Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Nothing At All Like That Last Time

When my husband left me, I was alone all day, everyday. No more husband, no more dogs. Just me in a big lonely house with my cats, the TV and the internet. I had work to do, but it was only part time and not especially demanding or engaging. My closest family and friends lived hours and miles away.

We were waiting for the house to sell, and there was nothing left to do but wait. There was nothing to pack because the house had already been de-cluttered. We needed the rest of our stuff stage the place. And so while knew I was going to go, to move to San Francisco, I didn't know when. Until we had a buyer and a sell date, everything was on hold.

This was almost exactly eight years ago.

It was so weird. Sitting in that house, going for walks or drives, doing stupid routine things while waiting for my entire life to change forever. I remember that time so vividly because it was so abnormal. I had so much time to myself, so much serenity. All I could do was wallow in the quiet and sad, waiting for it to be different.

Any second now. Really soon. But not today.

My life now looks nothing like it used to. I'm happy and the changes that are coming are changes we -- a different "we," a good "we," a healthy, wonderful "we" -- planned. We chose this move, this house, to have a baby. We chose growing, more, positive.

Before, it had been about sickness and death and divorce and ending and failure and closure.

But as different as it was years ago...well, here I am. I am home alone all day, every day. And I am waiting for my life to be forever changed. There's nothing left for me to do except wait and wonder and worry. It's too quiet and I have too much time.

I am not complaining. At least, I don't mean to sound like I am. I am grateful that I am not having to work right now. I am exceptionally aware of my good fortune and am grateful that I have a home and a partner and the physical, emotional and financial means to take care of a child I want and thought I might not be able to have.

Oh, but this waiting. The silence. It's not good.

I have plenty of things I could be doing, but I seem to be in this strange sort of stupor. I figure it's at least somewhat hormonal. Still, I feel the gravity of it all. I can't help it. I'm aware of this huge thing coming, and I feel heavy with the weight of it. With the wait of it.

Physically I'm fine. Whatever. I'm uncomfortable but it's not killing me, so I feel no need to whine and complain about how physically hard this is.

But as I said earlier, I feel kind of done emotionally. It's hard to wait for my entire life to change in ways I can't anticipate. Yes, it's fear of the unknown. It's also worry that something will go wrong, and wanting to feel relief and joy that nothing did.

I'm tired of this weird, emotional echo-chamber and want to get on with things. By which I guess I mean everything.

What's another couple weeks?

Any second now. Really soon. But not today.

9 comments:

  1. Do what you can to enjoy this stillness, the quiet, while you can. (Even though from what I've watched it's as impossible as touching your toes.) Soon enough you're going to have the most joyous, hectic, stressful, no sleep, no peace, loud times you can imagine - for at least 18 years.

    Motherhood is always a great thing, so the mothers around me say. But apparently, they looked back to those last few weeks and wished they could have relaxed more, could have taken an "off pill" and just been able to zone out. (That pesky brain.)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Prayers and love from one of your longtime readers :)
    I'm excited to meet Spot.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Embrace these feelings, explore them to the limit - make the "echo-chamber" yours. You can't make it go away, so get intimate with it.

    And go look at the photos of Marlo Armstrong and know your turn is next!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Waiting for a baby, has to be the hardest wait in your life.

    Enjoy this time, though. It may be a while before you have time for just you, or you and Ish.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hey! I'm pregnant, by myself and in Napa Valley too! I call lunch!

    Grin.

    P.S. A group of ladyfriends with new and newish babies meet in Yountville on the first Wednesday of the month. You will join us, right?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh wow, it's like I'm reading my own mind from about exactly 8 years ago, just before my son was born... and then suddenly, about 4 evenings before he showed up, this weird and amazing peace and calm washed over me, where I just knew everything would be fine. Betcha five bucks it happens to you too.

    ReplyDelete
  7. sit outside and read a few books and enjoy the quiet - your solitude will soon be gone forever.

    ReplyDelete
  8. It is difficult to wait and wait. I remember that wait that was close but not quite yet. Your feelings are yours and take care of yourself. I can hardly wait for your little one to come into the world. Two new babies will make the internet world much more fun.

    After the 18 years of servitude mentioned above they go away and come home on weekends until they are out of college. Then they move away and you get some fun time with Ish again. When they are your age or a little older they start telling you what to do. I will have come full circle. :)

    ReplyDelete
  9. You wait to get through the pregnancy. And you endure the first few weeks, months. (Years, if you are me.)

    You get through it. It is an endurance race, not a sprint. It does not matter how perfectly you get there, but that you do - eventually - get there.

    And the rewards are endless, and they happen daily. It's worth it - take it from dilettante who was never very good at the long haul. It's awesome, this parenting gig. :)

    ReplyDelete