This will be the first time in our entire relationship that there isn't a deadline for him to be gone. This will also be the first time in four years that we will be living in the same residence. To say there is going to be a much needed adjustment period is a gross understatement. We are going to have to learn to live with each other.
Literally.
All my emotions on this subject can be whittled down to equal parts happiness and pure terror. I've been living exclusively my way for almost our entire marriage because we've spent more time apart than we have together. And especially the last six years, since the oldest was born, I've been focused primarily on raising the children. Now I'm not going to be the only parent in the household.
Weird.
Yesterday, I had an epiphany. I might have had this epiphany before, but it came to me again because obviously I forgot it at some point: I'm a linear thinker. Either it works out or it doesn't. There is no other option.
I realized this while pondering my upcoming delivery. I have had to accept the fact that this baby probably will not come on her own before my scheduled induction. This means I won't get the labor and delivery that I have been planning for (a natural, non-medicated birth). I know some women who are induced still manage to go the natural route. I am not one of those women, sadly. There was a world of difference between the natural contractions I had with my daughter, and the induced ones I had with my son. After seven hours of the latter, I had to ask for an epidural.
Yesterday, I had an epiphany. I might have had this epiphany before, but it came to me again because obviously I forgot it at some point: I'm a linear thinker. Either it works out or it doesn't. There is no other option.
I realized this while pondering my upcoming delivery. I have had to accept the fact that this baby probably will not come on her own before my scheduled induction. This means I won't get the labor and delivery that I have been planning for (a natural, non-medicated birth). I know some women who are induced still manage to go the natural route. I am not one of those women, sadly. There was a world of difference between the natural contractions I had with my daughter, and the induced ones I had with my son. After seven hours of the latter, I had to ask for an epidural.
Prior to yesterday, though, I was sitting here in a panic thinking that because it's not going to work out the way I want to, then it's not going to work out at all. Everything is despair. Earthquakes will tear apart the west coast. Stars will fall. The world will burn.
And then it hit me: It's going to be ok. Just because things aren't going the way I want them to doesn't mean that all is lost. It just means I'm not getting my way, and I have to deal with it.
This is a good perspective to start cultivating before the man comes home, so today will be spent with much introspection...that, and a lot of 24 (season 5) and coffee drinks.
The exclusive "my way" is about to become non-existant. And it's going to be ok.
I think.
