the birth of a new reality

He’s my world. Ever since our first gaze, that first morning when the sky turned pink and I sang him his first lullaby. It almost felt like the world was reset and a new reality began. It is hard to describe, that switch in consciousness. It has happened many times. Every time is different. But it usually involves meeting with a new version of myself. This time, I could not find her.

He was everything there was in this new reality. For at least 4 months, that is all there was. And even after, he remained a force of nature rumbling through my world, reshaping it, reforming it, restructuring it. It was not until a year later that I could think of my own world. Once his world had finished birthing, I could slowly crawl into my own. 

What I found was not what I left. Everything needed to be readjusted. But I was too tired. I was too much in pain (physically, emotionally I was full). I could not find the strength to enjoy seeing his world being created day by day. I could only watch and wonder when would I return to mine. I only reminded myself constantly that everything is temporary, including his presence in my reality. And the fact that I could see his being form and even take a part in shaping it, was an honor of the greatest heights. So I decided to slow down time and just watch and love. That was all that was expected of me. To love him and nothing more. And I did, and I do and I will continue to do so. So much sometimes it hurts, but it hurts only if it does not fit. So in order to make it stop I need to give it back. In this loop of love exchange. Until... I decided it was time to also love myself.

It took a while. It took some exploration and failed attempts. Stroke by stroke, page by page, routine by routine. Self-care became self-love. Finding pockets of time to express this love became a journey, a challenge I decided to take on full heartily. 

I remembered I am not just a mother. I am a writer. I am an artist. I am a dreamer. I am the creator of loving things. I am a home keeper. I am strong and able to challenge myself for fun. I live life and not just let it pass by. I am a woman. I am a girl. I am much more, much more than just his world. I am my own world, my own universe. 

The more I loved him, the more I needed to love myself. When mothers do not realize this, they feel the burden instead of the blessing. The honor of taking part in shaping a new reality. 

So I love him and I love me, and this endless exchange will never end.

This is our reality. 

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