It’s Labor Day!! Whoop whoop. And it isn’t. Wha wha whaaaa. No, I’m not going crazy. The US government recognized the first Monday in September as a holiday to for economic achievements to the American worker. So most people have the day off. Good for you. I don’t. I am working at my ‘real’ job and still working at this ‘impending motherhood’ job.
I am late into my third trimester in this pregnancy. In medical terms, I have reach ‘full gestation’ and can deliver this baby safely at any moment. I’m waiting and I’m waiting and hello, I’m waiting. Could someone please tell her I’m ready? Obviously she is already ignoring my advice.
I did honestly want to write her a letter. What I want and hope for her, but it didn’t ever flow. I mean is there a mother out there who doesn’t want the best? What am I going to say: I hope you don’t give a sh!t about thigh gap? I hope you know love. I hope you know heartache so you can appreciate that love? I want you to succeed where you want to succeed not where I want you to succeed (and truthfully, those should be the same thing).
So what to do on a Labor Day where no one is laboring, but someone sure it kicking the %$^$ out my person? I’m going to tell her the truth.
I am terrified you are coming. This is fear I did not know when your brother was coming. I was worried about his medical condition, my medical condition, but nothing much more. You and I don’t have the same issues I had with him. I guess I’ve given him an out in my mind because he is a boy and there are things I don’t know and, quite frankly, I’m relying on your father to tell him (like the whole peeing standing up – I prefer to sit).
With you, I am more worried about the future. How do I explain to you what you’re about the live through? I know what I’ve lived, what I’ve felt, what I’ve failed at, and where I’ve succeeded. But that is my life. You are going to have your own. You are going to ask me questions that I cannot answer and I do not like this. I don’t know how to respond to my family, my friends, my current people and my silence is disappointing to me. I don’t want to disappoint you too.
So here is my proposal: you ask and I will try to answer. You will be disappointed, but I will still try. You will cry and I will cry with you. You will succeed and I will stand wherever you want: with, behind, in loud rejoice or humbled silence. Your success is not mine, it is yours, but I will be proud of your everything. Do not expect to hear me say “Love you more” to anyone. Love is not a competition and mine for you already exists and will not go fade.
The saying ‘it takes a village’ is true. You don’t know it but you have one already. I hope you will turn to them in hope, frustration, rage, explanation, and guidance. They will offer you an answer distinct from mine and that is okay. Different perspectives are necessary and should be sought out.
You will come when you are ready (but seriously, I am ready so let’s get this one going). I don’t know that my fear will ever subside, but I will be there regardless: laughing, crying, cuddling, screaming, sighing, sleeping, and loving – always loving.