Temporary? Insanity

Lately I feel driven to write when things are on the verge of being rather rough. When my feelings reach a level of intensity that I don’t know how to deal with. That’s when I spill over onto the laptop keyboard and write till the tight feeling in my chest subsides.


It makes for a very incomplete picture as it leaves out many of the good bits. The quiet pleasure of good books and hours spent over my long neglected needlework. The sweetness of laying still for hours and feeling Claira move about like mad, feeling how the power of her movements has increased. Finding joy in her growth and continued safety. And, to be perfectly blunt, all loneliness and missing of my family aside, who can complain about every aspect of a life that involves having to do no laundry or dishes or indeed, any work at all? (Alright, so I miss the satisfaction of a hard day’s work but I do NOT miss doing dishes)


I am grateful…


For a timely increase in faith. For being blessed with a peaceful heart (now if only my mind would get in line with my heart…). For knowing, not just hoping, but knowing, that everything is going to be okay. Even if I don’t know how or when that will be. For experiences that seem to be directly related to what I most need to learn. Like that it’s okay not to know and understand everything. That uncertainty doesn’t have to completely unhinge me.


For how smoothly things have gone when they so easily might not have. That the bleeding was minor and stayed that way. That the hospital I was sent to was so close to my parents. That my parents are the most generous and supportive parents a child could hope for.


For a husband who finds the energy to be loving and communicative even though he’s doing the job of both of us right now and is so exhausted that my heart just aches for him. For technology like telephones and web cams that allow our family to feel better connected, even if it’s no true replacement for actually being together. For children who are independent and resilient and who are handling this so amazingly well despite how much they miss their Mommy and how strange their lives have suddenly become.


For emails and blog comments that make me feel less lonely and adrift – as that’s a hard feeling to fight alone. For friendships. For family. For love. For every person and everything that makes this all bearable. For reminders of just how little this is to bear compared to what some families have to endure.


Today I am grateful to have realized what a very dull place the inside of my own head had become. I’ve been living there the last few weeks (and much of my life as well) and I’m tired of it…tired BY it, really. And I stepped outside of myself and realized just how musty the metaphorical air in there had become.


It’s so fresh out here. Everything so crisp, so vivid, so fascinating. Yesterday I fought off tears much of the day. The self-pity I’ve been fighting had become all but palpable. Now I want to laugh. Now I want to dance (alas, bed rest restrictions forbid me). I want to learn something outside of myself. I want to ask questions – take peeks inside other peoples’ heads. Care a little less about the me-ness of my life and experience something other. Basically, I want to stop being so bloody selfish all the time.


I feel like a bird who has been caged for eons and has suddenly fought its way free. I can’t wait till the long wait is over. Till Claira is safely here and we can go home. I’m already thinking of all the things I will do…all the ways in which I will fly. Now that’s a silver lining indeed.