There’s a lot about what’s happening around here that I don’t understand. At least I’m in good company with my forever dad and dear baby Carter. A lot of what’s happening with mom at 35 weeks pregnant is completely beyond our scope of comprehension. In this way I’m a literal thinker.
I’ve watched her very closely throughout her pregnancy. She’s been patient and strong. She’s been brave. She doesn’t complain or whine about the pain or discomfort she’s obviously in. She’s been a soldier of sorts, marching on toward the goal of meeting this new little person. And she’s done it well.
But now is the time to be real. Everything is ready. The stage is set. And she’s hurting. A lot. I remember the same thing happening in the final weeks with Carter like it was yesterday. Which is why I felt a sense of relief recently when she had “the talk” with dad.
“I’m slowing down,” she admitted, almost as much to herself as to him. “Hard as I try, I don’t think I can do everything I want to do on a daily basis anymore.”
I was so proud of her in that moment. She may have felt defeated, but I saw her being strong by admitting her weaknesses right now. Especially since it’s my personal belief that it’s never a weak move to admit you need help. It’s strong. It’s brave.
I get that because I’m a literal thinker. From the ground up, I observe and understand most things except what is happening to mom right now. I can sympathize, but not empathize, and that drives me a little bit crazy sometimes. But I love her. I support her. I know she’s going through an awful kind of wonderful right now and that makes her one of the strongest people I know. I don’t need to understand to know that. To believe that as truth.