I got a text from Mark between sessions today that said "Anya misses you." I sent back a quick message and then Mark called, putting a sobbing Anya on the phone. "I miss you, Mama!" she wailed and it took everything in me not to fall apart on the spot. I gave her as much love as a mama can give via phone and Mark assured me she was OK, just tired and getting ready for her nap.
It still blind sided me and knocked me off my game. I had trouble concentrating through the photography session, my heart feeling slightly shattered. What was I doing here? How could I just leave my babies? What kind of mother DID that, anyway? Then I looked around the room and realized that more than half of the women in that room were mamas and they probably had someone missing them too. And yet, here we all were, learning about apertures and tricks with your external flash and how to imagine a superball smashing into someone's face. And while that is in no way (FOR ME) more important than parenting, it doesn't make learning and growing and having an interest outside of my children any less valid.
Oh, but that little tiny voice so full of pain. How do I deal with the way her pain rips into me? I just haven't figured that one out yet.