Well, today was the meltdown that needed to happen I guess. I found out this morning as hubby was on his way out the door that the bathroom wouldn’t be done until the beginning to middle of next week. Which put me into freak out mode. First, I was just freaked out about it getting done before the baby comes. Then I was freaked out about the idea of having to drag all of us around from place to place for another week. Top it off with the fact that we were on our way to my MIL’s for the day, which isn’t the easiest of places to spend hours on end, and I almost burst into tears.
I managed to do pretty well until we were actually at the MIL’s house for a while. She was out doing some things and wouldn’t be back until the afternoon so it was just Bean, the puppy, and me. Bean was a little out of sorts, but our puppy (who is almost 4 and really isn’t a puppy anymore, but I can’t bring myself to refer to him as a dog) has been kind of a mess lately. He’s had some kind of tummy trouble and went out multiple times last night and again this morning. Then out of nowhere he threw up all over the carpet. Bean almost started crying because he was sick while I tried to clean it up and avoid too many icky chemicals. While I’m not so good at asking for help, I remembered hubby told me to call if I needed anything as he left this morning with me on the verge of tears. So I called and he came.
After Bean went down for her nap, the floodgates opened. I started crying about the frustration of not being able to do all the things I want to so easily. About how tired I am and how exhausting it is to relocate ourselves every day. About how I can barely imagine making it through this week, let alone another next week. Then I started realizing all the other things that it was about that I hadn’t even acknowledged to myself. I was crying because the few weeks I have left alone with Bean are ticking away. And if you asked me how I imagined spending our last weeks as a duo, this certainly wasn’t it. It isn’t that I’m not excited and thrilled about the baby; I am SO very excited and thrilled. But things are going to be different. Forever. And I have a few short weeks to soak in as much of Bean as I can and to make sure she’s as ready as she can be and that she feels my love as much as she can.
I hate that I have to go places everyday and share her with people. I want to be selfish. I want to hold her for myself and spend every moment memorizing what it means to be just her mama. I don’t want to be exhausted and grumpy. I want to be home playing with all the gifts she got for Christmas. I want her to help me bake all the goodies that she loves to put in the freezer for while we’re in the hospital. I want it to be different.
But then my path to motherhood has been anything but conventional. I can’t tell you the number of times along the way while we were trying to get pregnant, or stay pregnant, or enjoy parenthood, or any of that, that I wished to myself or out loud that it was different. The times that I would wish that I could be one of those people who had it so easy and all of it just landed in their lap. But that doesn’t really matter now does it. All of our wishes and dreams are just that. And in the end, I got my wishes and I’m living my dream. Not the way I planned, not the way I expected, but it’s here.
I am grateful and feel how lucky I am every single day of my life. And I’m not just saying that because I worry that somehow all of it will be taken away from me if I don’t. It’s the truth. But I have to be honest with myself and say that there are moments, when I mourn the dream that I had. The dream of what the best could have been. When hubby and I would be on our way to the four little ones that we dreamed up, surrounded by family and friends who help us along the way and always know the right things to say. Pregnancies filled with excitement and over the top baby showers, and not holding my breath every time I feel a twinge. Blissfully ignorant motherhood where I don’t think about how precious life is and how quickly it can be taken away. Where I don’t worry constantly.
Now that I type that all out though, I really wonder what it is that I’m mourning. I don’t actually want any of those things. I want to be aware everyday of the gift that my kids are. Of the gift that my husband and my wonderful life are. I want to be thankful for my body that may have betrayed me in so many ways, but somehow managed to pull this thing off once (hopefully twice). I want the exact life I have now, because every crappy, hard thing that’s happened to me has made me who I am and has gotten me to where I stand. I can’t imagine myself as that blissfully ignorant pregnant person who doesn’t really realize that miscarriage happens or that sometimes getting pregnant is work. I would not be the person or mother that I am today, and to be honest, I like that person.
So maybe today wasn’t about mourning something. Maybe it was just about change. I always have a bit of a hard time with change, even when it is wonderful change. It’s just unknown and scary sometimes. And I do best when I can control something, which right now I feel like I can’t control anything. Maybe today was about how my body is being pushed to its physical limit. About how I need a little more sleep, a few more quiet moments, and even a chance to cry a little more if that’s what I feel like. I don’t really know what today was about. But I needed it. I’ve felt it building for a while and I’m relieved that all that emotion has been let loose. Now if only they’d finish my bathroom J