Friday, July 25, 2008

Another Personality

So I have another personality. In my last pregnancy, she came late. I expected to be all emotional and creepy right away, but I wasn't. One day, I was listening to a song called "Feel The Rain on Your Skin" on the radio, and I heard these lyrics "I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefinedI'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplannedStaring at the blank page before you", and I thought - that's what this baby is... a blank page, of a new book. Queue water works. I call her "Cry baby fatty pants". She both cries and wears fat pants. Size 16 to be exact. Neither are very pretty.

I've definitely been more emotional lately. Lots going on in life and with baby on the way, I just feel more vulnerable and susceptible to the blues. I don't feel sorry for myself, I just feel, nostalgic and hopeful for the future, whatever it may be. Tears flow easily for me, and these days I am feeling more touched by the magic of the world. Songs and music mean more, words and actions mean more, and kindness means so much more. Last night I went to bed with my little girl and all she did for 1/2 an hour was tell me she loved me, said good night to the baby and said good night to me, over and over and over. She snuggled close to me and smushed her sweet little face into the side of my body. We held hands, and I felt so very very in love with her. The baby moved too, slowly snuggling in for the night in my womb. Magic.

Then this morning, I woke up in a fit as I had forgotten to set my alarm clock. Ava cried because she didn't want to wear her sweater, didn't want to get out of bed, wanted me to hold her while I had to get things ready for her, cried when I took her out to the van, cried when her rubber boots fell off, cried when the sun got in her eyes, I left the kitchen in a hurricane of a mess, was late and had to drop off my sister first, spilled coffee in the van, hit traffic on the way into the office and well... poof, just like that, everything was back to normal.

Then, because I had heard it on the drive, I looked up the lyrics to a song. And then, the tears flowed down my cheeks again.

"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll out of bed and down on your knees and for a moment you can hardly breathe"

Our lives are complicated messes, with an incredible number of combinations and permutations of what can happen to us, what we are going through - things we can identify with, things we cannot. But for a brief, brief second ... to be lost in the internet shuffle of the internet, I will let you in on a little secret. I dream with a broken heart. And waking up... is the hardest part.

No matter what I am feeling though, and no matter what I'm going through - I pull it all together because in my life, exists not just one person. I cannot focus on just me. And so, I pull it all together, suck it all up inside of me... and take care of what must be taken care of. Dear God, I love her. I love her more than anything in this beautiful world.

But I do dream with a broken heart. I do. And every single morning... waking up is the hardest part. That's the only time, I let myself, be me. And then I become the greatest role in life "Mommy".

1 comment:

Phiala said...

Good for people to know.