my car and asked me how I was doing, I said, "I'm good. Relatively."
And I am. I am good.
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