moms the word for this epoch

my grandmother with my mother

I stumbled over the word epochal yesterday and thought that's the word to use for the arrival of myself into motherhood. I used to say it was an apocalypse in my life when I became a mother, apocalyptic in the sense that my old life was absolutely, completely, over. The word has too many religious senses to it, however, and anyway, people always seem to think I mean something bad.

What I really mean is that the person I was, before my first child was born, had no idea what she was stepping into. I found that the change from not-mother to mother was profound, and I couldn't go back. And I was not prepared. There I was, an innocent walking down the street, and then blam, I was blown into this other existence, a different dimension, where what I did mattered. I think that's the key. What I did before didn't matter, and then it did. It wasn't all about me anymore. New epoch.

my mother with me

And I don't want to go back. That's the astonishing thing, but much as I might whine about how hard it was, learning how to care for infants, then children, then adolescents, now young adults, learning how to back off and respect their ability to get it right, while I was still doubting my own ability to manoeuvre through my life. Endless peanut butter sandwiches, constantly looking for the (sticky) floor under all the rubble. No, I don't mind that the sticky floor days are gone, but I wouldn't go back to pre-motherhood. Nope.  It defies logic, because of course it's about heart. And anyway, they've made me a better person.

Of course it's different now. It's still not all about me, but in a different sense. They're launched into their lives, and now when I hear from them, I feel simply and truly glad that I'm some kind of touchstone (and not an albatross). And I think that's fair enough for me to say.

and then it was my turn

And that doesn't take anything away from me as individual, still working at stuff, still engaged, working on this epoch, the so-called empty nest time. I'm still alive, and intend to be for a very long time. There's lots I still want to do. It's just that now I do things with always the knowledge that I'm somebody's mom. It's never not there. It's not that I'm living through them. It's just that they are alive. It's a gift I didn't realize I was getting, when I thought "I want to have a baby", which was an all-about-me thought. It gets hazier with the next two "I want another" times. I knew what I was doing. Sort of.

So that's one of the marvelous things, is that they taught me about myself (and continue to do so!). I apologize for the slow learning, and any damage I may (probably) have inflicted along the way, but my world is vastly improved by the existence of my children.

So yes, epochal, that's a much better word. No connotations hanging from it, but it certainly carries all the import of becoming mother. It's not a switching over to the dark side (though they will treat you as though that's where you're coming from, for some really brief teen years) but it certainly switches you over to another side. Even more astonishing, you find yourself feeling some sympathy for your own mother, and what she was up against.

To borrow, and repurpose, some words from Elton John, a little message to my kids:

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're [all] in the world

And even though she's gone from the world, thanks to my own mother for bringing me into the mix. I miss her.