The Difference

Just out of curiousity, I peeked back through the archives to see what I was writing about a year ago.  I was in a very different place a year ago, struggling to bond with my daughter.  I don't believe in coincidences, because they are usually far too poignant to just be happy accidents.  I peeked back through the archives and read the post I wrote on June 14, 2010, Faking It.  In it, I wrote:

I hate lying through my teeth to every person I meet. I would love for once to just say, "You know what, I am having a hard time feeling any attachment to my baby. Please stop gushing over how easy it must be to love her."

What a difference a year makes.  I stand here today, June 14, 2011, a far happier person.  I love my family.  I ache to get home at night.  I look forward to playing with Laura until bedtime.  I often push bedtime back as late as possible, since we are having so much fun.  This year when people ask me about motherhood, I tell them with complete honesty that I love being a mother, and that I can't imagine my life without Laura. 

A year ago, if someone had asked me about a plan for a second child, I would have felt a tightening in my chest, as the mere thought of another baby and more responsibility would send me into spasms of hatred, nausea and fear.  This year, I am excitedly counting down the days till I hit the last pill in the packet.  In twenty-eight days, Nate and I will start to try for another baby.  In twenty-eight days, we will hope the stars align so we can make a baby brother or sister for Laura. 

Today, June 14, 2011, I look at my family and see a wonderful haven of love and honesty.  But I also see a vacancy, a position to be filled.  We are meant to add a fourth member to our family.  We are happy now, but we are not complete.  Last year, I was a shell of a person, desperately searching for my most basic self.  This year, I know who I am, and am searching to add more.  What a difference a year makes.