I'm sitting here on my couch eating a small bowl of cereal. What's wrong with this picture?
It's 2:35 in the morning and I should be asleep. I woke up at 2 am for my early morning pee break and haven't been able to go back to sleep. Maybe it's the random thoughts going through my head that I can't seem to ignore. And I was hungry- like growling stomach hungry. That's what I get for eating weird all day yesterday. And when my work colleagues threw me a late afternoon shower, I wasn't up for dinner until around 8pm, at which point all I could manage was toast with peanut butter and pear butter (jelly).
Oh, and Bean woke up when I did and decided it was playtime. So I'm here instead of in bed. Go figure.
I have a list of things we need to buy before this baby comes. That will probably happen this weekend, which if course is conveniently a Long Weekend. Which means my last week at work next week will be a short one. Hopefully one involving a lot of wrap up and office cleaning. I'd like my poor replacement not to inherit the choas that is the tornado dump I've been working in lately. Well, all this year, really.
Friday is my 26th b-day. It also happens to be my Mom's b-day as well. Did you know that? I was born on my Mom's b-day. :)
It's also the day I was rushed to the hospital from massive bleeding and complications from my induced miscarriage of Kenneth last year. Days on one hand, I'd like to forget, but ones I otherwise cling to as reminders of the second life we created that couldn't stay with us.
I was talking with a friend at work a few hours before the shower. She knows all about our losses. I made a comment that still hovers around me like a shroud.
"We're parents to three children, not just one. Most people don't get that. But it's how we both feel."
Maybe it's what we cling to. Afterall, to just forget about Alex and Kenneth in the wake of our dear Bean's approaching appearance is to erase a year of joy, heartache and personal growth and learnings.
Today, I am not the woman I was before our losses. I am glad for that. It seems that fate gave me a second warning about choosing priorities in life and knowing when to declare your boundaries. It was a hard lesson the first time when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. It broke my heart the second time last year.
But the heart is mending, ever still, as it beats strong inside me beside along with my own.