Take My Breath Away

If you've read any of my recent posts, you'll know that big changes are coming in my life.  And I am not good with big changes that are impossible to plan for, control, or foresee the outcome of.  So my entire being is awash with anxieties.  Anxieties that unfortunately sometimes come out negatively (as darling DH put it, "you just get in these circular rants where you say the same thing over and over..").  But when I am with DLO, all of a sudden she will do something: break into peals of laughter, stick her tongue out while she concentrates on something new she learned, turn around suddenly and lock eyes with me giving me the biggest, toothiest (all 6 teeth!) grin and my heart stops.  No anxieties can be found.  I am agog at this beam of sunshine that came into my life only 10.5 short months ago.  Her tiny being does more for my soul than any failed attempts at yoga or meditation.  She literally has the ability to stop me in my tracks and make me appreciate all that is good in life, forces me to be absolutely present in that moment, reminds me of the sheer bliss and innocence that somehow gets lost as we age.  In those moments, I embrace all of those things but mostly I embrace my dimpled, chubby-cheeked, curious, joy-filled child that I have been blessed with.  Being a mama has changed my life in oh so many ways.  And as any mama knows, there are some things we dearly miss, but never could I have predicted or appreciated the way she fills my life with her own little brand of sunshine.  "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  You make me happy when skies are grey.  You'll never know dear how much I love you, so please don't (ever) take my sunshine away."

Where's the thrill?

I wanted to write something lyrical and beautiful and fun to read.  I was reading the most wonderful blog that felt like reading poetry, the kind of blog that is a rare beast and most certainly not found in my own musings.  The kind of blog that makes you wish the author would pen hundreds of novels so on that rare vacation when you can read a book you are swept away and feel the soul healing sensation of a book that transports you and nurtures you and heals you.  I cannot actually tell you what kind of book or what subject these novels are, but I know they exist because I have read such books that make me tear up for their wonderfulness but also tear up when I finish them.  They are the books that I immediately go to Amazon and purchase so that in the even rarer case I have time to re-read a novel, they are waiting there like an old friend ready to welcome me back into their embrace.  Ah, the memories of childhood where there was so much time to sink into and get utterly lost in such books.  Now time is so precious that I get frustrated by the lack of quality books because lord help the author who wastes my precious time with inferior writing!  But I digress.  I have always wanted to write like that.  When I read something like that I am re-inspired to write anything, a love letter to my DH, the next great American novel, a fantastic blog post.  And so I try.  And then I realize that I fall more into the "inferior material" kind of author and I am sad.
That's how I feel about all my recent posts.  The one issue with medical school applications (and reapplications) is that it is YEARS worth of chasing after a singular dream. So all the fears and nerves and concerns just cycle back over and over.  Nothing is new, nothing changes, nothing is resolved because no forward movement has been made.  Now we are down to my last month before I am officially a M1.  I still worry about money, about having more children, about time to spend with my children and DH, about commuting to medical school, about passing medical school, about being a great doctor while most importantly being a great mother, about my marriage making it through the stress of medical school and all the challenges it brings.  See, inferior material.  Really I should just make every post about DD because even in noone else finds it soul-enriching, I most certainly do.  A more lucky mother you cannot find.  And that brings us full circle: I feel no thrill over starting medical school because I fear the challenges will most affect my child (and children to come) and this theme is all I can bring myself to blog about because it is all that is on my mind.

The 10-month dilemna

They warn you about how hard newborns are and you get everyone's sympathy about how terrible you look, how tired you are, and how you have food in your hair and mushed into your shirt until your baby is about 6 months old.  Then people expect that the baby and you have gotten your shit all figured out.  At least that is the way it feels and thus why I feel so much desperation as my beautiful bouncing inquisitive stubborn 10-month makes me feel each day like a less and less competent mother.  I really think it all stems to the sleep deprivation, one cannot do anything properly after 10 MONTHS of no-sleep.  You think I exxaggerate?  I don't.  When she was a baby, we thought 2-3 times a night was a lot.  NOW, the standard is 4 times a night.  I really wish I was kidding.  That whole 10-month regression thing plus the fact that she never slept well is really killing us.  It's really starting to mess me up physically, mentally, and emotionally.  I feel like I can't get anything done anymore because I am too exhausted to kick into gear in the precious moments I have to get stuff done.  My exhausted state makes it very easy to make unhealthy eating decisions and makes it hard to have the motivation to get out and exercise.  I feel like I look like a Zombie, I probably am shorter tempered with DH.  Pretty much I thought things would get easier as she got older but I find it much much harder.  Probably because on top of it all, she's like a week or 2 from walking but all she wants to do is be walked around over and over.  And if you carry her, she's not a light baby anymore.  Boy, do I sound like a whiner? I'm just SO tired and getting SO depressed.  And start medical school in 5 weeks so something has to change asap....or I might really start enjoying those nights away from home a little too much. :(