Északi kalandok: A tengertől a hullámvasútig

3

2024-ben megszületett a kislányom. Ám senki, de senki nem sejthette, hogy mi fog következni. Hosszú heteket töltött inkubátorban, tőlem távolt a rengeteg csipogás között. Szoptatni nem tudtam, de fejtem és gyomorszondával megkapta, amire szüksége volt. Nagyon szerettem volna szoptatni, de kevés volt a tejem. Komfort szopizni nem tudott. Csak itthon ültem és szerettem volna, ha nekünk is meglenne a bújás az ölelés. Ekkor került képbe a rugalmas kendő. Ajándékba kaptam. És amint felkötöttem, tudtam ez a mi bujcsink. Hetekig csak 3 órànként ölelhettem. De az első napokban meg sem foghattam. Valahol ezt gyógyította meg bennem a hurcizás. Ahogy nőtt, csatos hordozóra cseréltük a rugalmas kendőt. Miután azt is kinőtte egy toodler méretű félcsatos lett az igazi. Ma már (1,5 éves) nem csak a bújást és az ölelést szolgálja. Hanem mára egy eszköz lett, amivel új élményeket gyűjthetünk. Mert mindent is elmegyünk felfedezni/megmászni. Mert a hàtamról faleveleket lehet szedni, ki lehet pattanni szaladgálni, és hatalmasat lehet aludni is. A sebet begyógyította. Makk egészséges igazi nagylány, aki végül megtanult szopizni is.

1

Moving away from my childhood home to an entirely new continent felt like stepping into a life that didn’t belong to me, at least not yet. The reality of it only truly hit once I arrived. Surrounded by people, I was still deeply alone, carrying a quiet anxiety that made everything feel distant and unfamiliar. For the first year, I thought it was the place that unsettled me. But it wasn’t the streets, the buildings, or the city itself, it was the absence of the people who once made everything feel safe. I moved through this new world like I was looking at it through a window just like the picture: Close enough to see, but never really part of it. Beyond that invisible barrier, there was so much waiting, new experiences, new connections, a whole life I hadn’t allowed myself to step into. I was holding myself back, staying in what felt safe, even if it meant feeling stuck. After I got comfortable, I finally started to explore more. I opened the door instead of watching from the outside. And for the first time, this unfamiliar world didn’t just feel overwhelming, it felt full of possibility. It wasn’t bad after all.

1

Moving away from my childhood home to an entirely new continent felt like stepping into a life that didn’t belong to me, at least not yet. The reality of it only truly hit once I arrived. Surrounded by people, I was still deeply alone, carrying a quiet anxiety that made everything feel distant and unfamiliar. For the first year, I thought it was the place that unsettled me. But it wasn’t the streets, the buildings, or the city itself, it was the absence of the people who once made everything feel safe. I moved through this new world like I was looking at it through a window just like the picture: Close enough to see, but never really part of it. Beyond that invisible barrier, there was so much waiting, new experiences, new connections, a whole life I hadn’t allowed myself to step into. I was holding myself back, staying in what felt safe, even if it meant feeling stuck. Now, I’m choosing differently. I’m opening the window instead of watching from the outside. And for the first time, this unfamiliar world doesn’t just feel overwhelming, it feels full of possibility. A whole new adventure that needs to be unraveled.