Dreamers learn to let it all go

I think this is the hardest part of bed rest.

I have to let Sam do everything.  Sure, on the one hand it sounds great in theory.  You may picture it as me being Cleopatra, waited on hand and foot, being fed grapes by some hot stud.  (Sam is very attractive.)

Ah, but reality isn't exactly like that.  Nope.  See, because that would mean asking to be taken care of.

I'm the nurturer.  I'm the caregiver.  I'm the one who does for him.

When he was in the hospital last January, I was the one picking up the nurses' slack, running to refill his water, getting him food, fluffing his pillow, all that and more.  He didn't have to ask.  I mostly knew what he wanted and I offered before it could feel like an imposition.  That's what I do.

In my experience, guys aren't built that way.

Sure, Sam will get up and offer to get me something while he's up.  He will make and share his ginormous glasses of chocolate milk.  That's pretty special.  And last night, there was a bath.  I waited for the water to cool drastically before I got in.  And I didn't stay in long, but since my hips have been killing me, I thought he was on track, it really might help.

These things we have down.  And he is great at keeping the dishwasher loaded, cleaning some.  It's not the same.  It's all the little detail things I take care of regularly that no one ever thinks about.  I don't want to have to ask him to water all the plants.  I don't want to ask him, but I'm going to have to unless I decide I'm suddenly comfortable going commando, that we need to do a load of laundry.  There are so many little things I see piling up.  And I have to let it all go.

Bed rest is a humbling experience.  It's also a learning experience.  It lets you know if you made the right choice in bed partners.

This time, I did.  He sticks around.  Sure, there are moments that he will visit with a neighbor across the road, or people will come over and they'll hang out and shoot at targets in the back yard.  He runs our errands.  When he had work, he goes.

At the same time, he's here.  He's present.  He's with me.  He understands how this bothers me, laying around on my left side all day.  He doesn't abandon me.  He talks me down when I get worried.

We've realized a few things about our relationship lately.  It's nice having someone who is enough.  We can travel just the two of us and not be bored.  We can be home just the two of us and not need others, but it is nice to have the monotony broken.  We have this teamwork thing down.  And we have a connection that is only more and more evident.

Sam: This is one of the many things I love about you, why we're together.  No one can hold a twig to you.

me: You mean because you can say something completely random and I know exactly what you're talking about?

Sam: Yeah.  Stuff like that.  You know me.  You get me like no one else does.

I do.  And everyone needs that.  So while there are things I'm learning to let go, we're both learning there are things to hang on to...each other.

Dreamers know how to snap out of it

We spent Christmas Eve worrying and with our life on pause.

It's no way to live.  And I think that's why when Christmas day arrived, Sam made an announcement that absolutely exploded us from our funk.

Sam: Enough.  We have spent enough time worrying.  If the baby's doing fine, you'll be on the couch.  If it's not fine, we'll be at the hospital.  No more worrying.  We need to live.

He was right.

So, I laid on my couch.  And I tried to laugh more and smile more and worry less.  It seems to be working.

I still have my moments where I get a little nervous, a little scared, but mostly...I feel better.  It is a bit of a state of mind.  So, mind over matter...I'm going to get better.

Determination.  That's what it is.

I keep waiting to swell, but I'm not.  Fingers crossed.  And the baby is moving like crazy as I write.  And I won't know about my blood pressure or protein until Tuesday, so I'm not going to worry about it.  Every day is a day that increases her chances of survival.  At the moment, I refuse to accept any other possibility.

For now, the funk has ended.  And when it returns...and even then only with good reason...I will have all the love and support I need to get through it.

Dreamers find serenity

Oh, you all know it...the serenity prayer.  And it's so true.

I have been inundated with so much crap lately.  It's been challenging to hold it together.  With my raging hormones, everything has hurt so much more than it normally would.  Sam came home later than anticipated the other day...by a whole thirty minutes...leaving me to feel abandoned and stressed.  I couldn't answer these work questions without him.  And I was really feeling the need for some TLC.

I get like that sometimes.  More than sometimes lately...

It had been days of fighting with Rachel, arguing with my ex.  It had been days of drama.  And at the same time, I was trying to carry on and complete necessary tasks.

When life gets like that, I just want to get all turtley.  I want to hide in my shell.  I don't want to interact.  I just want to be left alone.  Only there was no alone to be found.

For some reason, I always believe that I can work things out with my words.  And so it is particularly frustrating when my words go unheard, when people refuse to listen.  That's when the dwelling begins.

But I don't have time to dwell.  I don't have time to be upset.  And I don't like the distraction.  I need to be calm and centered and relaxed now more than ever.  No need to bake a tense and angry baby.

And that's when I have to dig deep to remember.  I can only control so much.  The rest, I must accept.  I preach acceptance in love.  I truly believe in it.  Oh, but it so much harder to accept that some of these things are uncontrollable.

So, I carry on with my life.  I work to make the best life possible for Sam and Keenan and Bishop.  Sophie has never returned.  And Rachel hasn't either.

We're doing okay.  Some days are way better than okay.  And those that aren't...I'm letting go.