Lucky. No, REALLY Lucky.March 5, 2013 at 10:52 pm | Posted in A Year of Mindfulness, Choosing Happiness. | 18 Comments
Please don’t hate me for posting and then running away. I promise I’m still here, still alive.
It’s work. OMG, people, it’s killing me. I’m with a new client where I’m filling in for an accounting manager who is on maternity leave (yes, I know. The irony!) and it’s just NUTTY. Regular payrolls, off-cycle payrolls, invoice reviews, journal entries, month end close.
As much as I hate the detail orientation of my job, at least I’m busy. And I have to admit, I like the breakneck pace. So that’s something.
Because I am so damn busy, my best thinking time, right now, is usually on my weekend long runs.
And the thought struck me this past weekend.
We got really lucky when we brought home our son.
And yes, I know, I’ve said that before. But always with bitterness, the taste of my broken dreams on my tongue. With the pain of struggling and two miscarriages and no hope left as part of that sentence.
I’ve been so focused on how much it hurts that we just got lucky that I’ve ignored the fact we got really, really lucky in the first place.
But the thing is. We DID get lucky. We really did.
And what would it be like to focus on the fact that we got lucky when we brought home our son? To embrace what a miracle it is that THAT embryo implanted in a place in my uterus which was able to sustain him, and my body nourished him for 37 weeks and 2 days?
What would it be like to forgive my body for not being able to have another child? To accept it as a part of me, faulty uterus and all, because it was that body that carried our son, that fed him for most of the first year of his life, that tickles and embraces and wraps around him as he grows?
I am so tired of resisting, of fighting my body, of tasting bitterness whenever I look in the mirror. Yeah, I might look better than I did, but this body still failed me.
It’s like I’m so myopically focused on the Fail that I forget what my body can DO, how lucky I really AM.
I have a good life.
What would it be like to spend time focusing on the good?
I don’t know.
But I’m going to start.
I need to find a way to move on. And I know, seeing a post on FB about how “being an only child sucks!” will hurt. And the question, “is he your only?” will hurt, too.
But we are lucky, too. Lucky AND unlucky. And it’s time I start looking at the whole picture.
This weekend, I ran a 10 mile race. And at the start, when I got my number, there was a table where a woman was selling t-shirts. The Company is called the b positive project, and they had t-shirts for St. Patrick’s Day.
Which, as all of you know, is Lucky’s 5th birthday this year.
So I bought a shirt, and I got home and put it on. Fit perfectly.
And tonight, when I showed my nearly 5-year old the shirt, he told me to put it on. When I did, he said to me: Mommy! I like that shirt – it looks like my hat. I want to take a picture of you!
I hate having pictures taken of me. And this one – my hair was a mess, and so was our kitchen. And really, no, I don’t want a picture taken of me, thanks. I’m good.
But hey. He wanted to do it. And really, why not?
So I gave him my iPhone, and watched him as he stepped back, said, Say cheese, Mommy! Look pretty! and carefully took a picture of me.
The time is going by so quickly; with every day he’s growing up, learning something new, teaching me about patience, and love, and parenting. He makes me a better person.
He is my joy, even when he drives me batty.
And so. Here’s the picture he took of me today. Me, in my messy kitchen, ripped slippers, messy hair, and all. This is my life.
I am so very lucky.