Yesterday was a tough day. Bryony seemed to be getting into everything, and she is starting to learn the art of "backtalk"; we had a rather unsatisfying Skype session with Adam (Bryony managed to fall out of the office chair and hurt herself, then a few minutes later Adam fell asleep during the call); and Adam's absence--the lack of his partnership and intimacy as well as his co-parenting support--hit me and I felt overwhelmed. I had to put Bryony into a too-long timeout just so that I could retreat somewhere in the house to clear my mind and avoid doing something really inappropriate to her in the heat of anger. And then, I read a friend's Facebook status update, and it just brought me over the top.
My fifth "pregnancy cohort" friend is now expecting her second baby. I knew that these announcements would be coming because Adam and I had had every intention of trying for baby #2 around this time, too. But then, of course, we found out about his deployment and the last thing we wanted was for me to go through yet another pregnancy on my own, but this time with the added responsibility of a toddler. So, we were careful and decided we would wait until he returned before we explore the possibility of expanding our family. It smarts a little, though, to see everyone else's lives progressing seemingly without a hitch, without any roadblocks...and our lives have been put on a one-year hiatus. One year without my husband, one year without Bryony's daddy, one year without the chance to advance in our family life. For the first time since he's been out of country, I allowed myself to just curl up in as tight a human ball as I could manage and just cry. It was only for a minute or so, but it felt good to release emotion that had been accumulating and staying pent-up for some time. I was having a "moment" and I just needed to get through it.
Then, I started to feel guilty. I know people who are physically unable to have kids of their own and it is devastating to them. Adam and I have a child already, and we have no reason to believe we will have problems conceiving a second time...so what if we have to wait a little while before we have another? So Bryony will be three years older than her sibling instead of just two; obviously, there are worse things in life.
I took Bryony out of her structured timeout (a la JoJo, the SuperNanny) and had her look me in the eye. Tearfully, but firm, I said, "Little girl, it's just me here right now. Mama's all by herself; I don't have your daddy here to help me out. You and I have a really long road ahead of us and I need you to work with me here so we can get through this together, because honestly I don't know how I'm going to keep from losing it otherwise..." Although I know she didn't fully understand my words, she seemed to respond to the tone of my voice, and she sat there in front of me, serious, taking it all in. I appreciated that.
And then she was up, chasing the cat, flipping through books, standing on the space heater (naughty!) to turn on her CD player, laughing, singing, dancing, and doing every other little thing she does that makes my days spin. And it was good. Really good. And I was once again happy for my friends who are lucky enough to be able to await the newest additions to their families, and optimistic for Adam's two weeks home in July and eventual return in December. And then our lives will move on, too, perhaps in the way we're planning, but perhaps not. Regardless, we are lucky and we are happy and I know it. Happy Days are here again.
Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy....
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