Groundhog Day.

It's 8.45 and I'm ready for bed.  It was a full day today.  John and I somehow conjured up enough energy to finish our vision boards.  We were going to do them 3 months ago, but they were moved from the kitchen table to the computer desk to the bookshelf where they began to collect dust and were in danger of becoming the projects that time forgot. I've always thought the "I don't have time" excuse is a cheesy one.  But now I understand that there's a caveat to that judgment call.  If you're a parent, you probably really didn't have time.  I look around my house and there are plenty of things that need my time- laundry, unread books, unfinished projects, future calendar dates, unwritten emails, blank journal pages, my meditation cushion.  It all beckons.  But baby comes first and then comes whatever else besides her that I can focus on during naps or little breaks.

I tried to let her cry for a couple of nights and in my heart I just could not justify all those tears.  She'll be sleeping on her own eventually, shaving off some months of it isn't worth her crying her head off.  It may be for some, but not for me.  My husband agrees with me on that.  So, we're back to waking up at night and then waking up tired in the mornings.  And I'm back to waking up feeling like Phil Connors in the movie Groundhog Day- he looks at the digital clock in desperation every morning at 7am because he knows exactly what his day will be like everyday while he is stuck in February 2nd.  Holy shit- I just realized as I am writing this that my little one was born on that very day.  Ha!  God is not without a sense of humor!

My husband just went to Blockbuster to rent a couple of movies- two more movies I will probably miss the end of.  Right before he left he mentioned something about playing racquetball tomorrow.  The resentment welled up inside of me instantly.  He went to play softball on Monday.  I am sincerely happy that he is back out there in the world.  He can be, so why not?  I would never keep him home nights just b/c I can't leave home.  That's a really crappy thing to do.  But I am not thrilled about the fact that I still feel trapped and stuck.  Even less thrilled that my nipples are very sore again now that her teeth are coming in.

I chose attachment parenting.  And even if I had chosen another form of parenting, the truth is simple:  I am a momma now.  My midwife/therapist/LC friend could not have put it any more clearly:  "The person you were before you had your baby is gone."  I don't regret it... I just didn't know it would be so hard for me.  I say "for me" because it's not for everyone.  Something about it has some part of me fighting it.  Most days I feel that if I could just surrender to it, things would flow better and I could just enjoy it and enjoy her.  I can't seem to find the new me in all of this.  I know I probably sound like a bad mother.  I'm actually not.  I love her and express that to her in every way.  It's not the things I do for my little one that I am resenting, it's the things I fail to do for myself that I am missing.

Joy, anger, resentment, surrender, detachment, heartbreak, confusion, desperation, exhaustion, anger, envy, unconditional love, indecision, immersion, and withdrawal... all of these things come to mind when I think of my journey as a momma so far.  I made a reference to Groundhog Day and how my days feel like my life is on a loop.  Maybe I'll get the smack in the face one day and realize that within the repetition I can find ways to make my life mine again and make it feel special.  I don't know why I don't feel that now.  It makes me sad.  That's another thing.  Yes, my days feel like they're on repeat, but there is a moment when I wake up in the morning when- after knowing it will be very formulaic- I ask myself, "How am I feeling today?"  Every day is different but erratic emotions don't necessarily  bring excitement to my day.  That's not what I would call a "good different".

Does some part of me think something is going to snap back into place and that my little one will fit perfectly into our pre-birth life?  Maybe.  Is that going to happen?  Absolutely not.  I keep wondering when I'm going to completely let myself be a momma.  On the outside I am and I give her all I have to give... but some inner part of me has yet to be convinced.  Until then, I suppose I will keep waking up to the same day over and over and over again until I open my heart enough to feel that it is ALL very special and just allow life to simply be what it is.  I know this with my head... not quite yet with my heart.