Reading back on my posts, it would seem I spend an immense amount of time looking back on where we started, and complaining about it. In my daily life, minute-to-minute, that is truly not the case. I don’t have the luxury of time to revisit those days, weeks, months, years that have led us to here. I am too busy carpooling, shuttling kids to practices, rehearsals and games, volunteering at school and with the March of Dimes, taking care of our house, myself and our family. While it is busy and exhausting, I revel in it. I know that though my days seem long, this time is short.
It may seem I’m not grateful Ryley is who and what he is. Our beginning is not unique, honestly. When over 500,000 babies are born prematurely in the US each year, you logically get that you are not alone……your beginning as a parent is not your story alone. Our journey is ours, and there are days I have wished to change it, to run away from it.
I worry, of course I do. Don’t most parents? I’m going to mess this up somehow, no matter what I do. I’ll push too hard, or not push enough. I’ll spend enough time, or not any time at all, with them. I’ll tell them I’m proud and love them every day, or I won’t. One of my biggest worries as a mom is what they’re going to say/think about my parenting when they’re 30 and talking to their counselor. I’m imperfect and that makes me crazy. I would wish to be their perfect mother and give them no reason or excuse to ever complain about me when they have their sibling conversations years down the road. I know that is impossible. But I still worry. I stress. I want them to know with every part of their beings how much I love them, need them, want them, burst with pride over them, want the very best for them, want them to be happy and succeed in whatever they want to do. but I will mess it up.
I don’t spend every minute of every day looking back. I do feel joy at where we are….am caught up in where we are. And I stress over where we’re going. And so it would seem…..I am (relatively) normal.