I don’t make a habit of reading back these
entries. They are much like messages in bottles; once composed they are cast
out into the fathomless ocean of the internet, free to be read wherever they
wash up. My earnest words; my heartfelt attempts to communicate the enormity,
the joy, and the struggles of motherhood, sally forth into the big blue yonder
like a flock of eager seagulls. Now and then I scan the horizon for a reply,
and when I spot one arriving from far overseas I am overcome with exhilaration.
It seems that many aspects of the journey into parenthood are universal, and it
is hugely gratifying to think that you are understood by people you will most
likely never meet, that your words are treasured and your emotions echoed. That
the fear and anxiety you feel is collective. I am buoyed by this commonality,
it makes me braver, better, happier.
Nonetheless while composing this entry I
found myself re-reading some early entries, seeking to recall my emotions
shortly post-birth when I was unable to ride my bike. The first few weeks of
pushing the pram. Now that cycles with Felix are part and parcel of our daily
routine it seems impossible that we were ever grounded but grounded we were.
How I longed for the freedom and swiftness of cycling, how bogged down I felt
by the buggy! A hare trapped in the trundling body of a tortoise. And yet in
hindsight those early days - our October strolls in flaming autumn colour -
were fundamental. Like a dry stone wall being built progress was slow,
for this was a process that could not be rushed. Healing had to take place, and
I had to adjust to my new sedate pace. No more rushing around hare-eyed on my
bike, forever late, forever in a hurry to get somewhere, do something, pack
more in. I learnt to love the pram and its measured, contemplative tempo, and
with every passing day, week, month, the tiny being nestled inside it grew and
with it my love.
And now - at last - the time has come. Four wheels have become two as Felix and I ride again. The foetal Felix bobbed merrily in his womb as mummy rode for miles and miles, unhampered by her bulging belly. If anything as he grew inside me and my stomach became a fit-to-burst watermelon I felt the relief of riding as compared to walking. Heavy feet that felt flattened by the extra weight could still push pedals effortlessly; overladen joints relaxed and became supple again. My heart pounded and with it his, our blood flowed together as we cycled in perfect harmony, the ultimate tandem.
The moment I put Felix in his new bike
seat and cycled away together is one I will always remember. Every wobble made
my heart race with fear, every slight shift threatened to throw me off course,
made me take a deep steadying breath and remember what precious cargo I
carried. As we made our careful progress I glanced behind to see what he was
doing; his mouth was hanging open, gaping in sheer amazement as the world
flashed by us. In his eyes was all the wonder of the universe, the incomparable
freshness of experiencing something for the very first time. My heart swelled
with a love so profound it was painful, and my whole body felt lighter than
air. As we cycled alongside the river on our way home the
water shone blue as the midsummer sky. Small white sails flashed brightly in
the distance. The verdant green of the willows and poplars reflected in the
water as we rode past, the briny river water whispering of its journey to and
from the sea. The adventure was only just beginning….
Nonetheless while composing this entry I
found myself re-reading some early entries, seeking to recall my emotions
shortly post-birth when I was unable to ride my bike. The first few weeks of
pushing the pram. Now that cycles with Felix are part and parcel of our daily
routine it seems impossible that we were ever grounded but grounded we were.
How I longed for the freedom and swiftness of cycling, how bogged down I felt
by the buggy! A hare trapped in the trundling body of a tortoise. And yet in
hindsight those early days - our October strolls in flaming autumn colour -
were fundamental. Like a dry stone wall being built progress was slow,
for this was a process that could not be rushed. Healing had to take place, and
I had to adjust to my new sedate pace. No more rushing around hare-eyed on my
bike, forever late, forever in a hurry to get somewhere, do something, pack
more in. I learnt to love the pram and its measured, contemplative tempo, and
with every passing day, week, month, the tiny being nestled inside it grew and
with it my love. And now - at last - the time has come. Four wheels have become two as Felix and I ride again. The foetal Felix bobbed merrily in his womb as mummy rode for miles and miles, unhampered by her bulging belly. If anything as he grew inside me and my stomach became a fit-to-burst watermelon I felt the relief of riding as compared to walking. Heavy feet that felt flattened by the extra weight could still push pedals effortlessly; overladen joints relaxed and became supple again. My heart pounded and with it his, our blood flowed together as we cycled in perfect harmony, the ultimate tandem.
The moment I put Felix in his new bike
seat and cycled away together is one I will always remember. Every wobble made
my heart race with fear, every slight shift threatened to throw me off course,
made me take a deep steadying breath and remember what precious cargo I
carried. As we made our careful progress I glanced behind to see what he was
doing; his mouth was hanging open, gaping in sheer amazement as the world
flashed by us. In his eyes was all the wonder of the universe, the incomparable
freshness of experiencing something for the very first time. My heart swelled
with a love so profound it was painful, and my whole body felt lighter than
air. As we cycled alongside the river on our way home the
water shone blue as the midsummer sky. Small white sails flashed brightly in
the distance. The verdant green of the willows and poplars reflected in the
water as we rode past, the briny river water whispering of its journey to and
from the sea. The adventure was only just beginning….
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