“Of them ? Truly ?” When I found out I was expecting twins, I said a lot of silly phrases. With the future dad, we went into a nonsense contest! Between us, we were very strong: “In one go, it’s done!”, Or “twins, that rhymes with fun”. I looked happy. Was I? Hard to say. I was anesthetized.
It was neutral: it was what we said, okay, and it worked according to our plan. I did not approach the news head-on, since at the beginning I did not want children. It was a pretty problematic subject between my husband and I, although I had been clear from the start. We had been together for ten years and, over time, my refusal had become a real pain for him. I reflected, for him, on me. I tried to find out where this total lack of biological clock came from. And one day, out of love for him, I decided to have a child. I didn’t want to be a mom. I did it for my husband, and for the idea of the little being to whom I was going to offer the possibility of a life.
>>>>> To read also: “I love being pregnant”
(…) The important thing at that time was that I was still free. I had not understood or taken the measure of the upheaval that my motherhood was going to represent. And they arrived: Tancrède and Trystan. Two larvae and panic at first sight. Small wonders and immense love, in the second. But we had to live this shift. A twin birth is not a detail, but being a mother is not an absolute revelation for everyone either: you are not born a mother. It falls on us differently, and each one experiences it in their own way and at their own pace. When I saw their two little bodies arrive in my room, I thought a bad word (which begins with “pu” and ends with “ain”): it is not politically correct to admit it, but this moment was anxiety-provoking. And then, I plunged my eyes into those of one of my sons. There, I understood the supernatural aspect of the adventure, in the sense that we do not control anything, where we do not decide. It’s independent of the will, no matter how much you plan, life is happily working out so that sometimes things happen differently.
Coming home was the beginning of the end: one finger in the gear, and I was caught. I couldn’t go back and I had to pedal, except to break my face in the infernal circle where everything was linked, without pause, without help. I had made my children out of love, carried by my husband’s promise to be present, by my side. However, when the children arrived, my husband went to New York for six months. There, a major theme of our couple was built: the initial betrayal. The contract of trust was broken. Yet he had said: “I will be there.” I returned to work, but the depression intensified. My priority in life had shifted and I had changed my perspective on things and existence: suddenly, I found my job meaningless, fighting like a gladiator to sell advertising space, while ‘we live on a dying planet. I was disgusted. I no longer found any meaning in feeding this unhealthy circle.
>>>>> To read also: “I hate being pregnant”
My husband came back from New York and we moved to Mexico City. I was enthusiastic. I am the daughter of an expatriate and I know these automatisms of life well: the only problem for me was not to leave France, it was to become a housewife with frustration, perpetual questioning, the little bike in the head: “Am I really going to be nothing?” “
A month, six months, a year… I felt that I was declining, that my CV was losing lines. There was change, the sun, but always the purees to mix and nothing but a mill in my head. I went through a great depression. My couple smashed like glasses on the floor. There had been that initial loss of confidence, coupled with physical and intellectual exhaustion. I could not find salvation with my husband, because he himself had his worries, plunged into a world of work that was complicated to manage. I communicated less and less. To admit that I was sinking would have been a failure. Being a stay-at-home mom is supposed to be easier than fighting in the professional arena, right? So I spent a long time ruminating, turning this mess in my head until the adaptation to the country was made: we spoke Spanish, the children were at school and I was finally able to ask myself question from me. I believe that we need time for weariness, time to ruminate. And it was my Spanish teacher who saved my life. She saw my tears in her eyes when she asked me what I did for a living. My body refused the situation. Since then, I have learned to listen to him, by the way. My teacher, just by his question, made me change my eyes on myself. I had to react.
I regularly wrote posts about our life to inform the family, and I decided to turn these emails into a blog. The blog’s platform has grown in Mexico City. I wrote five posts per week, four on parental issues and the couple, and the fifth on a cultural outing. I gained confidence. Writing every day is hard work and commitment. I had no proof of what I was capable of and wanted to improve. Faced with this warm welcome, I asked myself the question of the next step: lots of people were encouraging me. And I decided to write a book. Symbolically, I won three francs six sous, but that a publisher agreed to publish me, it was proof that someone in the professional world recognized that I had a value… To be “validated” a been very important!
Today, I can say that I have found my way: I adapt my professional life to my new life, so I am independent and I realize that it is my passion. Writing made me come to terms with myself and my situation. I never knew what I wanted to do, I had not found “my thing”. When I entered Sciences Po, I was vomiting: this path was not for me. Yes, listen to what your body is telling you, it knows before you do! I can say today that traveling is my DNA. I also know that someone can do you both good and bad. It is our human condition. At one point, my husband was the cause of my misfortunes, but he was also the one who allowed me to get out of it, giving me the life I need. As for my children, whom I saw as a source of discomfort and incapacity, they are also the ones who paradoxically got me out of the well. They exhausted and revealed me. They also provided me with my first subject for writing …
Extracts collected by Jessica Bussaume