I have so much to tell you.
Like about how I can’t believe this pregnancy is almost over, and how totally excited I am to be done. A baby boy in my arms. My daughter’s brother. My husband’s son. I want to tell you how uncomfortable I am, 70 pounds heavier than when I started, my thighs chaffing as I walk, something my hair stylist referred to as the “chub rub.” She told me Vaseline helps. I’ve decided that I don’t like being pregnant AT ALL, but it’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that keeps me going. It’s the reality that not everyone who wants to, will be. It’s the pain, with the most beautiful gain.
I want to tell you how at my last appointment, baby boy was breech, after being head down for the ENTIRE pregnancy. About how I am doing the squats, the walks (when I can), the poses, the things to make him move. I went to acupuncture yesterday, so looking forward to the silence of needles laying on my side, only to be told to lay on my back with the practitioner talking my ear off for 20 minutes.
Like about how, even though D liked our new Au Pair instantly those first few days, she’s struggling to adjust now. She cried the entire time I was gone yesterday for that awesome acupuncture appointment, mentioned above. She’s struggling to be left alone with her for even a few hours. I thought we were over separation anxiety, but no, not even close. It took months for her to adjust to her babysitter who came once a week. I was silly to expect anything different.
I want to tell you what a wonderful person our new Au Pair is, and how I know we’ll all make it work, but for now there are driving lessons, and language barriers, and mom guilt. Shouldn’t I do it all? Shouldn’t I be making money too, to help pay for this? Why is it taking me so long to finish my book? Why do I feel like sitting down to do anything other than dote on my child, is a waste of time? I know our Au Pair will prove SO helpful when the new baby comes, when I finally make time to write and study for the real estate exam, a new career I plan to try in addition to writing because I LOVE it, but for now I teeter between relief that help is here and guilt that I need help at all.
I want to tell you all about D. How at 22 months she can sing all the songs. How she loves dance and helicopters and fire trucks. How she can count to 10, point out all the letters. How she is brilliant and beautiful and fragile and stubborn. Sleep has gotten easier, eating has not. My toddler’s attempts to assert control over her environment are exhausting. I’m learning to be more patient every single day.
I want to tell you about our pending move, back to the city, but closer to the coast. About the changes, so many changes, and the challenges, but there just isn’t enough time to tell it how I really want to tell it.
I have approximately 35 days to prepare, to adjust, to write, to reach, to stop gaining so much weight… 35 days as the mother to only one child… 35 days left of pregnancy…there is no room for fear, only joy, but I’m having a hard time finding it lately, despite all I have to be thankful for. Motherhood is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because loving someone so much is stressful. Every decision I make is guided by this love. How will I possibly love another someone this much and have room for anything else?
How are you my blogging family? My blogging friends? My reading ones? I may not be commenting as often as I’d like, but I am here, thinking of you all and hoping you are well.