To be isolated among strangers made sense to her. How could they possibly understand her hopes, dreams, or obsessions. How and why should they care. However, she found herself more isolated amongst family. The very people who she had envisioned caring for her the most, didn’t have a clue of her inner thoughts. Instead they went about the day touching only her surface. Demanding things of her body that she repetitively begged them to stop doing. Even at night she found no rest...her husband out of reach, yet she felt crowded and smothered constantly by the hands that reached out for her. She tried embracing them, slapping them away, and then finally accepted the inevitable and giving in, turning her back to lessen the feeling. She just wished they understood that she craved space. Outward space but inward understanding. Motherhood was not what she had expected it would be. She thought the very act of holding her children would be more fulfilling. However, in the crowded isolation she found herself on a journey to her actual being. It was a journey to her soul.