Just like every pregnancy, mine was broken into three distinct segments. Mine, however, were a bit different than what is typical:
1. Grad School Stress
2. Career Stress
3. Physical Stress
Scrolling through this blog’s ancient history (which, since late 2010, reads as the same post over and over again – “I’m going to write again, REALLY!”) I’m reminded that I tried to get back into writing after the first trimester of my pregnancy, just as I finished my MBA. With my shiny new degree and an exciting new project at work, I envisioned writing about my professional aspirations in conjunction with my family at home, with the occasional reminder that I’m indeed still a runner.
Then, that special project took over my life. Or, at least, the portion of my life that wasn’t dedicated to planning for a baby.
Miraculously, deadlines were met such that I was able to tie up loose ends and make smooth transitions at work prior to going on maternity leave. But by that point, I had reached the point in pregnancy where I was just…huge. Honestly, I wasn’t truly uncomfortable until the very end – but in those last weeks, it seemed like it took all of my energy just to be pregnant.
And then, at 4:20 AM on June 21, 2012, Elizabeth Grace was born.
She has been the recipient of every ounce of my energy (among other things) for the past five weeks. There was no balancing anything along with learning to care for this perfect tiny creature.
The first month was a blur. I spent much of it physically incapacitated (more on that later) and emotionally fragile, not to mention completely exhausted. But thanks to the help of my amazing and supportive husband, who happens to be a teacher home for the summer, we got through it.
I’m starting to step out of the haze. Right at the one-month mark I turned the corner physically; at the same time, Miss Elizabeth’s sleeping patterns are becoming a bit more predictable, which has helped me not only get a bit more rest, but also builds confidence in me as a parent. Something as simple as predicting what times of day my daughter is likely to sleep (or not sleep at all) makes me feel like I have the tiniest inkling of understanding of her and her needs.
And just in time! We have a few weeks to figure out how to transition from a one-track family to one of balance. There’s work: My career. Mike’s career. Mike’s other career.
And then there’s the rest. Daycare. Dogs. Family. Friends. Loving and nurturing this beautiful little girl named Libby. You know, that stuff they call “life.”
And what are the odds I’ll actually write about it?