Baby Blues

I'm in a bit of a funk again, although this time I'm pretty sure I am just homesick and it is not postpartum related. Memories keep popping up so strong that I want to destroy them so I'm no longer mourning for them. I want to rip up every mental picture. Delete every sound bite. Because for some reason I don't know how to celebrate these memories for what they were. I can only grieve because the moments are gone.

And it isn't like they haven't been replaced with even better moments. Bella yelling "mom!" and running to me with outstretched arms, then hugging me so tight I have trouble breathing. But I won't pull away because I love her hugs. "I love hugs too, mom. Mom, I love hugs too." Leo falling asleep on my belly, tiny hiccups startle me every few seconds. He doesn't speak yet, but his eyes tell me so much. And Brian's kisses and I love you's. His excitement over a good zombie movie and our babies.

But I am angry. Mad at myself for never being real. Never being comfortable with who I was. Not being honest with anyone else. Because I could have had it all at that time, and then I would never think back to what could have been. And then maybe I would be perfectly content with now. Maybe friendships would be stronger and there would be more stories to tell.

I've always had trouble living in the moment. I'm always looking too far forward or so far behind. But I can't help but ask myself "am I missing out?" Am I? I never partied. But did I ever want to? Do I want to now? Do I like having an excuse to stay home on a Friday night? Is that why I have buried myself so deep into the family life? What is it that I am always running from or chasing after? Why can't I just appreciate it all for what it is when it is? Am I the only one asking these questions?

Right now what it is is great. Happy little family traveling the world together. Everything I ever wanted and more. It just all came so fast. So yes, I am missing out on something. But it was never something I fit into before, so it shouldn't even matter. Yet somehow it does.

I am so terribly homesick. I miss you all.