Focusing

They took him right away. Not for long, and not far, but I was stunned, shocked, alone. It happened so fast in the end, that shift of focus from here, at my center, at me- to over there.

Everyone had been so focused on me. Jon urging me to concentrate, counting down the seconds until the next wave of pain would sear through me. The nurses, how many were there? Everything was so foggy- and not just because of the pain, but because at some point I had started draping a wet washcloth over my face and my glasses were hopelessly smeared, sweaty, useless. There was no time to wipe them, nothing to wipe them on, and I kept putting that washcloth back over my face anyway- fading the world to black as the pain swept through.

Then a doctor swept in, someone I didn’t know, but she had gentle hands and a soothing voice and she kept me focused on the job at hand. This whole team kept touching me, consoling me, urging me forward. And then a push, a warm gushing flow, and everything moved away from me. Not right away- they put him warm and wet on my belly first. Jon ceremoniously cut the cord, and then, in a tightly choreographed move, all of the other players in the room, including the newest, moved to the left. And there I was, streaked glasses offering me a glimpse of a huddle of backs. I wanted to join in, but I was physically stuck, feet in the stirrups, and my eyes and their backs shut me out.

Of course I had him back in my arms within minutes, but that whisking movement, that flow away from me, is a what sticks with me when I think back to that birth. And now I realize that even though I was stuck in the bed, half blind and hurting, I did participate in that flowing away. It was really at that moment that my life quit being all about me. My focus also shifted in that moment. Of course it had been shifting for years, really. Naturally I had moved from focusing on my own physical needs, to nurturing my emotional needs, then to opening up to include Jon, my partner. And even over the past nine months, when I had been extra carefully monitoring ME, the focus had been becoming more and more narrow- fixated on the gigantic belly that housed our son.

And now, almost exactly eight years later, I find myself at a spot where I might be able to change my focus a bit once again. My second, and youngest, son has entered full day kindergarten. I have continued to work 3 days a week since my first son was born, but my two days home were not ‘off’ as my childless co-workers liked to assume. Those days were spent working the overtime shift on my second job- mothering. But now, every Tuesday and Thursday I walk my kids to school at 9 am and then… what? And there’s the hitch. It’s been so long since I had time of my own to fill, I’m not quite sure how to do it.

It’s not like I have been stagnant over the last eight years, spending every free moment parenting, or learning about parenting, or worrying about parenting. Beyond the 7895 fascinating things I have learned about raising my two boys, I have branched out. Sometime in the last eight years I took up triathlons. I’m not good at them, but I have learned to finish them with dignity. I think. My husband and I bought and fixed up a house. Heck, I even helped found (really, give birth to) a charter school. In that undertaking I learned things such as how to sell a product that doesn’t yet exist, how to work as part of a staff team that shares every aspect of leadership, how to convince a student that dropping out is not an option, and how to operate a freight elevator. I’m especially good at that last one. These are not minor undertakings. But they have all been things that I have fit in while someone else is taking care of my kids- and I have been fabulously aware of the time ticking until I have to get back to my first job.

That job still exists, of course. And it is as fascinating as ever. But now I have two full days where my children are engaged at school. Not being babysat by my mother, or brother, or neighbor- someone who undoubtedly has somewhere else to be, and soon. And here I am, ironically once again with foggy eyes due to recent Lasik surgery, not sure where I should go, or what I should do. I admit for the first few days, I just kind of sat here. Partly, that was dictated by the fact that I couldn’t really see while my eyes were healing, and I didn’t want to cause bodily harm to anyone by being out and about via car or bike. But I also wasn’t really sure what I wanted.

Now that my vision is coming back into focus, I can’t say that I’ve figured anything out. What am I going to do now that I have time to be me again? I don’t know, but as I sit and consider it, I remember a second feeling from that first birth, eight years ago- the sense of wonder, and excitement, for the journey ahead.