Bodies, Dance and Motherhood

Reconciling with the Changing Body Pt. 3

Retirement Day #2567 

Several years ago, a crop of bebes in my personal circle elicited nostalgic memories of my own early motherhood. Children bring hope, joy, and an invigorated, rich understanding of love. They are also physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting - and pregnancy is just the warm-up. For dancers & professional athletes who have dedicated their lives in training and cultivating their physicality for artistic, competitive, and professional purposes, these challenges can be particularly discombobulating.

Anyone who has been pregnant knows that one morning you wake up, and voila! Overnight, the titty fairy hath smote; tender breasts occupy a physical space heretofore unoccupied by one’s boobiness. And that’s just the beginning. Hormones, those pesky purveyors of evolution, initiate a maelstrom of frenzied small-human-building activities. Side-effects include morning sickness [poorly named, because you’re sick 24-7], swollen hands, feet, legs, unreliable ligaments and soon, a belly bump where there was no belly bump before. It’s an uncompromising physical reminder of what we intellectually know- that our bodies are temporary vessels of service enabling us to do what we do while we’re in this world – in other words, ALL bodies are on loan. Bodies age – they must, and will, change as long as we are alive. We can temper that chaotic truth with our choices and behaviors, but we don’t own the ship we are tasked to captain – we can maintain it well and sail it responsibly. And here’s the even wilder thought: the fact that our bodies are on loan from the Great Creator [feel free to insert your favored noun] unlocks the door for women’s bodies to do the most astounding creative act of all: make another human.

I recall being surprised by the mixed emotions I experienced when I learned this lesson during my own pregnancies. When a wave of frustration or resentment with the physical changes out of my control wafted over me, I also experienced guilt. I wanted children – I was all in, committed to the miracle and the sacrifice, and privileged to have [for the moment, anyway] the resources to bring them into the world and provide for them: a partner, good job, health benefits, a home. Yet there’s no question I also waffled between excitement and frustration, joy and grief, amply sprinkled with guilt for my ambivalence.

Why? Because that body I dedicated most of my life, energy and resources to cultivate, train, discipline – a body that was profoundly critical to my ability to provide for these bebes – was suddenly compromised. Would I ever “have it back”? No- my body- and my life – were forevermore altered.

Soon after my children were born, I was overwhelmed by a difficult divorce. My love for them summoned a depth of strength, courage, endurance, and resolve that I didn’t know I had. My children made me a better person than I ever thought I could be, inspiring my greatest joys, most fearsome challenges, and deepest woes and worries. As a single mother with no assistance from my ex-husband, caring for my children and maintaining my job required all of my time and energy. For better or for worse, for years I focused on just getting through each day. Those busy days didn’t offer time or energy for committed “me-body” time. I eventually came to terms with this reality, which, interestingly enough, helped me find “me-body” time. Something Zen-esque about that.

How? By letting go of expectations based on a prior reality, doing enough – instead of trying to do it all, and hardest of all - accepting that limitation.

Whatever exhaustion I felt eventually ended. Too soon, I was hosting graduation parties, watching the last rugby game, moving them into college dorms, dropping them off at airports. When those bittersweet markers passed, I wept far more than I ever wept over a sleepless night or a changed body. My children will never know the dancer I was – but that’s ok - they only need to know the mother I am.

And my altered body served me well. I forged a solid career teaching, choreographing and yes – performing – a career that supported those amazing children into adulthood. Do I still fly into jazz splits and thrill to slicing the air with dynamic grand jetes? Ha! nooooo- with or without children, technical prowess will fall to the vagaries of time.

But a life lived in love creates a fulfilling dance of the soul for all time.

Me at 7 months

To paraphrase Melvin from "As Good As It Gets" - they made me want to be a better person