My Two Week Notice to Letting Go

What can I say, cheesy declarations work for me

Sooner or later, forever or temporarily, a mother gives up everything for her child. Career, body, time, money, sleep, and so on. The grace in which she learns to do this, however, is one of the great lessons of motherhood. These transitions can either feel like a punch in the gut, or a beautiful gift. The difference is in learning to let go.

Letting Go is the mature and centered cousin of Giving Up. My journey in getting to know her has been, let's say, dramatic. Saying goodbye to parts of myself turns out to be not very pretty: tears/ fighting/ general shenanigans ensue, mostly directed at my patient and beloved wife.

But I'm getting better. My outbursts are shorter, my perspective longer. I see now, when I loosen the grip on my ego and respond with agency rather than apathy, that I'm not giving up, but rather letting go. I'm not saying goodbye, but rather opening myself to receive a hello. So... all that complaining over loss of sleep? It was really a chance to spend the wee dark hours gaining a complete and irreversible bond with Nug. And the struggle over loss of my figure? Just an opportunity to gain acceptance of my body before I attempt to teach that important lesson to my daughter. I guess that whole "God opens a window" business my mom always nattered about turns out to be decent advice.

So it is with this mindset that I made the big decision to quit my RN job. My two-week notice is in, and I'll be off the market come June. As a mother, I am constantly tested on whether something is worth the fight, and what the fight is trying to tell me. Is it worth the fight for Nug to wear shoes at the playground? Um, no (and she just learned to say the word "barefoot," too cute!). Has it been worth the fight against our family's schedule and stress to continue working?

Work has provided many immeasurable benefits: pride of work, connection to the non-mommy world (well, sort-of!), practice with Spanish, exercise, exposure to new cultures, keeping pace with my technical skills, empathizing with W and her working life (and she to mine), and, of course, the chance to eat alone and to care what my hair looks like! :-) It has also been incredibly difficult to keep up with required trainings, thirteen hour shifts, loss of family time, holiday work, and a cranky W and Nug who miss Mommy. Every night before work, without fail, for an entire year, W would turn to me with sweet eyes and tell me she wished I wasn't going to work. Ugh! Weighing out this decision, therefore, often felt strongly biased towards her needs. And, well, the solitude in Resentment City is kinda nice, but the people are a real bore.

I began realizing that I was fighting not the job or W or my time, but the idea of loss. When you push and push against something, and all it does is push you back, it's probably time to step away from the boulder. It will be there, waiting to be pushed another day. Let go of your ego, respond with agency, step around the boulder and look up. The view is amazing.

My amazing view