Sweet baby Jesus, the finish line to our second baby is in sight!
With a little over 3 weeks to go (@#$?!!!) until our new munchkin-head arrives, I’ll admit it-I’m having a few heart palpitations and meltdowns. Like, for example:
How will I leave my firstborn in the care of others for 3 days in a row? How will he adapt to mommy being postpartum/post c section/post only his for all time? How will I manage the recovery? The birth/surgery? The everything? The Universe! EXCLAMATIONPOINT!
And then, there’s this:
Yesterday, my PT and doctor confirmed that it’s 99.9% likely that I have Femoroacetabular Impingement with a labral tear in my right hip. This is the condition that has given me a literal, constant pain in the ass for 9 months. This is the thing that has nagged and ached and taken my attention and self away from so many things I would have preferred to be tending to. This condition can only be fixed with surgery, and while that kind of makes my head spin to think about, the important thing is that IT IS FIXABLE (amen).
I’m trying not to think about hip surgery with two small babies at home who need me. I know there is far more pressing, immediate business that needs my attention, first. Besides, I’ll have to recover completely from childbirth before going under the knife at my hip, and I firmly believe that if this is the solution to my pain problem, well, I WILL BE READY WHEN IT’S TIME.
Interestingly enough, now that I have a name to this junk in my trunk, I find that I’m finally able to give up the helpless feeling of searching, and not knowing what’s hurt, why it’s hurt, where it’s hurt or what to do. At least now, I can say: Okay. This is the thing that is broken. This is the thing. Here is what we call it. And this gives me enough peace to know that I can move on.
It’s a good thing, since now is the time to focus only on what is directly in front of me. Namely, my child, my husband, my family and the daily steps we must all take in the direction of our second child. If I ever thought I was “present” before now, I was sorely mistaken. This time, sweet ones, right here at the end of my pregnant journey, in the throes of preparing myself and my family for our new addition is what being RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW is all about.
It doesn’t mean that I stop having good days and bad days when it comes to the hip pain, but it does mean that I know it’s just not my highest priority right now. I’m clear that my highest priority is THIS MOMENT, and MY PEOPLE. I’m staying glued to this simple truth:
Hard things are not bad things. Hard things do not signal bad times. Hard times contain possibility.
The reality is that all of us are coming up against our hard spots, you know? They show up at the most inconvenient times, and sometimes, we think we’re lucky if we’re able to numb or distract or avoid dealing with them. In my case, I’m grateful that I really haven’t had the opportunity to get away from anything rubbing up against me. It’s hurt and it hurts to have to give up my ideals and ideas about the way I imagined things being, but then, I have this recent, new respect for what actually is, and I’m learning more and more that this is the stuff that I will choose to work with (and not against!).
Obviously, I’m not going to be able to have this baby alone, nor will I be able to care for her and my son afterward, alone. I won’t be able to undergo hip surgery, alone. I won’t spend the next year alone, raising small people. My life requires a village, and this is especially challenging for an independent person who likes to get all of her own shit done all by herself. It’s a change for all of us in my family, as my husband has had to learn to see me as someone who needs more help than she asks for, and my family members have all had to bear witness to my continuing, unending vulnerability.
Since becoming a mother, I’ve learned that I must ask and learn to be cared for, too. As my children learn to be supported and connected, so do I. We learn to weave our safety nets together, and I can only give them what I’ve learned I have to give myself. Some days my needs are trumped by those of other people, but I learn to make up for it in other ways, or to become more agile and adaptable, more willing to find restoration in small, formerly insignificant activities. I know I am not great because I have it all together, because I have nothing together, and I look at my child, and I know: I AM GREAT. It’s getting easier to imagine bringing a new baby into our home when I remember that she will teach us, and we will grow beside her, and this is what we’ve already been doing, and we-me included-will all be enough for each other.
Could it be that becoming a mother is not about using the right diapers, sleep training technique, baby food or breast vs. bottle? Could it be that mothering is not just about how constantly happy we keep our babies, or how well-mannered they become, or smart, or tall or perfectly shiny and spotless and only ever healthy? Could it be that the journey into becoming a mother is really the journey of an entire family, an entire village? And that all of us must learn to be enough for ourselves and for each other? Could it be that we learn to care for our children, by caring for ourselves? Is it possible that we must meet these sometimes hard times and go into them with our whole hearts and our whole selves and trust simply in the going?
I don’t have confidence that everything will be easy or even okay, but who needs false hope like that anyway.
I trust that we can work with hard times. That’s all I need.
~MShare on Facebook