Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Musings on the journey


At some point near the end of my pregnancy, I thrifted this new with tags pottery barn kids pillow cover. I knew I wanted to put the baby's initial on it, but with us still not having chosen a name it had to wait.

I finally finished it yesterday. Because the baby has a name now. I think it wasn't obvious to a lot of folks (including a rude, scolding midwife) that the lack of a name for the baby was a self protection mechanism. Not naming her somehow was shielding me from the fear of the loss of her.

While I was sewing Dave mentioned a co-worker's wife who is struggling right now. She has a newborn, a 3 year old and a travelling husband. And she is crying a lot.

I couldn't help but remember how much I cried when Jack was born. And I couldn't help but notice that at 16 days out this time, I feel no need to cry. In a way I am finding myself in a strange place.

I snuck out yesterday (the ped wants Sammi and I to be quarantined in the house until March!) to look for a special box for Sammi's mementos which are piling up on the counter and as I was wandering Homegoods with her in a sling someone stopped and asked if that was my first baby.

I just smiled and said my first was 6 years old now. She replied "I knew it couldn't be your first, you look way too relaxed."

And for a brief moment I thought about what it took to get here.

Except that like with many things about pregnancy and childbirth, some of those things are starting to seem like a dark and distant memory. They are becoming that hazy shade of gray that starts to get really fuzzy around the edges. They are fading into that place where you start to wonder if that really DID happen or if you just imagined it did.

I didn't anticipate that.

I kind of figured my journey over the last two years would be this big scar that I had to keep working to get beyond.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice that it's fading into the world of baby grunts and groans and up all night nights and the loss of that newborn umbilical cord and big gummy smiles, but it is also a bit surreal.

My mantra through all of this has been "it's all temporary." If my time with Jack has taught me anything it is that. I know that just as soon as I start to think I cannot take one more minute of the current state of things it will change and it will be okay again.

I reminded myself of that every single day that Samantha was still in the belly. Every day was a day closer to the end of that worry, every day was a day closer to a baby.

I guess every day now is a day farther away from the hardest days we have known thus far.

And it really WAS temporary.

That wasn't just some bullshit lie I was telling myself to get through another day.

And I AM more relaxed. But not because she is my "second child", but because she is the second in a string of many. And that string of many taught me there is so little in the world that I have actual control over. Because of that there really is nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the ride.

And what a crazy ride it is.

6 comments:

  1. I found this to be similar to my experience as an infertile. My first son made me a mother but my second son healed me somehow.

    So glad Miss S is here!

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  2. I'm so glad this is where you've ended up (or are ending up, or heading to). And I do think relaxing comes a little easier with #2. That was a very interesting observation you made about picking her name. I was getting a little worried about the Miss Thing thing. I'm just really happy for all of you.

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  3. Beautiful and heart felt post. I always appreciate your honesty.

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  4. Sarah, I have followed your journey through your blog for the long ride. I just cannot begin to say how happy I am for you.
    Please pinch Miss Thing's cheeks for me.

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  5. Very well said. I feel the exact same way about our adoption hell/wait. I haven't completely forgotten it, but it does fade. Healing happens.

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  6. Lovely, Sarah. I am so glad you are feeling peace and enjoying your girl. I do love how you are spelling Sammi. Very sweet.

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