What's One More?
I don’t know about you but lockdown has me thinking all kinds of crazy, like, ‘am I done?’, ‘What’s one more?’
Even though it’s manic and my heads barely above water, I’m going to miss this imperfect season we’re in.
Even though some days are incredibly hard and people will tell me “you got this”, I don’t always “have this”. Still I get through, without my shit together, but with us all intact.
Even though in the mornings I want to spend an hour in the shower washing the broken sleep off me, at night I linger in their warm sleepy breath as they drift off.
Even though I miss the girl my husband fell in love with, he says she’s right here. It’s just hard to see her through the old maternity bra and new lines round the eyes. I’m finding her in fragments, day by day.
Even though some days it feels like a tide I’m swimming against, still, it sweeps me up and leaves me breathless.
I didn’t strut down the catwalk of motherhood like I thought I was going to. I felt pushed out, naked on stage in shoes I wasn’t used to wearing. The beginning was tough, but I miss it.
It’s beautiful and it’s ugly and they coexist together and somehow make perfect sense.
Even though it’s falling down and getting back up, it’s falling harder for them, every single day. Over and over.
Maybe you never feel ‘done’ with a love like that?