Emotions

Last night's rehearsal was all about the central emotions of the pieces. As I was listening to the work prepared by my performers, my "team", I was focusing on listening to the emotional connection they were making with the character. I'm sure some of them might have thought I was asking because I couldn't tell. That was not at all the case. I could tell what they were driving at. And talking about it made it very clear to me that they had as much trouble as I did in nailing down a single emotion from the piece.
Reflecting on that has made me realize that it's because being a parent doesn't have a single emotion at a time. I think about times when I was a child and how I could easily focus in on ONE emotion that I was feeling tied into a specific event. This is something I have done time and time again for emotional recall exercises. But there are events that have happened in my life that I cannot narrow down one emotion as the strongest. Childbirth was one of those. It's not simple for me to talk about my feelings at the time. I can talk freely about the physical effects, they are concrete and easy to identify. But the emotions are so difficult to pin down. I felt elation, impatience, fear, happiness, relief, worry and that's not even all of what I felt.
One of my actresses struggled through her monologue because it hit so close to home for her. I knew that when I cast her and I did it anyway. It's not because I wanted her to suffer, and struggle by any means.  It's because I KNOW her. I know her as a sister when it comes to the emotions of motherhood. I haven't experienced the same things she has. I don't have an insight into how she parents her children, that's not what I mean AT ALL. What I DO have is the emotion.
Fear was the primary thing I felt from her monologue. Fear FOR my children. How to reconcile my hopes and dreams with theirs and still love them, and not hurt them. I grew up to face my fears with logic and my fists in some cases. I grew up to be tough. I don't know if that's because I grew up with all boys, or if it's because my mother specifically wanted me to be tough. But I never knew fear until I had children and that's the absolute truth. I feared losing someone that I loved dearly. I feared rejection. I feared loneliness. I feared being alone. I feared drowning (still do that one). But Abbi was born and my fears didn't revolve around ME anymore. I feared that I would hurt her. I feared that I would "screw" her up. I feared that she would hate me because I'm too hard, or too soft. Before she was even born I feared that she wouldn't make it. Isaac was born and I had the same fears, but added more to it. I feared that my kids wouldn't like each other. I feared that they would hurt one another (not because of their actions, mind you). I feared that they would leave me one day and never look back. As I sent them to school and into public interactions my fears were all about what kind of person they would turn out to be. Have I taught them enough good so that they will recognize hate and walk away from it? Have I shown them to love people no matter what, so that they will go forth and accept others and not be judgmental and hurtful? Have I given them the tools to succeed?
The other emotion that came through so strongly for me last night was doubt. Which I think is so closely tied to fear. Doubts about my actions, my words, my choices. Worries about the consequences. I remember clearly the only panic attack I have ever suffered was on my way home from the hospital with Isaac. We had made arrangements for 3 year old Abbi to come home from a friends shortly after we got home with Isaac and on the short trip from the hospital to the house my brain took over and my body responded. I was breathing hard, my heart was racing, and I started sweating profusely.  I remember Jud asking me if I was ok and my response was "I can't do it. Oh, my God, I can't do it all with two kids." I don't know what the trigger was, but I do know that it came from my fears, and my doubts. The end result was Abbi didn't come home until much later in the evening. Until I had gotten home and calmed down and centered myself. Jud was my rock. I sometimes feel so bad for the guys that are exposed to the crazy gamut of emotions that come bursting forth with or without my permission. He must have thought I was stark, raving mad. Being unsure about a second child was likely something that should have been addressed about 9 months sooner than that. I still have my doubts. Mostly surrounding the same kinds of things I talked about in fears.
And this is motherhood for me today. And the more I interact with other mothers the more I realize I'm not alone. I share these feelings with many of them. Even though they have children that are older than mine, younger than mine, even though they have more children than I do, or less. We share these emotions. Fear, and doubt.