No one ever said it would be this hard.” – Coldplay
I’m still waiting to find out if the birth is going to be covered by the insurance I was required to take (per government regulations in December). Insurance that cost me nearly a thousand dollars and my employer over three thousand. By that means alone I think they should have to, being the premium charges are greater than medical services provided to me during eligibility. My birth costs if rejected will be $3200 (that’s about 3 grand less than a hospital birth with no complications), and to-date the insurance has covered $35 of chiropractic and about $200 in labs. I’m still crossing my fingers they cover at least the thousand dollars worth of premiums taken out of my paycheck.
Anyway, I’m doing my best to stay positive, and not having complete success.
I wish life were like college, or school in general. I did great in academics, school was easy. Follow the rules, do your work, and poof you’re done. I Graduated in 4 years with honors, and 2 semesters of double load. I am that person that set/busted test curves and slept through classes to still get A’s.
Life is not that.
What do I mean? It’s a jumbled confusing mess of “wants to’s” vs “have to’s” vs societal dictations vs expectations of/by myself and others.
My baby wants me, just me. Nathan is OK at times, Hannah gets by for a while too, but ultimately, she just wants mommy. All day, and all night, every day.
The problem is, Ian has gotten jealous of her getting all the attention and has started making the same demands, acting out to a very obnoxious and frustrating level.
It’s impossible for me to do the same thing for both children, I must share my time.
Beyond that I’ve been contemplatinging myself, my needs and desires.
Even if I had the luxury of being able to stay home indefinitely, be it working at home or simply retiring due to money plenty, I couldn’t solely devote all of my time to two children. It would drive me insane, my brain requires variety, and lack of variety literally stifles me.
Thus, this month has held the most challenges in just attempting to appease my brain. Too many days inside watching and feeding children has left me stir crazy, but then going out leaves me shaking my head in confusion. I don’t want to spend any more money than necessary to keep savings in case the birth doesn’t get covered, but I still want to have fun. Then I find myself not knowing what fun looks likes anymore. Everything seems like too much work to accommodate two littles and my special diet, & some things just seem plain impossible. I find myself saying I’m not sure what to do, because the old me and the new me (with 2 babies) are 2 different people.
I’ve been attempting to stick to Abraham processes, and my success is still minimal. I work myself up to just fall again. Figuratively and literally.
Figuratively: I have moments where I feel like a naive fool, a wishful idiot, having let myself get hurt. Then I beat myself up for letting it continue to dog me, but have to acknowledge all of the external reminders that contribute to remembering.
I have other moments where I’m overwhelmed with all of the things I’ve yet to finish from before birth, knowing its simply more difficult to get them done when the baby wants to cling to me. I have to stop and acknowledge that I have managed to still accomplish some of them, just not all.
Then I have moments where I panic because it’s time to return to work, and on one hand I want to-finances and variety are needed; but not wanting to on the other-because a large part of me has really been enjoying cuddling with baby and playing with Ian so much.
Those figurative moments have started manifesting literally physically. I’ve fallen 3 times in a little over a week, and I never fall. Previously, my only fall in the last five years was during an attempt at ice skating.
Yet, I’ve fallen tripping over baby’s bouncy seat, luckily I fell sideways and baby didn’t even stir. Then I missed the last 2 steps going downstairs, and fell hard. Baby did notice that one, but was okay more startled and scared than hurt. Hell, that one scared me. I’m still feeling the hurt with several bruises, but it scares me fiercely that I could have really hurt baby. My third fall was on our outdoor swing. It’s one of those bench style with cushions, and I have no idea how, but I hit the ground going to sit on it and knocked the swing off it’s hooks. That after having fallen on the stairs, so baby cried, but again was just startled, as she was snug and safe in the moby.
However, at this point I don’t trust myself, pretty much at all. I’m now to the point that if I have to do something that might cause a fall I either go very slow with baby in a snug sling or I pass baby to someone else. I’ve even stayed upstairs and talked from a distance and tossed things down to avoid going up and down stairs too often. This week has scared me immensely.
So, time to focus, ground, and find some balance.
I want to make my kids happy while still meeting my needs and desires, and meeting necessities of life in a big family. I want enough rest, exercise, and enough variety to keep my brain happy. I want to feel like a productive member of society and be helpful to other humans in need. I want to enjoy my daily activities. I want to feel loved and supported. I want to see my manifestations take shape in wonderful ways. And I acknowledge that the universe knows the solutions for all of these requests and more, so ultimately I want to be in the best receiving mode I can be. I want to allow the divine to assist me with these and all of my requests. My asking is already done.
Relax. Breathe. Believe & Know. Allow. (That’s the hard part!)