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Under Pressure

August 4, 2011
by

I’ve been feeling it. The weight of so many things just crushing down on me. I know I can do this. I know I can. But holy holly hobby sometimes it’s harder than you think it’s going to be.

Like the days when I see my son for only 20 minutes. (not counting the ten that I spent just watching him sleep beside me and willing him to wake up but not willing to wake him up.) The days, like today, when I eat three meals away from home and when I try not to let tears drop on my baby’s head when I finally get to tell his sleeping form goodnight.

Like the times when all the tasks fit into my day like some sort of impossible puzzle, and I shove more than his fair share off onto Masa. And all the to-do lists that grow faster than they get crossed out. When we pass each other like robots on our missions to just keep the disasters at bay, just get the essentials in check.

Like when weekend after weekend is booked solid and week after week is full of late night meetings and never-ending deadlines and I just. can’t. catch. my breath.

I’ve just planned a vacation. A long weekend really. I’m going away with a friend for four days and I’m looking forward to it. I know as it draws nearer, I will dread leaving my boy. I’ve never spent a night away from him. But it will be good for me. I know it will.

Funny how right now it just seems like one more thing to worry about though, huh?

And then there’s the biggest looming date of all. The day when all of this gets not twice as hard, but exponentially harder. I feel these last days and months with our only child weighing upon me and my heart breaks for my little boy who won’t know why his world is turning upside down. And at the same time it bursts to know the even littler person waiting for me.

So here I am going from one thing to the next, with no rest stops ahead. It’s not all bad things, don’t get me wrong. I’d say 90% of what lies ahead is good, and it makes me feel happy and alive and involved and capable… well most of the time. It’s just so much right now. It’s weighing on me.

Last week, my doctor gave me the go-ahead to run again. I honestly did not expect him to give me that green light till after this baby was born. But I’m not asking questions. I’m starting out slow and listening to my body. And I’m going to use it like I’ve used it before to get through these overwhelming times. I just hope my body cooperates because I need this. I need it bad.

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