Empty Nests

Daphne strolled seemingly without purpose through the large park. Its trees were almost devoid of leaves. A brown, orange, red and yellow carpet of leaves covered the ground beneath the canopy of bare branches. It was odd not to be pushing a pram for once.

Her three year old daughter had started nursery that week. Although it was only three hours a day, it was proving a challenge for Daphne; if not her precious Stella. When her husband had first insisted that they take advantage of the free part day nursery offered by the local council, she had come up with dozens of reasons not to. After all Stella had never been left with anyone other than family. Having followed basic attachment parenting techniques, she was certain that her child would suffer terrible separation anxiety being away from her primary care giver for such a long period of time.

Of course when she finally gave into his demands, spending the morning looking at all of the nurseries in the area; her beloved daughter had deserted her. The last one they had looked at and ultimately the one in which Stella was enrolled was particularly devastating to her mummy ego. The moment that Stella's beautiful brown eyes had lit on the children playing together in the gym she had began to cry to play with them. Daphne had tried to politely explain perhaps another time that they had just come to pick up an application. The head teacher though had taken notice of Stella's cries insisting that it was perfectly fine if she played with the other children while the adults talked about it. After two years of breastfeeding, including sore and cracked nipples, co-sleeping and positive discipline; the little urchin simply placed her small hand into the larger one of the older woman and walked out of her mother's careful care...and into the big world.

Daphne logically recognised that all of this was actually a good sign. The whole purpose of attachment parenting was to provide a positive and secure beginning so that the child would learn to trust others and to gain greater independence at his or her own pace. Except that having invested all of herself into this helpless little creature for over three years now, emotionally it felt like abandonment to Daphne. She could not share those feelings with her husband either since it would merely confirm his assumption that it was she who needed Stella at home rather than the child who had feared the separation.

Sitting for a bit upon the abandoned bench, Daphne looked out across the almost empty park. The air was brisk for a mid-October London day so few people braved the weather. She wondered if perhaps there was not another cold front moving into the area. What would she do then alone for hours in their quiet, empty flat?

She thought about going back to work part-time. After all until Stella was born, she had had a successful banking career of her own. Of course that did not make much sense given that there were few part-time or flexible positions in the banking industry, which was down at the moment anyway. She had though too about having another child. Actually they had done more than think; for the past year they had been trying for another child. But at forty-three, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she had not traded the large family she had always wanted as a young girl for the stability bought by her almost two decade long career that had delayed her first pregnancy until her forties. Of course she was certain that she could find some charity that would be grateful for a few hours of service each week, but the only thing that ignited her passion was the tiny brown curls and soft brown eyes of a winsome little girl, whose teachers praised as an independent delight.

Looking at the time on her mobile, Daphne decided that was enough musing for this day. It was time to pick the little urchin up from nursery. Walking back along the path she had traversed earlier something caught her eye. There in the brush near the path was an old abandoned bird's nest. Smiling as she picked it up, Daphne thought how she would have scolded Stella for picking it up. 'Dirty,' she said aloud as if speaking to her absent child.

Holding it carefully in her hands, she noted the hard bluish shells stuck within its twig branches. So another mother too had felt the pain of this separation. Another child had grown and felt the safety of its nest. With a tear clouding her eyes she tucked her discovery beneath her arm; content that for now at least her nest was empty only briefly. But mindful also that as with this mother, the day would come when the nest she had so carefully prepared for her young would be abandoned forever. Of course such was the circle of life: empty nests.