Warning- This is a long one :).

Me hiking in the Columbia River Gorge two weekends ago
When does life begin? It is a question being asked a lot these days as a presidential election looms large over all of us. When does motherhood begin? Does it begin when you have sex and hope in the deepest part of you that some sperm found your egg and made a connection? Or when one more day passes on the calender and your period still hasn’t come? When that little plus sign appears as you hopefully sit on the bathroom floor? For the last six years I have been absorbed in motherhood. No one could have explained to me how my heart and body would be turned inside out both literally and figuratively by having children. From the beginning they have been a part of me forming in the core of my body, taking my nutrients, my energy, connected to me physically. Then they were born and the mere overwhelming responsibility for just keeping those tiny lives going was at times too much to bear. As they formed in my body they filled me, emptied me, took me, and changed me. As my days filled with the relentless duties of caring for small children I often wondered, “What has happened to ME? Where has Caroline gone? I love this new life, but has part of me gone forever in the giving of myself to thes new lives?.”

The days flew by as I desperately craved a few spare moments of time to myself without a child hanging on me, peeing or pooping on me, or crying to me. And then, suddenly, as though in a time warp, kindergarten is here. As we close in on our first full week I have struggled with feeling profoundly sad, perhaps even a little depressed. Dropping Eleanor off at preschool this morning I overheard a group of other first time kindergarten moms expressing similar feelings of anxiety, depression, surprising sadness, and a rawness of emotion bubbling to the surface. I wanted to hug these women, many of whose names I just learned last week! I’m not the only one! This is normal. I’m not going crazy! As Rynn blossoms and grows in this new life away from home I am left with the pang and emptiness of letting her grow up. I know she still needs me. Heck, I still need my mommy. But, the center of her days is not me anymore. I don’t know what happens with her every moment, or if she is drinking water, or what she is feeling. I do know the smile on her face when she comes home and the excitement to return the following day. She is growing up. This is a good thing, as Jason reminds me, so why this sadness?

Yesterday, Eleanor and I were crossing the Willamette River to downtown when we were stopped by our bridge being raised to allow the passing of a boat. It was quite exciting to be the first car in line as a very large city bridge rose to vertical right before our eyes. As I waited patiently for what I thought was going to be a big barge moving up the river, I was surprised to look down to see a small elegant sailboat passing gracefully through the bridge’s opening. The gold of the sunlight bounced off the waves of the river cheering the boat on its journey toward the sea. Suddenly, I had this overwhelming urge to be on that boat, to feel the wind in my face, and the sun on my back, to be controlling the sails and yet yielding to the wind. The image has stuck with me providing a picture of my own heart this week. Not only have I realized that inside of me I’m still there, the me that was there before I ever thought of Rynn and Eleanor. It is a changed me, but a me nonetheless. And that me wants to learn to sail (nevermind the necessary things that need to happen to make that a reality…like a job, for instance). My life is opening up into a new season, and this is good. It is exciting and heartwrenching all at the same time to move through these passage ways- whether it be the beginning of motherhood, or retirement, or a job, or a move, or the loss of a loved one that signals a new way of life.

So I come back to the beginning. When does life begin? We begin as an idea in the mind of God. We belong to Him. He holds us through the passageways and changes us in them as well. Our identity is in him and He is our safe harbor.