It’s 11:27pm on April 22, 2019. I’m awake because I took a 2 hour nap after dinner. My feet are elevated and I am sipping tea from bed. Across from my bed is my daughters crib. The pink milestone blocks sitting on her crib bed frame read 36 weeks. Thirty-six. Weeks.
I can’t quite describe the emotion I feel when I look and see the reminder that my life is about to change in 4 weeks. It’s eerie, yet nonthreatening. It’s 11:37 now and I’m holding back tears. I am going to miss the person I used to be. I have 4 more weeks to say goodby to my old normal life. 4 more weeks to do whatever I want and not have to care about the consequences or how it will effect someone else. If I want to nap, I can nap. If I want to get in the car and just drive til I the highway ends, I can. If I want several days of uninterrupted time to myself, I can make that happen. I can be selfish. But in 4 weeks I have to reconsider my moves.
It almost feels like I am peacefully grieving a death I’ve spent the last 9 months preparing for. My daughter will be here in 4 weeks and now my every decision will be met with questions about whether or not I am doing what is best for her.
Universe, teach me selflessness. I am new to this but I promise I will learn fast.
Daughter, be patient with me. I’ve never had to care about something more than myself before. 9 months ago I didn’t think it was possible to love anyone this much. You’re not even here yet and you’ve changed me. And I am okay with that.
My wellness deserves preparation for this transition. I don’t know exactly how I will spend the next few weeks, but every move I make with be with purpose and specific intentions. Things are different now. And again; I am okay with that.