Love, work, and redefining identity: An ode to 2024 and what may come

As 2024 draws to a close, and 2025 arrives in the near horizon, many of us are reflecting on what this year has meant to us, and what might be in store.

For me, the biggest once-in-a-lifetime experience was the birth of our son. While the actual birth changed our family to one that was forming to now one that is complete, the months leading up to his arrival was just as important.

Having experienced an alarming and abrupt pregnancy challenge, I found myself leaving work earlier than expected. The sudden medical leave and stepping back from work left me at a loss. In a flash, my orientation to what was truly important centred solely on Baby and our family. Everything else felt significantly less relevant.

And in this cocooning, I found myself with a lot of time.

I felt grief for the part of me that identified as a high-performing, driven, hard-working person. I felt sad to have work friendships wane, the tethers to work life and my identity as a professional loosening, pulling out like a thread in a spool. And in that unspooling and relaxing, I also felt spaciousness, freedom, and wonder.

Such as, “I wonder what I’m going to eat today?” (Because I actually had time to make proper breakfasts as well as sit, eat, and not work simultanously).

Or, “I wonder what plant I’m going to get at Garden Works?” (Again).

Or, “I wonder what I’m supposed to do? Who am I? What is the meaning of all this?” And other existential meanderings of the mind.

I found myself gardening a lot, tending to the soil, digging, seeing new life grow. It felt good to do one thing and to see success in something tangible. I also felt like it was a project that was continuously incomplete - the expanse of the garden felt so vast!

My Midwife suggested kneeling and tending to the soil as exercise for my changing body and to help Baby move into the right birthing position. The luxury of having time and space to garden felt profound. I felt so grateful to live in a country with medical leave support for mothers. I’d oscillate between feeling guilty sometimes, and feeling gratitude and joy. Mostly, I tried to invite good thoughts as much as I could. We’d spend days on end gardening, Baby and I. And as each day passed, the hold on my identity softened. The soil loosened, and so did I.

I also found myself cooking at home more and more. Planning elaborate meals for our family, and giving myself the challenge of creating frugal meals. The challenge to me was fun! I mean, of course a tarte-Normande is completely frivolous to make on a Tuesday afternoon. And while we’re at it, I might as well figure out how to make jars upon jars of home-made clotted cream from scratch.

The days and nights of spaciousness allowed me to invest in not only learning new recipes, but also relationships and community, important health and happiness factors that I’d long put aside in choosing work as the priority. These vitality assets were so important, and yet I’d neglected to make deposits into them in years past.

Cooking became cooking too much. Which led to giving. Which led to impromptu chats with neighbours and friends. I would drop off jars of clotted cream. And in return we’d find old yogurt containers filled with apple sauce at our doorstep.

In time, I felt a little less lost. The existential meanderings didn’t fully go away - I’m still figuring out who I want to be and what I want to do - but I found purpose in remembering myself beyond work. That sense of “me” that is beyond what I do, what I give, what I think, or what I look like. That sense of “me” that is my spirit, that grows and creates life, that exists beyond who “I” am.

And as Baby came into this world, healthy and happy, another cycle of change began. No longer were my husband and I waiting with bated breath, tilling the soil in fervent anticipation.

___He was here. ___

______In our arms.______

____________Complete love. __________

I couldn’t have been more joy-full. I was so grateful my husband was beside me every step of the way.

As Semisonic famously sang, “Closing time. Every new beginning is some other beginning’s end.” As this year draws to a close, and another arrives in the near horizon, I look forward to 2025 with the same wonder as our new born son and the same curiosity as our daughter.

May the best be yet to come.

(A special thanks Faye Lacasse of Oak + Owl Photography for capturing this special moment of our family. Pictured above, my hubby and baby. We are so grateful!)