Bedtime

I was thinking the other day about how hard things are. Changing diapers, no sleep, constant attention, being trapped. Then I remembered how hard it was before, when I wasn't getting pregnant. When everyone else was having theirs, and then their seconds. It hurt so much. It was the first time in my life I experienced jealousy to that degree. I was jealous of people I loved. I longed to have their problems. Now I do, and I love it! I am happy. Things are not that hard, I just forgot for a moment. Then I remembered. Happiness come and goes in waves, sometimes strong, sometimes weak.

I remember when I was 13 years old and my grandfather died, I looked at my grandmother and wondered how she could ever be happy. When the worst thing that could possibly happen happens, where is there room for happiness? Of course we need to feel sadness to feel happiness, but in my mind sadness to that degree could never leave. Is there a difference between happiness and contentedness? Could I be happy, yet still hate changing diapers? Could I admit that sometimes things feel hard, even though this is what I wished for? Did I have to have experienced loss and frustration to appreciate what I have? - Lots of questions!

They say that couples who have unplanned pregnancies cope better once the baby has arrived than parents who planned to have a child. The reason for that is the couples who plan only imagine the bliss and are shocked by what is hard, and the couples who dread having a baby are surprised by how wonderful it is. I wanted a baby, we planned for a long time. I am shocked by how wonderful it is.

Do we need to be happy, or shouldn't we strive for neutral? What makes us happy, is it having things to look forward to, is it dreaming of a blissful future? Do we feel happy right now? Is it possible to stop waiting? My day starts out with me waiting for the end of the day, so I can be with my husband and finally relax. My week starts with me waiting for the end of the week, I look forward to weekends when we could all be together. I wait for vacation, where we finally enjoy life. I waited for high school, then for university, then for grad school, then for a career, then for a baby, and here I am. Now I wait for Anise to walk, and then to talk, to start school, then maybe to have another baby. I wait to settle into a routine, and I forget to notice we already have a routine. I try to capture moments. I try to take snapshots in my mind, I do that literally, I hear a click and I try to burn images in my memory, but time doesn't stop long enough for me to hang on to the moment and it is already gone. It is hard to live in the moment when moments move.
Baby is up, time for bed.