It’s Friday of a long weekend here, and I have a weight on my shoulders that won’t lift until a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday morning.
I’m scared to find out that everything’s about to change. I’m scared of losing momentum in my writing career. I’m scared of not being there for my kids, for not being able to care for them, for putting them through the trauma of having a sick mother. I’m scared of what my body might have to go through.
Not knowing is the worst part. My imagination is rolling me through hell, and I count the minutes until Wednesday.
Then, I think back to Thanksgiving weekend four years ago. I was just beginning to guess that I might be pregnant, but it was too early to test. I spent the weekend with a weight on my shoulders that year, as well.
I found out I was in fact pregnant the following week, and the journey was a bumpy one. I experienced perinatal depression and anxiety, I questioned why me, I wondered how I could possibly handle what had been given to me.
Today, I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. The child that resulted from that weekend of uncertainty is my absolute joy. The writing career that bloomed from my attempt to process my PPD is the best career pivot I could have imagined. If you had told me, 4 years ago, where I’d be today, I wouldn’t have believed you.
So this weekend, I’m making the choice to be open-minded. I don’t know what next week will bring, but I do know that I’ve not only survived, I’ve THRIVED so far. I’m going to remain grateful for everything I’ve experienced so far, and remember that the journey isn’t always easy.
But it’s worth it.