Missing

Sometimes, when writing these posts, I feel obligated to balance my complaining with gratitude. And while I think gratitude is an essential part of a healthy life, I want to give myself the freedom to write about being hurt or sad without drudging up some gratitude to go along with it. Just know that you get to see some of the worst of my days here, where I need to share, while the gratitude often comes in quite moments away from the computer.

Today I have been very sad about missing the next few months of Ian’s life. I mean, sure, I’m here, and he wanders in and out of my room all day. But I don’t get to be Ian’s mommy the way I want to be his mommy. When I see him running down the hall or hear him trying out new words, I’m both delighted and sad. I’m so excited to see him grow, but I’m depressed that I only get a bedside view.

I know that I’ll love the next phase of Ian’s life just as much as this one, but part of me is very jealous for this phase, the right now. To quote my melodramatic mind, “he’ll never be this age again.”

I’m also mourning the loss of the last few months of Ian as an only child. I was looking forward to keeping him lots of extra special time this fall before his little brother arrives, and now he’ll have to share me almost as soon as I get out of bed. (Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll do a Mommy/Ian Predators game this spring.)

Anyway, that’s where I am today. Thanks for listening.