When I was pregnant, I completed a seven month clinical practicum at a substance abuse treatment center for a (largely) homeless population of inner city women. I worked with some of the women individually, but, for the most part, I did group work. We talked about everything, really. Because when you're THERE, homeless, with 2 or three kids along and a nasty heroin addiction, there's not much left to conceal. It was an interesting experience. For all of the reaching out, empathizing, and counseling I did, I think the most important piece of my connection with these ladies had to do with my being pregnant.
Girrrrrlllllllllllll, you gettin' big! Shoot.
There was a craft closet there---full of lots of really great paper, pencils, paint, and fuzzy stuff---one of the administrators gave me a key because I also led the Healing Through Art Group (my favorite, of course). I would go in there for 15 minute breaks every now and then just to sigh.
My supervisor was this really laidback (former) alcoholic woman who knitted and burned patchouli in her office. I hate patchouli. Seriously, the smell doesn't just gross me out---it pisses me off. I considered not taking the practicum because I didn't know if I could handle the stench. Anyway, she was addicted to hot tea, which I love, and would bring in all sorts of stuff that was good for pregnancy. In between therapy sessions, we'd sit in there and talk about life---what it's like being pregnant, working in that crazy place (and sort of appreciating it)---and what it's like having kids.
She had three---two girls and a boy. They were teenagers. They called a lot and she was always so happy to talk to them. She never seemed overwhelmed. She took time for herself to go to AA meetings and other things---she loved her massage therapist---and I'll never forget what she said to me on my last day there.
"When the baby is born, don't try to do it all, Ashley. Okay? Just let it go. Let the house be messy. Take a break from school. It's what needs to be done."
So, that isn't me. I kept going and plowed through it all---school, housekeeping (ahem), practicum, breastfeeding, etc. It would have been so much harder for me to do otherwise---a conscious effort. But I STILL think of the way she looked at me over the top of her glasses, her eyes all knowing, and think that maybe that kind of wisdom comes from having been through Baby #1. Right?
Could you let it all go?
6 Backseat Drivers:
Not a snowball's chance in hell that I could let it all go. Letting go just some of it would fill me with guilt and make me feel worse.
hells no.
even now, six years into it, i still can't let it go and constantly get disappointed in myself.
Nope couldn't let it go. Still cannot let it go. Hence all the illness this summer, stress is abound. I'm getting a huge lesson this year. She is right - let it go.
nope, obviously. not the vaccuuming, at least. but i still think she was probably right.
and you were really cute when you were preggers.
kisses.
I know. I'm thinking that if there is a baby #2 I'm going to have to hire a doctor to be here with us at the house. Because for us? Exhaustion equals sick.
Linds- really. Cute? Or just fun to look at?
:-)
ermmmmmm.....I have to admit I found it pretty easy to live in pajamas the first year of Number One Son's life; to let my roots grow in and to stop shaving my legs. I guess I found it easy to let ME go. Youngest is four and I still haven't quite climbed back from that long, slow slide.
I think more important than "letting go" is "Being present." If you are truly where you are with all your being, the other stuff just naturally falls away.
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