Learning to let go is hard. So hard. Impossible, sometimes. Right now I’m working on letting go of all the images I had in my mind of how this pregnancy would go and the plans I concocted. They are frivolous things, really. Things I can do without, that could definitely never come before the safety of my baby girl, but things I wanted non-the-less. It’s hard.
Letting go of having a ‘Brady day’ where we smother him with love and attention and gifts to celebrate his time spent as an only child.
Letting go of redecorating the nursery into a happy, colorful, joint boy/girl bedroom for my little ones.
Letting go of getting to wash all the new baby clothes I receive, staring at each one and dreaming of dressing her while I fold and hang.
Letting go of wearing the cute maternity clothes I’ve purchased (some still with tags) and getting to be a cute pregnant girl one last time.
Letting go of the baby shower I wanted, complete with a candy buffet and tons of crafty DIY projects I would put my mind to.
Letting go of hitting up all the spring garage sales and happily scoring cheap, pink outfits for my baby girl. Bragging to my husband about how little I paid.
Letting go of the fact that the Spring weather is arriving and I am one of the few that isn’t out at the park with my kiddo, wearing shorts and flip flops and eating popsicles.
Letting go of the fact I can’t host my Easter brunch and egg hunt I was planning (that I hadn’t quite mentioned to my husband yet).
Letting go of the fact that my last pregnancy is ending like this. Me in a hospital bed, family stressed and worried, and the looming feeling of what-if.
Liz is a just a mom trying to keep it real about how little she sleeps, how often she gets puked on and how much she loves them. You can find her here every day writing about real-mom moments.