Somehow, I get to be a mom. My body cooperated, despite my taking terrible care of it. My genes did their thing, so my girl is healthy, and I get to have her in a straightforward way. At no point do I feel like I deserve this. Nor do I sit around dwelling on how I don't. It isn't "it is what it is," though; that brings to mind what an old friend said about that: "tautologies are tautologies". I mean, is-ness is a thing, but I'm not much of a fan of the passive voice of that phrase, right now. If this is what the universe is giving me, then I'm taking it with intense, messy gratefulness. Like when I clutch my little hedgehog in his little sleeping bag, close to me. And pretty much always want to cry. It just feels like salvation. It is salvation.
Nights still get to me, and I realized the other night that they always will. I'll feel haunted by some things for the rest of my life. It's not that I mean I'll be suffering from self-perpetuated melancholia. It's just that haunts are dogged, and come on me when I don't expect it. I'm pretty good at distraction, but the truths of the night hit me in pings and if they don't develop into deeper sadness, I will still be marked by them. I don't drink now, won't for a long while, definitely won't want to get back to my old ways - but I get why I did. But since I don't - won't - drink, I just get to sit and deal with the fact that I'm human and marked-up. And by deal, all I mean is just know it. Not much else TO do, except, well, eat candy and re-read Lord of the Rings or go upstairs and mess with a project that is mess-around-able.
Spring is here, though. When does spring not feel like a revelation? AND WHY MUST I HAVE SEASONAL ALLERGIES? Excuse me while I rip off my face. But enjoy the tulips. Spring spring spring. What else is there to say about it? NOTHING. Just "go outside".
I am 38 and get to be a mom, and I'm already hoping I get to do it more than once. I have no interest in any other kind of momhood except my own. That is - I can see why I never wanted to do it when looking at everyone else. I have no idea who I'm growing - she WILL be what she IS, but we will belong to each other, all the same. She's growing while I have joy and while I mourn. She is privy to all my secret thoughts. She has extended my life already, and somehow I feel young all over. And stressed and itchy, lol. ALL OF IT ALL THE TIME, all of it all the time.
Of course, I feel most like me when in love with someone. Babygirl, you will make things even messier. You little kicker. But I want you. And that is so cool.