For as long as I’ve been a working parent I haven’t generally worked on Tuesdays. Occasional ones. But rarely. From our daughter being 14 months those days have been just ours. Some have been shouty, hard going, riddled with illness, unexpected juggling and not the stuff of part time working day dreams. But whatever they’ve been, they were all ours.
I realised without having been counting down to it last night, around 8pm, that yesterday was the last Tuesday, just us… The Christmas break dictates (much welcomed at this point in pregnancy!) back up arrives for the next couple of weeks and with nursery days changing on account of the new arrival, that time will never be just ours again.
Tuesdays changed a little, but not much, in two years. Always a time for me to learn more about her, myself, grow relationships with other dear friends that found themselves with a “day off” then too. Snatched chatter and luke warm cuppas were as consistent as the frequent, kind offers of company. My commitment to wear her out with gymnastics, swimming lessons, farm and play centre trips never relenting in between.
And I guess last night as that lump manifested itself in my throat and my eyes prickled (just as they are now…) I turned my mind to three becoming four.
We took this picture back in May and I just love how happy it makes me feel even though you can’t see our beaming faces. Wide smiles drenched in sunshine in one of our favourite places, indeed the only place, we’ve properly holidayed together. This picture taken just days after the pregnancy test to confirm three would hopefully become four.
After a handful of chemical pregnancies and a good few consultant appointments we were cautious for a while, never properly celebrating what might be, always creeping and counting down towards the next major milestone.
But as things started to bed in and begin to feel like less of a lottery, it’s this roller coaster of excitement at one more joining the family and life as we currently know it being totally turned on its head that we find ourselves on.
Countless blog posts assure me there’s absolutely room in our hearts to love another just as much. My epic physio & Elvie are quick to confirm my vagina absolutely is up to the job. Better back up enlisted and put in place from meal prep to gentle newborn routines in those early months and return trips to our counsellor Mandy have seen us wrap ourselves in support as cwtchy as the BBHugMe.
It takes a village. And on the basis of all we learnt last time round we’re not afraid to put hard earned savings towards building that village for ourselves in the absence of family on the doorstep. I desperately want us to focus our energies on adapting and supporting one another through the changes, minimising cross, over tired words being exchanged when it comes to what’s for dinner or who’s more tired this time.
Tuesdays and indeed every day will be so different. But I want all three of us to constantly remind ourselves different doesn’t mean impossible. May our approach to it all be as adaptable as my pelvic floor!
It’s hard to end there (although my pelvic floor does remain of tantamount concern…) when there still feels like so much to think about. But sometimes the thinking doesn’t really get us very far. Only the doing will confirm what will be. This I know we can do…
Here’s to the next chapter, Team Crisp.
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