It was one of those days. I was tired, we had planned a lot that weekend. My husband was sick, my son was overwhelmed by the busy day and very tired because he didn´t sleep well the night before. I needed to leave the house for my surprise baby-shower, that I had kind of guessed was happening, but I was still super excited for. I was already forty minutes late because I didn't want to rush off after we just arrived home and leave my son in a state, so I tried to put him down for his nap which did not work because he was over-tired and I was not relaxed. After thirty minutes of trying I left a toddler screaming 'Mama' in the arms of my not-very-healthy husband as I closed the door and walked down the road to my friend's house.
On the way I contemplated the decisions I had made that day and also the things that were out of my control. There were things I could have done better and also things I could´t account for. I felt guilty for our over-scheduling and for leaving my little boy crying for me, even though I knew he would soon be asleep and he would be completely fine. I wondered if all parents found parenting this difficult sometimes, or if it was just me. In these moments I wonder what on earth I am doing having another when I sometimes feel I can´t parent one child well enough. Whatever that means. Feelings show up even when they don´t always make sense. I was trying not to cry as I stepped into my friends house.
And there they were, this group of people. A mixed bag; from different countries and backgrounds and ages. My people. They were there, happy to see me. Ready to celebrate this child growing in me. Ready to listen, to talk, to joke, to encourage. There with their food and their smiles and their thoughtful gifts and their time. They were there. Not just at this baby shower, but in my life. Present. Showing up. I felt caught. I could take a breath. Carried.
I can also recognize growth in myself as I reflect on the afternoon. I was able to be vulnerable in that moment instead of acting like I have it all together. I could accept the love and effort and gifts without feeling awkward or undeserving or wondering how I would be able to reciprocate so I wouldn´t owe anyone anything. Just accepting love. Being OK with receiving. Trusting the intentions and actions of my friends. They are were because they wanted to be, I didn´t have to do anything or try make myself worthy.
There will be love and support for this child, even if I sometimes feel like I am neglecting her already. I am not alone in this. So, on the days where my husband and I feel overwhelmed and like we are floundering, sleep deprived and in survival mode I will remember the warmth of that room. I will remember how we have learned to ask for help over the last few years and that we have people surrounding us, who have and will continue to step up. I will remember my growth and that progress doesn´t need to look a certain way.
There is such beauty in this journey, in trying to live the ordinary well. In building friendships and growing in my ability to trust. Beauty In the rawness of parenting, in the keeping of routine, in the strict elimination of habits that drain me, in the ups and downs. I know I won´t always be able to see the beauty, but today I am so aware of it. And so so grateful for being caught and carried, not only now but also in those future moments of losing sight of the remarkable ordinary.
