Well, today marks one year since I started this crazy journey. I did not succeed, but I still feel really successful. I'm going to keep the list of books up and still cross them off as I go, but I have so much more going on in my life now that I just think setting these nearly unattainable goals is distracting me from what is really important.
I have been considering changing the name to my blog for a while. I love to read, and I have really missed running, but I think I'm turning a corner in my life where these things are not going to take the kind of priority that they used to have.
What I actually have been wanting to write about really centers more around pregnancy and motherhood- especially as it pertains to my generation. Throughout this pregnancy, I have been plagued with the idea that I'm all alone in how I feel. This isn't because there aren't a wealth of forums and blogs out there about being a mother, but because they are really missing the frank-ness that I have felt throughout this pregnancy. It's not all roses. Sometimes when someone tells you, "It'll all be worth it," you really want to punch them in the teeth. I understand that it was totally worth it for you. I really really believe and hope that I will feel the same way. But does it always feel like it will be worth it?
Sometimes it's really a matter of the time we live in now. Thirty years ago I imagine that adoption was not as popular as it is now. In fact, from what I gather, it seemed to be a last resort. But now, it's basically in vogue. So when you're throwing up in the toilet at El Torreros and basically scarring the little girl for life in the stall next to you, sometimes you wonder how this can all be worth it when I could fly to Nigeria and basically buy a child.
I know it's a lot harder than that-- but time consuming just doesn't compare to miserable suffering in my book. Because, let's be honest, for most of us, pregnancy is gross.
I have finally, after a long, long, almost 9 month journey, begun to realize that my child is precious. I can't help it that it took a while, and after much prayer I finally felt like God was telling me that it was ok to have struggled with pregnancy and motherhood as much as I did. No one can ever make me feel guilty about my feelings. Child bearing is really quire terrifying- even more so when you didn't expect to be harboring one for another 5 years or so.
I'm sure I'll revisit a lot of these themes later on, but I did want to give a little introduction as to the path of the blog (probably from now on). It will be interlaced with jobs and goals and other family and friend matters, but I'm realizing now that the little peanut will always be at the center of my life from now on.
It's feeling a little more ok every day.