Personal

The Weight of Finality

The Weight of Finality

I have always had a relationship with finality.

I remember being a child and watching one of my favorite show’s series finale. It felt heavy. Everything was tied up with a bow, but I didn’t feel happy. I knew that I would never see another new episode. I knew that these people weren’t real, but their lives and their stories felt real. It was as if they were growing alongside me and their failures and triumphs were my own.

The show ended and the actors came out on stage (back then it was filmed in front of a live audience). They were all holding hands and they took several bows. Some of them were crying. They were hugging and talking to each other. Obviously, we couldn’t hear what they were saying as we watched them on our bulky tvs. But, I imagined they were saying what we would say in real life, saying what should have been said the whole time and not just at “goodbye”.

It’s somewhat like an obituary. We say all of the most meaningful and heartfelt things after someone has passed. We feel it so deeply because we know we’ll never be able to say those words to them. We hold out hope that somehow they can hear us and that they knew it all along, even if left unsaid while living.

I’m not leaving anything unsaid.

Here is my obituary to myself before I became a mother. She has died, yes, but part of her still lives and I want her to know how much I love her and appreciate her sacrifice.

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Life was beautiful before you

Life was beautiful before you

Life was beautiful before you.

It was simple.

It was full of freedom and exploration.

It was light.

Now there is this weight.

There is a heaviness because I’ve never known that love like this exists and the fear of losing it is too immense.

I’m noticing colors in the sky that I hadn’t cared to look for since childhood.

I’m hearing birds sing to each other on our morning walks I didn’t used to take.

You point out the moon in the morning sky and it’s as if I had forgotten to look up.

Yes, life was beautiful and simple before you, but now it’s vast and spectacular.

-to Maeve

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SSRIs Saved Me As a Mother - Boca Raton Family Photographer

SSRIs Saved Me As a Mother - Boca Raton Family Photographer

This photograph, of me, will always be my favorite from that time.

This is so much of what motherhood has felt like to me. Everything is a foggy memory because I was in constant fight or flight. Something that might seem like a normal inconvenience would send me into a full spiral. I would look around at other mothers and say, “How are you enjoying this? Why did you choose to have another baby and do this to yourself all over again? What’s wrong with me? Am I ever going to enjoy motherhood?”

I wasn’t someone who fell in love with her baby right when they put her on my chest. It took me almost two years to feel that for her. Yes, I had love for her and would do anything for her, but she felt like a stranger to me. I couldn’t let her in because I was actively fighting motherhood every day.

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How do we spread our art, knowing the very privilege it is to have the freedom to make it?

How do we spread our art, knowing the very privilege it is to have the freedom to make it?

“The most courageous act in a world that is cruel and numb is to feel the pain and still choose to live with your heart wide open.” - James McCrae

How?

How do we see the ugly in the world around us and choose to create beauty?

How do we spread our art, knowing the very privilege it is to have the freedom to make it?

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My daughter was the death of the weakest parts of me and the birth of the strongest

My daughter was the death of the weakest parts of me and the birth of the strongest

I used to think that having a child would be the death of me.

In a way, it was.

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