I remember her, so tiny and beautiful, sweet and new. And I remember me, innocent and hopeful, exhausted and adrift. Something changed in me the day she was born, but I didn't know that yet.
Of course I remember some things—where I lived, what I did most days, what I hoped for in motherhood. But I cannot remember what it FEELS like to be me-before-kids.
What was meant to entertain, educate and occupy our children, has become the object of frustration, distraction and pain (ever step on a Lego barefoot?).
One of the hardest things with this is the uncertainty—it's incredibly challenging when you don't fully understand why, let alone if, or when, he may return.
But, little by little I started remembering why I founded my business in the first place. I remembered how wonderful my clients were and how satisfying it felt to use the intellectual part of my brain.
