I’ve had 2 rather unexpected moments – both really teary and both out of the blue. Sometimes I forget that I live this new and unexpected life. It’s becoming a normal life. Doesn’t everyone else walk in the door and find they’re forgotten an OT appointment and find the therapist halfway through walking lessons with their babe and her caregiver? Isn’t everyone up late scouring the internet for bouncy chairs for developmentally delayed sensory seekers who like you bounce? Did you not take a moment today to wonder if integrated or specialized SpecEd would better suit your child?
I did all these things and didn’t think twice about them (till now I guess, but whatever). I did however, find myself hyperventilating at a funeral last weekend when I saw my great aunts daughters grieving her loss and realized someday that will be Bub and Obi grieving me except she won’t be able to understand where I’ve gone. Oh yes, that was not pretty.
Then this past weekend I gave my cat up for re-homing. He has had a problem with kids since the boy was born and with the girl taking up more and more of my time and the cat having to be kept separate from the kids, kitty just wasn’t getting the love and attention that he deserved. So that was a hard decision but one I feel was ultimately best for him.
Still, standing at the counter, handing him over, I couldn’t help but feel how I’d let him down by my inability to care for him. Then, in the next moment, I was overcome by the feeling that one day I’d have to do the same for Obi – I’d have to arrange for someone else to take over her care as I would no longer be able to give her what she needed. I think I had an actual panic attack. My heart was racing. I couldn’t really catch my breath. I can’t imagine what the person I was giving the cat to thought. I had to say a quick goodbye and make a hasty retreat to go sob in the car.
Is this was lies ahead for us? It’s impossible to say. Just as it’s impossible to know what kind of education is best for Obi until we get there. Or whether any bouncy chair will do the trick, or if I will go before she does. What lies ahead is a thousand little celebrations of things I might have taken for granted in my old life, and a thousand little heartbreaks too. Some that will sneak up like these two, others that will be there the whole time, wounds that will barely heal before they break over again. Big sobs and lumps in the throat. Big whoops of joy and slight warmings of the heart. Just like any other normal life, I suppose. Any normal life.