I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
- Sylvia Plath,
The Bell Jar
Here's the honest truth: when I got pregnant, I was far away from being able to see myself as a mother. I felt startled, probably because I had unwittingly decided in my mind the order in which I was going to accomplish my identities; it was to be a book, the chapters ordered in the way that I wanted to see myself.
1. I first wanted to see myself as a traveler, an adventurer, to see if the way that I saw the world could offer any sort of new perspective. It was important that I get this done first, and quickly, because you have to still be young and naive to believe that you have a brand new perspective to offer. Also, I knew there was so much to see and learn, and felt that if I were to do anything of worth, say anything of worth, in a way that was going to really touch people, I needed to see as much as I possibly could.
2. Then I wanted to see myself as an advocate. What that looked like, I wasn't sure. But that would surely come to me, right? I envisioned something having to do with community building, I imagined building figurative bridges, and fighting for the oppressed. I felt truly happy when I struggled to translate those grandiose ideas into practical realities.
3. I wanted to see myself as an artist. Or more accurately, a creator, a person constantly in the process of creating. I felt so full during those seasons in my life when I was pressed to write and write, either from solitude or angst or curiosity. One of my favorite memories is a time when I was hit with so much inspiration that I couldn't stop painting well into the night.
4. I wanted to see myself as the kind of person who would have a job that she loved. What this job was, I didn't know, but I was hopeful that such a job existed. This job would pay well and it would give me the appropriate experience I needed to build up a career.
5. I guess the foolish thing was thinking that I could first get comfortable in all these roles before I saw myself as a wife and a mother. And by the time I got married, I felt like I had only begun to wade into these territories and already feeling confused about how I was to accomplish all my identities while having a family. When I got married, I didn't realize how much expectation I had put on myself to have already fulfilled certain roles and identities. Realizing how far away from being the person I thought I should be, somehow translated into me feeling trapped and lacking as a wife.
6. I think I struggled with what it meant to be a wife, at first. And there was a lot of pride that got in the way of me being able to let go and just be that, a wife. I needed a lot of assurance during those first few months, that being married was not the scary, grown-up, way-later-chapter that I had pre-determined it to be. It just so happened that my husband was extremely busy the first few months and rarely home. This left very little time and opportunity for me to get the assurance I needed from him of our roles as husband and wife, and all of this left me feeling lonely and kind of freaked out.
7. But time, many many conversations with my husband, encouragement from friends, talks with my parents, and prayer helped me settle into my married skin. And I loved it. I loved constantly realizing how wonderful my husband is and how willing he is to change and grow, and I loved seeing how our rough edges smoothed each other out when there was friction. I guess what happened is that the world of marriage appeared before me. That is, I could see the potential of what the growth of a marriage could mean for my own growth, and I felt so privileged that I could claim this status as a wife as part of my identity. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that I could see God and the gospel in our marriage, every day, and it made me feel... deeply loved.
8. The job that I got, was just a job, I wasn't going to love it, I wasn't going to be able to travel or have any adventures any time soon, I was rarely finding the time to write or paint, and the burden of my law school debt hung heavy over my head. Most of all though, was the problem of feeling like I was supposed to do something significant with my law degree and there I was, really struggling to juggle all of these identities. But somehow, I was doing it. Or trying to do it. My time at my job turned into months and my husband and I got pretty good at budgeting, planning and prioritizing. I realized that I felt capable, side-by-side with my husband, and almost proud of the fact that I was plugging away. It is easy to brood and groan and lay around in bed; it is harder thing to get up every day to go to work, try your best, pay your bills and keep hoping. I was doing the latter, and I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I was doing it. I had realized another identity I had in me to be a financially responsible, tax-paying, debt-paying, saving-for-the-future kind of individual, and as unromantic as it seems sometimes, I was doing something that was necessary, and it made me feel purposeful. You don't really imagine this identity for yourself when you are romantically dreaming up your future, but this one is truly inevitable. If you find yourself in the midst of it, you should be proud.
9. At one point looking back, I realized that the fact that I had desired and dreamed of these many identities had inevitably made them a part of me. Because these things were important to me- I
had traveled and adventured, I
had advocated, I
had created, I
had worked hard, and I
had married my best friend. I tried to see that this made me who I am and would continue to be a part of who I was becoming. I
am and will be a traveler and adventurer, I
am and will be an advocate, I
am and will be an artist and a writer, I
am and will be responsible, I
am and will be a wife and a lover. I just needed to choose these things for myself everyday, and be willing to be open to the different ways that they will look in their various forms. I realized that this will be a lifelong attempt of figuring out how to go about doing this, and I am still in the midst of understanding that.
10. So we came up with a 3 year plan. And it was at the end of the three years that we would finally have a baby. This is good, I told myself. This way, I can have more time to learn how to be a wife, more time to figure out my career, more time to be creative, and more time for us to save money. We can do this. Which is why it was a shock to learn that we were pregnant. I did, truly, feel the figurative earth move under my feet, shifting, changing my plans and expectations once again. I felt scared and couldn't even comprehend what my identity as a mom could be like. I always knew I wanted children and a family - this was very important to me- but it felt too soon. But then I looked at the face of my husband, who I had grown to trust so much, and there was genuine joy. Having him next to me, joyful and thankful, vanquished the walls that seemed to be marching in towards me. It was going to be a whole new world! a whole new branch, a new identity that we were going to be able to explore together, and that is an adventure, isn't it? This requires a lot of responsibility, but also a lot of creativity, doesn't it?
* * *
I'm at about six and a half months of my pregnancy right now and I've come a long way from the way I felt when I first held that pregnancy test. Honestly I still get extremely nervous when I think about how things will change. Not just our daily routine and future landscape, but also about my physical body changing. I'm also anxious about how this will change the dynamic between my husband and myself. We will need to learn how to be husband/father and wife/mother, and I am wondering if this will be a good fit.
But I also get nervous in a good way, in a thrilled and excited way, to meet this new person growing inside me. I don't know yet who she will be or how I will love her, but I feel her kick and my heart beats faster in anticipation. I remember that I am going to have the privilege of meeting a brand new person who will learn things from me. Her identity will be shaped by her parent's love, and I know how important that is. She too will grow to have expectations and dreams, and probably come up with different identities that she wants to try on herself. And this will be good. Yes, I will tell her that it is okay, sometimes lovely, when things don't go the way you plan or expect, and I will assure her that she will be able to find joy in growing and changing in this way.
Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.
- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
