Tag-Archive for » conflicting feelings «

A change in perspective

I used to spend so much time here, putting my thoughts to “paper” and publishing for anyone to see. My kids are only 6 and 3, and there are so many stories to capture about them.

Maybe things like Facebook have ruined that for me, where I can dash off a thought whenever, instead of composing something more … interesting … than I do now?

But I don’t even know where to (re)start. My oldest is in kindergarten and I don’t know for sure what’s okay and what’s not anymore. Will he enjoy my stories about him? Be mad that I put them online, opening both of us to criticism? (I got a lot of flack from attachment parents for that one.)

I used to feel compelled to write. Like something wasn’t quite right in my life unless I was putting pen to paper. Now, after I’ve hit 40, I’m just not sure I need to chronicle everything. Who will care in the end? My grandkids? My great-grandkids? (I would have *loved* to discover an old journal from a relative – but who knows if there will be anyone in the family like that down the road?)

It has to be for me, or not at all. So I’ll write when I feel like it, try to put down some fun thoughts that I think my boys will enjoy later, and try not to pressure myself too much. I have enough of that in other areas of my life.

Time Passes

clock faceLast Tuesday, I said goodbye to 35 and hello to 36. I’m not sure how I feel about inching closer to 40. In my 30s I have really felt like I’ve come into my own. Getting more respect professionally. Feeling more settled in myself, who I am, what I like and don’t like.

And then I became a mom smack-dab in the middle of my 30s. And things changed. My world has spun around a bit. I quit working outside of the home and suddenly I’m not sure where my identity lies anymore. It’s not that I identified so heavily with my career, although the ability to bring in a hefty (to me) paycheck was a BIG DEAL to me.

Now I work from home and earn less than half of what I used to. And we’re on a budget. And I’m struggling to manage my time and get everything – or even part of everything – done.

Strangely, I’m less sure of myself at 36 than I was at 34. I’ve had a lot of ups and downs this past year and I can’t say that I’m sad to see 35 go. Where will 36 take me? I’m not sure.

But I certainly hope it includes some more freelance clients and a better paycheck. For my sanity’s sake. Yeah, that’s it. My sanity.

image credit: morgueFile

I don’t think my family is complete

J and I have had many discussions recently about our family. I want another baby. He’s on the fence about it. That decision was almost made for us recently, as I’m pretty sure I was briefly pregnant. Just long enough to start feeling it, knowing something’s different. Just enough to adjust mentally to the possibility, and start getting used to it. Just long enough to start thinking about how our lives could change, and what we’d need to do.

And then? Nothing. A very late, odd period. Not the usual (I will spare you the details of how it wasn’t the same). So while it’s not 100% certain, and there’s no way now to really confirm it, my body was telling me something.

And I believed it. And I wanted it so badly. I did. Still do. I was left with the feeling that our family is not yet complete. We still have someone else to meet.

But nothing’s ever simple. I had a lot of problems last time. It was not easy. Not for me, and not for J. He had to worry about losing me. I don’t really think that was an issue, but that does not mean that fear was not real. And if I get pregnant again, that fear comes back.

I had excellent care. My doctors were fabulous, keeping good tabs on both me and the baby. When my blood pressure went up just a little bit, they made me go in for monitoring. When the baby was stuck in the birth canal and not making any progress, they went in to get him before he or I went into distress. The surgery was a little rough, but I was fine. Tired, but fine.

Every pregnancy is different. There are no guarantees. The next one could be easier. Textbook, even. My chances of diabetes again, though, are pretty good. So we don’t know. No one ever does, do they?

The question is – are we willing to take that risk?

When words fail

I have so much going on in my head right now. It’s hard to make sense of it all myself, much less put it in order for anyone else.

I’m fine, hubby’s fine, baby’s fine. Just busy, and trying to find my way through all of the crap in my head.

We’re waiting to see how much my insurance will be on COBRA. Should find out sometime soon. I am dreading that letter, as I expect it to take everything I’m making right now – and possibly more.

Still trying to find a way to get it all done. It never gets done, but I’d like to get a better handle on things. more…