Big Dreams with Small Children
I’m 39 years old, almost 39 weeks pregnant with my 5th baby, and my oldest child recently turned 5. Occasionally, during a brief moment to myself, I feel a kick in my belly after a busy day as I sit down to rest and I just think about this simple fact of life… I’m 39 years old, almost 39 weeks pregnant with my 5th baby, at the height of my career and only at the start of my potential. Sometimes I smile to myself, sometimes I close my eyes and have to take a deep breath, and sometimes I shake my head in disbelief. Each time, the thought feels like an overabundance of blessings, a flood of good things that overwhelm me, and I can hardly keep my head above water trying to give all of it the energy and appreciation that it deserves.
If you had asked me if I wanted kids during my mid-20s, I would have never told you that I saw myself with children in my future, let alone 5! Even as I neared 30 years old and married the man of my dreams, I can’t say that I had a strong maternal urge. And if it wasn’t for the way I fell in love with Ricky and the way he loved me, I’m not sure if I would’ve seen myself having babies with anyone else on this planet during this lifetime. I was fulfilled and complete with Ricky alone. Our careers were on a positive trajectory and we were on the same wavelength when it came to our professional ambitions. We were stamping our passports together as we traveled the world and indulging in romantic excursions at our leisure. We explored city after city, danced the night away, created our own adventures, read books all day, trained for marathons, ordered bottle after bottle of wine as we chatted over dinner. He embraced my creative energy and spontaneity. And I couldn’t get enough of his charm and endless displays of affection. It was just us and it was perfect. Without a doubt, I considered myself a happy and fulfilled childless woman living with tremendous fortune, purpose, and gratitude.
A few years later, things changed. Something changed. Not me, not my aspirations, not my marriage, and not my idea of fulfillment, but something shifted. Til this day, I cannot pinpoint what exactly changed. Perhaps, a compilation of being long distance for a year as we completed fellowships in separate parts of the country, getting a little older, one baby shower invitation after another, societal pressures, the anticipation of transitioning from a physician trainee to a physician attending, and the many invalid expectations of being a woman. Whatever it was, starting a family made its way on our priority list. The best way I can describe this priority was that becoming a mama appeared on my list, but not a gesture of motherhood appeared on my vision board. And like all things that make it to the list for a productive and proactive woman, it got checked off and we had Skylar.
Chapters of motherhood like pregnancy, labor, postpartum, the newborn phase, and for some, going back to work, are not only challenging, but for a high energy woman with a sky-high aspirations and a fast-paced lifestyle, it felt like I was being forced to slow down against my will. My freedom was stripped, and overnight, my responsibilities, my energy, my time, my body was designated to our little baby. We become selfless. I lost myself between the hormones, sleep deprivation, and this major life change. It was so much all-consuming that I even found it difficult to be a decent wife let alone an adequate mother. At first, I wasn’t sure it was supposed to feel this way, and then when I didn’t regain my sense of self for months, I figured that maybe this was me as a mom. It took time, an enormous amount of effort, and unwavering support from my husband that helped me realize this was not me at all (refer to blog post “3 Shades of Postpartum Blues”). However, in order to feel and be myself, I had to put it effort. Occasionally, the concept doesn’t even sound right to me and trying to explain it can sound a little crazy. I have to work hard and be dedicated to maintaining the self that once came naturally now that I have taken on this new role of mommy. I am constantly doing this, and with each addition to our family, the dedication required to be myself becomes more and more demanding. I refuse to lose myself again. I loved the person I was before I had children and I do not want to be selfless for them. Because losing myself means losing sight of my dreams, my passions, my motivation, which ultimately, leads to losing my happiness. The risk is unacceptable. And at times, this means I forego quality time on the weekend with my family to drive to Philly for a book signing. Other times, it means flying with 4 children under 4 to another country to satisfy my desire to travel. It might even mean I accept my husband’s suggestion to leave 3 children under three years old just 72hrs after giving birth to Naomi to go spend 3 weeks in a studio airbnb in order to finish the first draft of my memoir (read more on blog post, “Bye Bye Baby”). It can seem paradoxical, but I am willing to move mountains to merely be me.
It may even appear more puzzling as I prepare to bring baby number 5 into this world despite understanding what it takes to be mommy and to be Felicia. Especially, when I admitted that I had purpose and fulfillment long before the idea of raising tiny humans. The difference now is that my purpose has deepened and my perspective is profound. And everything I do and every decision I make becomes more meaningful. My days are richer, my life is more vibrant, and my heart is bigger. Rather than let go of my big dreams because I have small children, I get to hold onto them tighter than ever and share all of its glory with them. And yes, the effort it will take to achieve the big dreams and manifest them into reality, will be rigorous, and to some spectators, damn near impossible. However, the drive to achieve it all has become amplified by 5 magnificent children that believe in them as much as Ricky and I do.
I’m 39 years old, almost 39 weeks pregnant with my 5th baby, and she will slow me down to a pace that I do not typically prefer. But, she will also remind me of the beauty that comes with being fully present. With this presence always comes clarity. And as with each of her siblings, I will be reassured and encouraged to keep doing what it takes to be Felicia because it is that same force that also makes me the mommy that I am. I have big dreams, and I have small children. I have learned that with self-regard and some serious effort, they never have to be mutually exclusive. In fact, when I embrace that energy, I have found that big dreams with small children can be serendipitously intertwined to create magic.
