Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Time to myself

A couple days before Lydie died, I took the afternoon off.  I left Ben in daycare, and I spent the afternoon doing things I wanted to do - which was mainly things to get ready for Lydie.

I planned to take a vacation day the day before my scheduled c-section too.  Justin asked what I would do, and I said, "whatever I want!" He teased me that that means vacuuming and cleaning, and I said at least we'd have a clean house when we brought Lydie home.

I was pulling Ben out of daycare for 7 months (7 months!) and I'd be home with my toddler and my newborn... I knew the time to myself was limited.

Now the time to myself seems endless.  I'm not working - I can't imagine being able to work right now.  Justin has to work. I'm taking Ben to school, to keep him in the routine and because it can't be good for a one-year-old to stay at home all day watching his mother cry.   And because I'll be back at work way too soon, I really couldn't pull him out anyway so we're paying for it regardless. 

This morning, I watched all the other parents when I took Ben to school.  They're all in their work clothes, in a hurry to get out there and into the office.  I'm in my sweats - I can't stand the idea of real clothes and I'm certainly not about to put maternity clothes on.  I'm in my sweats, on dressy days, yoga pants, dropping my son off so I can go home and think about the life I should be living right now.  How I should be dropping Ben off, rushing to work, feeling Lydie kick all day there, and counting down the days (9) before she arrives.  Finishing up all our last-minute things before baby #2 is here.

Instead, I come home and I make tea and I stare out the window or stare at this blog or think about how I should get enough energy to write back to a friend or plan the memorial.  And I think about how things should be.

How they should be.  Could be.  Would be.
Aren't.




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