This morning sometime, I definitely started questioning some of my choices regarding how I live my life. It isn't anything that I can put my finger on, it's just that at the end of most days, I'm not sure how I'm going to make it through another.
I can hear my Mom's voice in my head telling me that I need to establish a routine and everything will be better once things settle down. My life is in a giant transition now: three more days at my old job, one week of vacation, and then starting my new employment. Nothing that I thought was solid is actually what I thought. It's like stepping off the sidewalk onto the ground, only to find out that an unseen hand has switched out the ground for something else. The announcer in the background whispers to the unseen audience in a conspiratorial tone of voice: "Now ladies and gentlemen, let's watch what happens as Ms. Not-so-Pregnant goes about what she believes is an average, ordinary day. Little does she know that we've secretly replaced every solid surface with marshmallow fluff. Let's see what happens!" Some days, the ground has turned to Jello, which is nice because I can bounce back up. Some days, it's a cloud, or worse, a gaping precipice that leaves me free-falling until the next morning.
Zac was sick yesterday with a high fever and I was home from work taking care of him. Last night, or rather this morning, the combination of illness and separation anxiety led him to only fall asleep on my chest. Anytime that I tried to put him back in his crib, or at least move him off my chest, the effort was met with pitiful howling. I laid there, rubbing his back, thinking about the last time I had listened to someone's heart beat, been comforted by a presence, or laid my worries down in another's arms as he snored softly.