Anxiety comes natural to me. I am, after all, my mother's child... just as she was her mother's child. I have never in my life been so anxious as I am now. The "what if"s the "how will I"s, the "what am I going to do"s ...the questions pague me. And I... I must admit I am completely at a loss. The next step seems to have me befuddled much of the time. Counting, planning, organizing... knowing the next step: not so much my forte. But I'm growing and learning. Theoretically. Somehow, my child will have everything he needs. Seems his name is appropo.
He's dropped. That's good news...and scary news. He's preparing to be born and, as much as I'm ready to not be pregnant, I'm not ready for his arrival. Not in the least bit. Even as I'm sitting here, there is work I should be doing, words I should be writing (other than these) and, clearly, it's not exactly happening. Pulling it together, yeah, that's the goal. Knowing HOW to do that... yeah, that's the problem. It seems that growing up and becoming an adult -- in faith and in general -- aren't as easy as it seems. Getting my act together...geesh!
But time is winding up. And I really need to get ready! I'm just rather at a loss for what exactly that means.
TO THE WRITING ITSELF!
No comments:
Post a Comment