The physics of it all

One class on my high school transcript kept me out of my graduating class's Top Ten.

Physics.

From the first day of class, I was bewildered. Try as I might, there was so much I couldn't wrap my mind around. Perhaps because I am more of a whole-to-part or Big Picture thinker, and much of the study of physics is found in the details. Or perhaps because my academic love language is found in reading, writing, and analyzing the written word while formulas and laws have a numbing effect on my thought processes . . . For whatever reason, I just couldn't quite grasp it. I muddled and struggled and was thankful to escape with a bright shiny B, but alas, I always felt like I didn't really learn all I could have learned.

Interestingly though, my big-picture-seeking mind exploded in epiphany one day in class as it dawned on me that in life, really, it all comes down to physics. Even though I just don't get the study of physics, the reality of physics fascinates me. After that class, I found myself subconsciously reflecting on the physics of any given situation. To this day, I unintentionally irritate The Coach when he is trying to explain some new play the defense is going to install and why it will or won't work and I have to interject "well, the physics of the situation demands it."

As I count down days until Little Sister arrives, I have been brushing up on some physics again. The physics of breastfeeding a newborn, of babywearing after a c-section, of one lap and two daughters . . . which is what troubles me the most.

The law of conservation of mass/matter decrees "that the mass of a closed system of substances will remain constant, regardless of the processes acting inside the system."

regardless of the processes acting inside the system.

"An equivalent statement is that matter cannot be created nor destroyed, although it may change form."

although it may change form.

If God in His mercy allows for all to go as planned, then next Wednesday I'll wake up as the mother to one and drift off to sleep later as the mother of two. Such a monumental change of process within my systems will surely require more of me. More room in my lap. More hip on which to carry little ones. More arms for snuggling. More patience, more focus, more compassion, more, more, more . . .

One mom, two children. Time? Divided. Love? Multiplied. But at the end of the day (and through the sleep-interrupted night to the beginning of the next day), it's still just me. Only I am called Mommy to both. No more of me created. And yet, no more of me destroyed.

I have found some solace in another law . . . the law of conservation of energy which states, "that the total amount of energy in an isolated system remains constant, although it may change forms . . ." And there it is again . . . although it may change forms . . .

Without a doubt, the biggest form change I have undergone began on the 28th of January back in 2005. The change in form was not instantaneous, rather it has been an evolution. At times it required a resistant and resentful tug-of-war in which my Pre-Mommy self strained at the rope against Motherhood, unwilling to yield up one more inch of ground. But there were other days, better days, later days when the form change flowed with acceptance, a languid float on a river embracing change as I traveled over rocks worn smooth by time.

And so I find a strange sense of assurance in these laws. Indeed, there will be no more of me to handle the more that is to be required of me. But there will be energy. Energy untapped, energy that has been there all along, waiting to be called upon. It's hard to fathom it at this point, but I have to believe that when it's required of me - all this more - that I will find within me far more than I knew existed.

I believe this because, well, it's the physics of it all . . .