Nicola Harrison is falling apart ...
I, the intrepid traveller, Nicola the Fearless, lone trotter of the globe, no corner of the earth too remote...blah, blah, have been reduced, by motherhood, to a mere shadow of my former self. These days, it's hard to believe that I'm the same woman who set off, alone, for Africa, with nothing in her bag but a toothbrush and a change of knickers. NO PLACE TOO WILD, that was my motto.
Tomorrow I'm off to Bangladesh for ten days. For once I am not travelling alone. Hubby is coming with me. Our two boys, 12 and 14, are more than happy for us to go... and my parents are coming to look after them. All the arrangements are in place, it's the chance of a lifetime. I should be ecstatic.
Instead I am in torment. I haven't slept for five nights, tossing and turning in bed, weeping profusely, howling and gnashing my teeth. And the reason for this bizarre behaviour? I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE THE CHILDREN.
This, in itself, isn't a new thing. I've always got sick and distraught about leaving the kids. Normal mother stuff. But these last few days its been different. Super-turbo-charged distress flares going up all over the sky. I am incapacitated by fear.
I can only assume it's because my husband is coming with me. That the two of us are going. If something happens to us both, then the boys will be orphans. Which is a truly dreadful thought, especially now they're older. Because, although they are more physically independent, they now need their parents in a different, more complex way than when they were babies. The relationship has changed. They are real people, now, and we have all become irreplaceable to each other.
Everyone's fed up with me freaking out. The children groan, 'For God's sake, mother, just go, you're driving us all mad.' And the husband despairs of it all. "Just tell me, yes or no, are you coming on this trip or not?" But then I chat to my mum on the phone and she cheers me up. She tells me that it's entirely normal for a loving mother to get everything out of proportion.
Tomorrow, despite all the angst, all the oaths, even despite my breaking heart, I shall get onto that plane. And when, calm at last, I sit back in my seat, I shall wonder, as I always do, why I insist on thinking the whole world will fall apart just because I'm not with my children.
The only thing that ever falls apart is me.
