unearthing an image

i know what kind of little girl i was. my mother probably wouldn't let me forget. i loved my dolls, i read, i played house and dress up incessantly. my brothers were forced to play church and house and who knows what else with me - they were pretty good sports. my imagination was endless, but like so many small children, it also centered on mimicry of daily life. so, i played the mommy. i loved on my babies and bossed my brothers like they were my babies too. fortunately, they survived just fine and now treat me with great indulgence and understanding. see, i trained them right.

there's no denying i was a "girly" (ah, stereotyping) girl. i had barbies (something i wish to avoid with ezri), i loved pink and to this day i love dressing up and dressing other people up. sure, i also played outside and loved to swim and even get messy at times, i was also pretty geeky and after a certain age went nowhere without a book. so, wanting to be a "mommy" is, or should be, a naturally deeply ingrained desire that i cannot fully articulate, right?

sure. yeah... i guess.

but there are times when i feel like i'm having to dig through layers and layers of memory, old games, toys, tea sets, books... like alice falling through the rabbit hole actually... in order to find the pictures i held so close to my heart, the ones of when i'd grow up to be a mother.

on days like the ones i've had this week, i have really searched for that image for comfort. when i feel like a ping pong ball being bounced between clinics and hospital and all the (great) staff and docs involved and i come home exhausted with less answers and more misery... i need to remember that the end result will be wonderful and deeply desired. it is.

i had a good cry on my husband's shoulder when he got home last night. i feel like everything i thought or expected of this pregnancy is screwy. my heart rate and such is off and wears me out something fierce and ridiculous, turns out it's something genetic that's been there all along... they sent me for another glucose test. i was fine with the screening, no big, but this test came at a bad time in the middle of a week where i've already had enough of medical stuff. it's just not how i expected to be pregnant.

and really, it's not all that bad. it's nothing on some experiences i know of, and nothing on the experiences of those who deal with life changing illness. it's just me, whining about a couple of simple tests. new to me, but not that bad. i know i'm in good hands and that something will be sorted... i just hate that there is something to be sorted...

when all i'd like to do is have the energy to tidy our room, and plan and dream and think of what it will be like to have this little one. and as i sit here and watch "rudy" with eric, i think about the possibility of a little boy someday too... wow. wow.

i have a lot of dear friends who made this passage what seems like ages ago... my life has been on its own timetable for a while... a little "behind the curve" from some of the girls i went to college with... and they are blossoming into these earth mothers, these incredible talents that are making art filled lives for themselves and their families.

it's an intimidating act to follow. and, i'll confess, there are just times when the idea of being absorbed by potty training, terrible twos, speech development, school choices... yeah. absorbed is the word.

i know what we want for our child... or at least, some of it... that image is getting clearer... but i don't want to lose who i am, or who we are, i want it to be the picture she holds close to her heart like we've held sweet pictures of our mothers and dads close to ours. those pictures are of whole and vibrant people that we wanted to be like. i am so glad we have them.

the reason i played "mommy" all those years ago, and loved on my sweet brothers and bossed them, and read books that filled my heart with dreams of women who had full lives, adventure and family - was i wanted to be like my mom. god provided me with the inspiration in my mother, my grandmothers, and countless others to do this.

and so, between naps and exhausting spells, my heart whispers, "i think i can... i know i can... i am... i will be little donna ezri's mother."

but just know, the mommy club is scary... anyone want to hold my hand?