Musings of a safari-going mama

So, we went to Africa. Just returned this week from 2.5 weeks in Tanzania and Kenya. The trip of a lifetime, everyone who hears about it says. And it was, no question. Both of us would go back in about 0.2 seconds (with Lillian this time, mind you). Africa is a place that gets inside of you, if you let it. It is raw and real and powerful and painful and beautiful beyond imagining. I spent as much time as possible taking it all in--staring at the equatorial sun as it raced to the top of the sky; listening to the wind in the long grass; feeling the cracked earth beneath my feet; feeling the prick of a thorn against my palm; watching an almost full moon hang majestically between a million stars; enjoying a campfire's radiant heat; sensing the vast space of it all--gifts from a gracious God. And that doesn't even take any of the animals into account. Or the people. Or that fact that I've spent a measly seven weeks there and am in no way an expert.


I am so grateful to my in-laws for watching Lillian so that I could have all of these experiences. I definitely got a lot of flack from people for going, and mostly on the sly. "Oh wow, you're brave. I could never leave my child. In fact, I have never left my ten-year old for more than two days at a time." Or, a favorite from the church nursery yesterday: "Oh, you're back! Has Lillian forgiven you for leaving her for so long?" No doubt I am overly sensitive to these comments since I was very anxious about leaving her, and no doubt there are people who do, in fact, think that I'm a terrible mother. Now, before your fingers fly to the comment button to reassure me that I'm not, let me say that I am not bothered by people thinking that. Even typing this shocks me, a sufferer of FONPP (Fear of Not People Pleasing), but it's true. I love my child fiercely, and no one can take that away from me. It felt unnatural to be separated from her, but I survived. She survived. Thrived, even. Lillian is incredibly happy and healthy, and I'm so glad that my mother in law got to experience her huge smile when you come to get her out of her crib, or her cheeky "I heard you say no but I'm pretending that I didn't" grin, or any of 1000 other joys that come in everyday life with a baby. I cried when we said goodbye to her at security, and cried when I seized her out of Ellen's arms 2.5 weeks later in the exact same place. But I wouldn't trade the few weeks in between for anything.

As a mom (as a woman?), I feel like I'm constantly negotiating basic identity questions. Who is Ashley, vs. Thomas' wife, vs. Lillian's mom, vs. any of the other roles I play. Well, for a few weeks, my role as Lillian's mom faded to the background a bit. I missed her desperately and looked at pictures and talked about her constantly, but I got to remember what life was like before she existed. I got to drink wine and stay up late; I got to be a part of interesting discussions about African aid and conservancy projects; I got to hang out with my husband and make new friends and look at the stars and enjoy family time apart from nap times and diaper changes. Of course I am glad to be back to those things and wouldn't trade that precious little life for anything, but it was exhilarating to step back for a bit and remember why I am so blessed to have all of these things.