Broken

I have put off writing this post, because even in my head it sounds unnecessarily whiny. It is, but I have decided to write it anyway. This blog serves as my journal more often than not, and maybe if I just have my whine out, I can move on.

Every afternoon, I fight tears. Every day, I find myself thinking that I cannot do this anymore. I am too tired, too weak, too heavy, too swollen, too sad. Nobody signed up for this version of me. My husband deserves a better wife, my daughter deserves a better mother, my work deserves someone who gives a damn.

We all know I'm not so good with the change. The transition from mother of one to mother of three scares the shit out of me. I think what scares me most is that I might spend the next several months as this woman, the one who is making it through each day -- and that is all.

But I don't want my life to be something I survive. I want it to be something I live and enjoy and love. In my better moments, I imagine myself surrounded by three kids and I am overwhelmed by the joy I feel even at the thought of silly giggles and small confidences and sweet kisses. I believe I will make it to that day and that I will know this was all worth it.

I just wish making it there weren't quite so hard right now.