I haven't written for a while.
It's not because I don't have anything to write. I usually fall asleep thinking of all the things I could write about. Maybe I just have too many things to write about, and I get overwhelmed thinking how to condense it all into a blog post. And why sit down to write for 45 minutes when I could zone out to an episode of "Buffy", or (better yet) take a nap??
But here I am, writing a long-overdue post.
Only 2 months to go in this pregnancy. It's like a freight train that is coming, non-stop, and I am so unprepared.
As I reminisce over my last pregnancy with Avonlea, I realize how similarly I went into motherhood as my journey into becoming a wife. It was all romance and rose-colored glasses. I knew parts of it would be "hard", but I had NO idea what that meant until I was deep into it. And yes, it WAS hard. In fact, "hard" isn't an adequate enough word. I felt overwhelmed and anxious and in-over-my-head, and seriously wanted to give up and drop the baby off at an orphanage and take back my precious "me time".
It all stemmed from being completely, wholly, over-the-top 1000% afraid. Not only did I feel like I had no idea what I was doing (and, let's be honest--I really didn't have any idea what I was doing), but because I felt like ANYONE would do better than I could possibly do at raising this tiny human.
As I am faced with this new baby, I realize I have more experience and am better equipped this time around. Practically, I am much more prepared. I know better how to feed and dress the baby. I have been through the drama and struggle of delivery. The drama and struggle of breastfeeding. The drama and struggle of a baby who wants to eat every hour. The drama and....well, you get the idea.
But I guess the problem is that there are so many MORE things to be scared about this time around. So I sit here, 2 months out, and I am just completely, wholly, over-the-top 1000% afraid...again.
So many unknowns. So many questions. So many worries. So many fears. And this time, I left the rose-colored glasses off. There's no more romanticism going into life with a newborn this time around. I'm prepared for the worst. The crying, the lack of sleep, the searing pain from being sliced open and taped back together. I'm prepared for that. What I am not prepared for is all of those things added to the fact that I have a TODDLER. A very needy toddler. A toddler that, I might add, HATES when I hold other babies (like, claws my pants legs and whines and cries and throws a fit hates).
I don't know how to do this. I don't do well in situations where I don't have even a slight grasp on how to handle it. I tend towards avoidance or complete shutdown. But this? I can't avoid. I can't shut down. I have to put on my big girl pants and take it head-on.
I hear from a lot of moms that have already done it. I know it can be done. It might not be pretty, or graceful, or worthy of my own parenting handbook, but it can be done. It has to be.
That said, in a couple of months, if you see me walking around with my yoga pants on and mismatched socks, hopefully you'll extend me some grace.
