bump in the road (part two)

This week at work was marred by strange flashbacks from two years ago. Different situation, same awkward conversations. Here I am. I look the same on the outside as I did yesterday, but inside I'm not the same.

Heading to work knowing that there's no great way to "break the news" to my manager, change my shifts, explain my foul mood. Reigning internal debates over who else to tell, who would be understanding, who would awkwardly shuffle their feet, who wouldn't notice a change in me if I just kept my mouth shut. Both situations characterized by invisible internal turmoil, the flip flop between needing to share and wanting to hide. I'd much rather let the rumor mill work its way around than to have to keep repeating myself and receiving the same reactions.

Oh, I'm so sorry. What now?
(Thank God it's not me.)

Suddenly (again) my life is filled with an undercurrent of uncertainty and helplessness. Unknowingly say the wrong thing and you might find me fighting back tears or the urge to punch someone. If I had to choose losing pregnancy to losing my main source of income, I'd pick my husband's lay off any day. But it still sucks.

~~~~

So many things change when you become a mother. And yet, so many things that you imagine will change actually stay the same. To the heartbreak of many, motherhood graces you with a fresh outlook on life but no sudden ability to alter the course of the universe.

I had visions in my head of what life would be like as a mother. A house, a backyard, pancakes for breakfast, wonderful outdoor adventures, reading books together in bed. As the list grows, however, I realize that it's rather material. Those things sure help you feel like a good mother, but they are not really the meaning of motherhood.

I had imagined that as as a mother I would suddenly be in control, at least of my own life. Debt (because I'm still young and I insist on learning all my lessons the hard way) would be swept away with the graceful appearance of our daughter. Work would never be too hard, days would never be too long, and we would never forget to enjoy each other and take a yearly vacation. And knowing the miracle that is any living child, even sitting up at night with a sick child would never seem overwhelming.

The economy, though I'm loathe to finally confess it, has hit us, has darkened my outlook on so many things and keeps me from feeling like a good accomplished mother. Nowhere in my motherly day dreams did the words unemployment, WIC, or welfare cross my mind. Not for me, not as a mother, no way. Sure, we've always just snuck by paycheck to paycheck and on the good graces of our loving extended family, but we'd always had a steady, stable kind of job. I always felt that we were lucky, but hard working, and somehow better than immune from having to lean on the government.

I suddenly feel humbled and on the brink of tears to realize that this might soon be our road. A new road, not a bad road, not a shameful road, just a different road. I'm certain Bella will never say, Remember those days when I was a baby and Daddy lost his job and you couldn't buy me all those things that I never wanted or needed anyways? I know she has no clue, and her smile refreshes me and carries me through to the next minute. But honestly, what a feeling to want to give her everything but not have the power. All things in time, but I've never been patient.

I think my parents must have made it look too easy, set the bar too high. Of course, no matter how much they may have told me (this very moment they're probably sitting, recalling specific conversations that I tuned out), I'm sure I'd still be learning it the hard way. I ought to be used to it by now.