Priorities

I actually wrote up my first draft of this correspondence two days ago. I completely discarded all of it upon review today. Like my 34 week pregnant body, mind, and emotions, it was a jumbled, broken mess of an essay.

There is only one word that can describe my current state and it is feral. I’m not rabidly slinking around some alley, picking at trashed banana peels. No – this ferality is a reversion to a more primal state of the human animal being. 

Real life picture of my current inner state: a space cadet.

My emotions come and go in tidal waves: from a depth of love and protectionism that has me (almost) baring my teeth, lioness-like, to paralytic fear over potentially doing something to harm the being inside of me who literally no one else on the planet can advocate. 

My body feels somehow stronger than ever, but on the verge of dismantling at the joints. I wake up every hour to an arm that has fallen asleep, as my blood plasma volume has increased nearly 50%. An almost constant sciatic nerve pain in my left hip, coupled to the fact that all of my leggings can barely fit over my ass, is a not-so-gentle reminder of my pelvis widening in preparation for a 90th percentile head to come out of it soon. I can still do 50 squats and deadlifts in a workout, but by 9pm, standing seems out of the question.

And the mind…my mind feels in limbo between two realities. The first is the logical, linear dimension in which we all function. Work, chores, task lists, obligations. The second is the realm of the intuitive. Not quite a dream state or the subconscious, this is a state I would define as present moment awareness. We all experience it, maybe in a yoga class or when seeing something of natural beauty, like a spectacular sunset. Pregnancy, for me, has been the most I’ve ever occupied this state in my life. How could you not be present when a tiny elbow sticks out of your abdomen? Perhaps my brain can no longer focus for long periods on website development or a spreadsheet, but that is because there is a whole interior world that is continually demanding my attention.

A truly unhinged snapshot of me, post workout, on my patio (as they were cleaning the air ducts inside my apartment), with the air filter on because it smelled like cigarettes from a downstairs neighbor.

Which leads me to the title of this piece: priorities. Once I was a girl of 12, then of 24, who swore that children were not a part of her fate. At 32, I got married and now, at 34, I am bearing my first child (yes, I said I want more). And yet, this year I also launched a production consultancy business, freelanced with two production companies, financed and filmed a short of my own, and taught between 10-20 private fitness and yoga lessons per week. I acted in one thing and it was of my own making. And, now, I dive into the uncharted waters of motherhood. 

The priorities of my life have ebbed and flowed, but more so this year than ever before. And, like many women before me, I suddenly see the complexities of holding so many responsibilities at once. I have no intention nor desire of leaving work, as I love what I do. But the sense of purpose I once derived from it no longer holds the number one spot in my heart. Like the sea of shifting physical, mental and emotional currents that presently color my existence, I feel deeper waters being churned to the surface. A new sun – my son – will enrich those dark waters with oxygen and new life. And then, as what happens with all life, he will one day bear the responsibility of himself on his own, a new current will rise, and my priorities will change once again.

The waters of life have many colors. I prefer mine Caribbean.