A Catalyst for Change

In reality, what I now view as a 20 year slumber actually started as a wake up call. Just a few days after the tragic events of September 11th, 2001, moved by the collective energy of a nation, I walked into my local recruiter's office, compelled to serve my country.

At the time, I was a 25 year old wife and mother, and a part-time restaurant server. I had two young boys: Isaiah was 2 years old and Jacob was 8 months old by the time I left for basic training in December. I loved being a mom! It was all I ever wanted to be; however, my family was living in a 1964 Dodge motorhome parked in my brother's driveway and my "then" husband refused to get a job because he had dreams of having his own business and did not want to work for anyone else. His repeated attempts failed and it became very clear that neither of us were going to live out our dreams of the moment. What I did not know was that I was broken. I had no idea who I was anymore. I was just a mom. I lived for my babies. My finest achievement was that my first born never had a bottle (or a pacifier) in his mouth. I nursed him exclusively his first year and then he went straight to drinking from a cup. It was my contribution to the cause for normalizing nursing. I shamelessly nursed anywhere and everywhere not only to sooth my crying baby and fill his belly, but to raise awareness about the most basic form of nourishing life. My actions received mixed reviews, but taking a stand for the rights of women to nurse in comfort aligned with my values of motherhood AND equality. I was a creator and sustainer of life! That was my reality. I struggled to nurse my second child, Jacob, because I had to go to work, and ultimately found myself unable to sustain nursing him past four months old. Honestly, I felt like a failure. I had lost the title in Round Two. I was unable to provide for Jacob because my husband was unable to provide for us. Yes, there was some blaming, whether relevant or not, but I felt deprived from success as a mother because he simply refused to get a job.

When I left for basic training, I was not prepared for the extensive separation from my children and I now know that in addition to the imposed stress that is meant to change your mindset and prepare you for military service, I was hurdled into post-partum depression due to the sudden separation from my baby. I used to say that I had the shiniest combat boots because they were polished from my own tears. On the other side of the coin, however, basic training helped me find a new purpose beyond motherhood. My entire perspective was changed in a matter of 6 weeks. I graduated with a new sense of purpose. I felt stronger than ever. I was motivated to serve my country and to make the world a safer place for everyone. I was unaware of the dangers and the disparagement that I had yet to face. Everything I thought I knew was a lie, or at least a clever deception. I thought I was going to be a trailblazer in the military, and I was for a while, but there were political nuances one had to master for success, for which I was very ill prepared. I was not prepared to play a game where the rules kept changing to accommodate an antiquated good ole boy system that was supposedly inexistent, but that I believe still flourishes today.