No More Lists

    Before I was assigned to modified bed rest I had a very detailed plan of how I was going to organize my life before Baby Blueberry arrived. And when I say organized I mean obsessive compulsively organized. Beyond my usual 'everything has a place'. But to the next realm....everything has a place in it's place. It was going to be wonderful. The kitchen cupboards were going to win first place at a Martha Stewart contest. The bathroom cupboard was going to be so sleek, that if I told my husband where to find the Neosporin, he would actually be able to find it.
    And even the junk drawer in the kitchen would be sorted and put away.

    First, I had to sort my garage. But before I can explain my plan I have to share a little back story. My parents have lived in my downstairs for almost six years now. I have a split level house and originally when Hero Hottie and I moved in we were going to remodel the unfinished walkout basement into a daycare area. That way I could stay home with our girls and still make an income so we could actually make the house payment every month. We had applied for a loan during the times that mortgage loan companies were handing out loans like candy and only cared if you had a pulse to qualify. So we knew it would be easy to obtain a loan but we were smart enough to realize that we would need more money to pay it. Hence, a daycare.
    
       But then I got sick. And then I rapidly rolled down hill into nearly dying. Luckily, I survived. But unfortunately the closer I get to labor the more I realize I have some horrible anxiety about going back into the hospital. Urggh. A few weeks ago because of my torn placenta I had to go to the lab at the hospital and have my blood drawn. I had managed the ER okay a few days before when the bleeding started but for whatever reason having to brave the fluorescent lit corridors of the hospital by myself made me feel just a bit dizzy and I had to force my feet to continue.
     I was surprised by my reaction. In my childhood we were raised with the idea that you just pull up your boot straps, ignore whatever, and continue on. I think it's from my German stoic stubborn bullheaded side. And for the most part, that idea works. It would certainty make winning Fear Factor easier because it doesn't allow you the option of quitting.
     But this anxiety, which I find I can ignore enough to find the lab, have my blood drawn and even joke and be friendly with the lab tech, is still there running like an underground river.

     Enough about my anxiety though. After I was well enough to leave the hospital, I was still in a recovery stage for the next couple of years. Since my parents were having some financial problems and needed to sell their house, instead of making the downstairs a daycare area we made it a separate home and they moved in to help take care of me and have somewhere to live.
     My upstairs is only two bedrooms and a bit small. So with Baby Blueberry on the way I had to do some serious organizing to find room for her.

      And that's where the garage comes in at. Before the bed rest, I had twenty one Saturdays to get it straightened up. I needed it organized so I could move stuff from my bedroom to the garage to make room for Baby Blueberry. It wasn't exactly an ideal situation and I kept telling Hero Hottie that we just might have to make room for the baby in the living room rather than our bedroom but for now it was the plan.
     For the first few Saturdays I accomplished my goals. Man, this making a plan and sticking to it was really working well for me. It was a great feeling to be so accomplished.
      And then my placenta tore and all plans were blown to pieces.

     Not only was I forbidden from stepping inside the garage but I couldn't even clean the house and fulfill my nesting urges.
     My plans for the summer with my older girls...scrapped.
     Plans with friends...put on hold.
     Activities with the PTO...given to other people willing to help.
   
     What are the sayings? Make a plan and God laughs. Or make a plan and it's a dare to the universe to see if you can actually accomplish it.  Life happens when you're busy making plans.

      So first I found out I was pregnant and all my plans for the next five years have dramatically changed from the plans I had.

     And then I was put on modified bed rest. All plans were put on hold.

     Now I'm excited about this little baby, what a wonderful gift to be given when I wasn't expecting another one ever. So most of my five years plans have lost their shine compared to having another child to love.
  
    All my plans for the rest of my Saturdays have finally lost their importance. Tons of time to think on bed rest have made me realize that I spend plenty of time of making lists and planning things I going to do. Or want to do. Or have to do.
    And less time just living.
    But planning to do things is safe. There's no fear to hold us back. Self doubt is quiet. How safe it is to make a Bucket List...how much more daring it is to live it.
    
     I may not succeed at self publishing my stories but I won't know until I do it.
     I may not succeed as the photographer I want to be until I try.
     And I may not succeed at changing the world until I realize that it starts with moving tiny mountains, not thinking that if you're not doing something big and awesome that you're not doing any good.

     And I'm not going to think about the little time I have left to have Bean as a child and let it eat at me. I'm going to enjoy every minute with her, so in the few short years before she's ready to spread her own wings I have no regrets about the part I played as her Mommy.

  
   I love this song by Rob Thomas, it's called  'Little Wonders.' And part of it goes like this:

'Our lives are made in these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours still remain'
     
     
   No more self doubt. No more lists.
   Just life.
   Finally lived without regret.