I know that I haven’t been around here much lately. I’m working on being honest about the reasons why. I’ve drafted and redrafted posts in my head. I’ve debated about how much to share. I’ve avoided the computer all together. I’m virtually non-existent, in the virtual sense.
My inner monologue goes something like this:
I should really blog about that. I don’t care. I should return some email. I don’t care. I should do the dishes. I don’t care. This is supposed to be such an exciting time in our lives. I am so tired. I need to be reaching out to the people who need it more than me. I have nothing left to give. I will do better tomorrow. I will be present tomorrow. I will suck it up, tomorrow.
And then I think about telling you that. About blogging honestly. And I am so ashamed that I have nothing left inside, when so many of my sweet brave friends are facing challenges that are far worse than this. What our family is going through is nothing compared to the battles and the losses and the struggles that all of you handle with such grace and courage.
So I kick the laptop under the bed. Another day goes by. 6 days turns into 16 days.
I don’t want to resent this space. I don’t want to feel obligated to write shiny happy glowy pregnancy posts. I have them. They’re in draft mode. I am not going to do those obnoxious questionairres that pregnant bloggers do every week. “What are you craving? Maternity clothes yet?” I just want to yell SHUT UP when I read those. But I do want to share here. The good, the bad, the kinda funny. My friend Kerry commented a while ago that she missed the kind of posts that I wrote when I was pregnant with Max. It made me realize that I do too. So maybe I’ll start there. Some honest accounts of how fucking hilarious and fucked up pregnancy is. I’ll do it soon. I will. This little baby is pretty awesome, and with every day that goes by, I realize more and more how blessed our family is to have this new beginning.
In the meantime…..I have a son with a badly sprained ankle and a husband with a fractured wrist. We are hobbling along. Well, Max is crawling and jumping off of furniture with his knees. We are tired and a little broken. Yelling at each other and mad at the world. Not sure when we’ll move out of our tiny town. Not sure where the best place for us is, and feeling an impending deadline crushing down on us. Kinda like when we were pregnant with Max. So that’s a little traumatizing.
I’m working on telling the truth about life. I need to be able to answer “Are you guys ok?” with “No.” No, we’re not fine. It doesn’t feel fine. It feels scary and unsteady and exhausting and frustrating and lonely. We are hobbling along. Literally. So that’s fun.
I’m trying to say yes. I’ve learned that it’s not fair to say “we’re not fine”, and then shut everyone out. An impromptu “Cookie and Hot Chocolate” invitation yesterday was exactly what Max and I needed, and I’m so glad I said yes. A conversation with my roomie, a surprise bouquet of tulips, a quiet moment alone when Uncle Scottie came to play with Max. I’m welcoming it all right now.
We are not perfect. Life is never perfect. I won’t lie to you here. Aren’t you tired of reading bullshit fake blogs anyway? This is real life. Real life means that sometimes you go down the bouncy slide and your ankle gets twisted, no matter how cautious your mom is about everything.
But even though we’re not always fine, we will BE fine. We will be. We are, actually. We have each other, we have you, and we have so many promises of better days to come.
And I started drinking coffee again today. So there’s that.---here---