Balance

Yesterday, I woke up still exhausted after a night of disturbing dreams, cramping legs, and an inability to get comfortable. I had great expectations for accomplishing things, but felt too tired and crabby to begin any tasks. As I was sitting there in a funk, C reminded asked me how many Saturdays we had left before a newborn would be relying on us for every. single. need. The answer (assuming baby comes exactly as planned...): Eleven.

Two of those Saturdays will be consumed with baby showers, one with a wedding, and another one I will be out of town at a conference. So, in reality, the number of Saturdays that I have to wake up when I want to, sip my coffee in silence, and enjoy mindlessly watching HGTV until I am fully awake and alert: Seven. And then my life will be forever changed and my Saturday mornings will probably never look the same again.

With his unspoken encouragement, I allowed myself to be a little crabby. I turned on the TV to a home-remodeling show and enjoyed sipping my coffee. I enjoyed the silence and I enjoyed the selfishness in my Saturday morning routine with a greater appreciation.

We wanted this for a long time. We spent many years and thousands of dollars working towards this goal. There were many days that my life was consumed by the task of having a baby. But this was a different type of consumed then actually having a baby. Entering the third trimester, I find myself becoming more anxious and apprehensive. Not that I will be a bad mother or that our little girl will be healthy and happy, although those worries definitely creep in also. I find myself anxious about losing my sense of me. Losing my own goals and aspirations, losing my hobbies and my friends, losing my ability to be introspective because I am too wrapped up in caring for someone.

When I first went away to college, I remember having similar fears. I knew I could do well academically, but I was not confident that I could be both a good student and have fun. I was worried that I would have too much fun that then suffer academically. Or that I would be too focused on my grades and then be miserable. It turns out that these fears were mostly unfounded. I ended up doing a good job of managing a social existence and still thriving academically, with only the occasional exception. I had achieved a sense of balance that I didn't know was possible.

I hope I am able to find this same sense of balance with motherhood.