This is awkward.
I’ve been away from blogging for three months (!) and jumping back in is more difficult than I thought it would be. I’ve spent the last few weeks vacillating over whether to just start up like there was no gap or explain what the heck I’ve been doing all winter. And then I realized that the last few months’ worth of activity is going to show up pretty clearly so I’d better lay it out there.
In late December, we found out we’re expecting again! This is, of course, joyous news, but I am going to be brutally honest and admit that when we first found out, I was not happy about it. And I was shocked at not being happy about it. I believed I was open to having more kids, and I’d even wished for another one at various points, but the reality of it was a bit devastating. And then I felt guilty about feeling bad about it. And then there were the frequent episodes of vomiting and the need for 16 hours of sleep every day that accompany early pregnancy. Between the physical and emotional turmoil, blogging sort of fell through the cracks.
So we’re due in August, it’s a girl, and everyone, including me, is absolutely thrilled about it. Even if we are still reeling a little bit.
Then we found out that the house we’ve been living in since last June, that we were trying to purchase as a short sale, wasn’t going to happen. So we’ve been in the throes of house-hunting and are now facing yet another move. This time with me pregnant. Yay! But we found a house and have a closing date, so that’s great news!
Then my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer.
There really isn’t any good news to soften that one, at least not yet. He started chemo yesterday. It’s been quite the roller coaster ride, emotionally, especially since I’m apparently some kind of emotional retard. I spent the first week after getting the news trying to figure out what the heck was wrong with me and why I felt all weepy and scatter-brained all the time. Because my rational self couldn’t understand why my emotions would react to such news and, you know, affect my daily life. So it was kind of like waking up suddenly to find yourself on a roller coaster that’s already going full speed and not knowing where you are.
I struggled with anxiety and depression. I didn’t feel like myself. Housework and parenting suffered. The weather sucked. There’s a reason filmmakers use weather to convey mood.
And all winter long, as one hammer after another fell and my hormone-addled brain struggled to keep up with everything I felt it was impossible to write. I didn’t want to write about bad things! I want to be encouraging and positive! I kept waiting for myself to pick myself up and dust myself off and find the bright side.
I’m realizing, though, that life simply isn’t always that way. There are seasons in which the bad seems to out-shadow the good, and pretending this isn’t so isn’t just untruthful, it’s wrong. Dark places are just as much a part of life as light. Walking through them is devastating, but can also add a richness and texture to life that makes the whole of it more worth living.
And I missed it, the writing.
So I’m back. I’m not going to promise that you’ll find encouragement and happy chirping and cupcake recipes. Some days there will be humor and joy, and some days there will not. Life is gritty sometimes, but we’re all in it together. We might as well admit it.
As my 12 year old reminded me in a remark she made after watching Saving Mr. Banks, it’s good. I asked her if she liked the movie and she said that she did. “It was a good story. It wasn’t always a happy story, but it was really good.”