No disrespect to The BF {and FoH} but today, Rome is my Valentine.
I have spent today wandering. Hopelessly, aimlessly around. Walking and winding my way through narrow cobblestone streets.
Stopping at charming cafes. Cappuccinos and vinos. Art and candles and churches.
I have sat, quietly. Serenly. An intimate tete-a-tete with Rome himself. Reacquating myself with myself … those parts of me that have laid dormant for the past almost 22 months since I had FoH.
I am … simply, me, here.
Just me.
Not mama. Not teacher. Not friend. Not wife. Not daughter.
I am … me … again.
And People, that — that is The Gift. This is what I have needed, without knowing I needed.
The reclaiming of Self.
And I suppose, at some points, we must lose ourselves — yes, that I believe is the natural cycle and circle of Life. We lose to find. We forget to remember. We hate to love. We go from bad to good. Happy to sad.
The Divine Dichotomy.
Having FoH … well, there is no greater experience, yet it is soul wrenching work. The most beautiful work. But brutal. There is nothing more profound than truly putting the needs of your child first — and for the first time you realize, you never put anyone first even all those times you thought you did.
Because a baby requires the all of it from you — the physical, emotional and mental all.
And you give that willingly, gladly, because there is nothing more important than ensuring the well being of your own. But it’s hard. It’s lonely. You forget what you were like pre-baby.
You push aside and bury deep the things that used to be so important, the interests you held. You let those slide. You have to. And it’s okay, because that’s just how it is during that new stage of babyhood life.
So now, to have this — something of my own. All mine and all for me.
It’s allowing me to be.
To take the time to sit and be still — in the midst of this gorgeous city that welcomes with open arms.
I am living life and it is so sweet and so good. And so full of what Love is.
Joyeuse Saint-Valentin, People. I love you all.