24. Ellie
Chapter twenty-four
Ellie
“ W ow. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” My body feels like it just woke up from a year-long nap. A little sweaty, topped with a little ache. I’ll be sore tomorrow.
“We should have done this sooner,” Mom says, leaning back in her wrought iron chair as she peruses the menu. I don’t know why she bothers. We both know she’s getting the quiche and I’m getting the banana bread.
My favorite hidden gem in the city, Pat’s Cats. The owner, Pat, believe it or not, loves cats, and the entire café is decorated with mismatched cat pieces. It’s chaos, whimsy, humor, and cuteness wrapped into one historic home turned restaurant. In the cold months, they use multiple patio heaters so they don’t lose the space to Ohio’s cold winter and unpredictable spring seasons. The result is a secluded slice of heaven that feels like a fairy tale. Evergreen trees surround us, twinkle lights decorating their branches. Small, delicate chandeliers dangle above each of the four tables. Music drifts softly through the speakers, a classical piano soundtrack.
“Did you talk to Jake?” I ask, eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“A little birdy might have mentioned that someone was missing yoga class, and I might have borrowed the idea. I needed a little inspiration for my puzzle piece. It’s been years since we’ve taken a class together, and I know you’ve been wanting to try the new studio since it’s so close to your house.”
“The instructor was incredible. I already want to go back,” I say before taking a sip of my tea.
“We could make it a monthly mother-daughter date if you want? I’m not opposed to the post-yoga brunch, of course.” She smiles and holds my hand while she keeps searching the menu.
My eyes fill with tears. It’s impossible for me to hold myself together in front of my mom when I want to fall apart. Around anyone else, it’s almost natural. But in front of her, all my strongest armor falls away and I feel like I’m nine years old again, stepping into her arms and asking her to keep me safe from the reality of the world. Coming out of class today has me feeling extra sensitive.
“I’d like that.” She must hear the shake in my voice, thick with emotion.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I giggle as tears fall. “This past year has felt like I’ve been stuck in a pattern of surviving. It was nice today to just…connect with my body like that. It made me realize how much I’ve been ignoring what it needed since…everything changed.”
I have complicated feelings about my body. I’ve never been what you’d call skinny. I’d describe my pre-baby body as medium build or average. I gained weight, too much weight per my OB—fuck her very much—during my pregnancy.
I lost almost none of it.
My body looks nothing like it did before. It feels nothing like it did before.
Exercising and good nutrition are the last thing on my mind when my mental health is tanking and I haven’t slept in a year. Plus, my body is a little busy making food for my son.
Between trying to work and be a good parent, wife, friend, and daughter, who has time to take care of themselves?
But today, having an hour to myself, my body untouched and unneeded, eyes closed, and breaths synced with the instructor’s pacing, felt unreal. The calming scent of essential oils filled the air, and several salt rocks lining the room gave off just enough light to navigate the space while still making the whole experience feel almost dreamlike. Everything about the class felt like I had stepped into an alternate reality, and the splash from diving back into my daily struggle is going to be a stark contrast.
“You’re a mom, so I know you understand sacrifice,” Mom says. “You know what it means to choose to stay still, watching your child sleep on your chest when you could really use a good meal, a bathroom break, and a nap. You know what it means to give up sleep to comfort another and be everything that they need. You know the impossible struggle of trying to be everything to everyone, everywhere, all the time. If I could tell myself anything after you were born, it would be to trust myself, love myself, and find ways to take breaks when I can.”
“Taking a break feels impossible most days.”
“That’s why I love that Dom and you are doing this. Maybe it’s a good push to remind you that you can take time away. Plus, you know you can always call your father and me when you guys need a hand.” She pauses, sliding her menu onto the table, giving me her full attention. “I hope these special moments give you time to focus on more than just surviving . Do you think it’s helping?” my mom asks, her voice lifted with hope.
I know it hurts her to watch me struggle. The guilt that comes with knowing I’m causing her stress weighs on me. Add it to my mental health tab.
“I think so,” I say, hesitant to get her hopes up. “I’ve had a lot of fun with everything so far. Everyone’s put a lot of thought into it. I’m really grateful.”
“And things are good at home?”
“Yeah, things are…good.” How much has Dom told her? I know he would never talk about our sex life with my parents of all people, but it’s clear she knows something about our relationship is off. If anyone could offer me insight about how to navigate marriage after kids, it’d be my mom, right?
“Did you and Dad ever go through a…roommate phase?” I ask tentatively. “In your marriage, I mean. A time when you were so focused on life that it just got in the way of feeling like a couple?”
“Oh, honey, of course we did,” she says, sipping from her tea before pouring us both more from the pot .
“But you two always seemed so effortlessly in love. I always remember you being happy together.”
My mom laughs. Hard. Literally wiping tears from her eyes.
“Oh, honey. I’m so relieved to hear that’s what you remember. It takes a lot of work to keep love alive for as long as we have. A lot of messing it up too. We got so many things wrong. We argued, we didn’t make time for each other, we got stuck in that survival rut too. It doesn’t last forever, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve more . You two just need to figure out a way that works for you in this season of life. It doesn’t look the same for every couple. And with a man like Dom, you know it’s going to look like…well, like this .” She gestures to her and me, sitting here today because my loving husband had to create an entire fucking game for me.
I love everything about that man. It used to be easy to show it.
“He doesn’t know how to half-ass anything,” I say.
“Neither of you do, Ellie. I know this last year has been hard on you, but I want you to be gentle with yourself. It’s okay to have doubts. It’s okay to feel insecure. But don’t shut down, please. We’re here for you, always.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you with my whole heart, Ellie.”