It’s not about me anymore


I am not the greatest planner or task master.  I always have a tentative plan in my head of how I’d like for things to go (how could I not?), but my choices and actions are almost always last minute.  Things change.  They don’t always go to plan and it’s hard to adjust once my mind is made up.  Or I make up my mind and then regret what I did.  I find the sooner I plan, the sooner plans change and then change again.  I don’t have time for that.  My mind doesn’t have room for that.  As you could guess, my decision-making skills are not the best.  Things need to simmer in my head for as long as possible before they can go into action.  What do you want to eat?  What do you want to do?  Where do you want to go?  Never ask me those questions if you want a response right away.  I want to have an answer.  I do.  I’m not afraid to speak up when I have an idea.  I usually can voice what I DON’T want immediately.  But, for some reason, the simplest of answers don’t come my way. 


In the past I’ve coped with this hearing the following thoughts:

-I remind myself there are 24 hours in a day.  I can work on this all day, but if I don’t finish this by a set time, I will have to cut into my sleep time.  That is simply not acceptable so I Must. Finish. ASAP.  

-I remind myself to prioritize.  What can I finish now?  What can I finish later?  (And then of course, what can I put off for tomorrow to give myself the “break” I need to feel now?)

-And alas, I remind myself this will not kill me.  If I’m not going to die from this it can’t possibly be as dreadful of a task as I’m making it.  Just decide, and finish.


As luck would have it, things are becoming different.  Dare I say the hardest lessons of my life thus far have slowly emerged “in weeks.”  In one brief moment, change slapped me in the face and I’ve been adjusting ever since “in weeks.”  I wanted this change.  I even tentatively planned for how I wanted it to go in my head.  But I didn’t get to decide the day or work toward a deadline.  Two little lines happened to me, completely flipped my world around, and left me stunned.  It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  Everything changed.  It’s not about me anymore.

First trimester taught me that tasks need to be finished ahead of time, or they won’t be finished.  I don’t get to let decisions simmer in my head because I don’t know what the day will bring or how I will feel.  Daily survival is paramount and if I can function in this minute, I must do it.  Plus, adding the extra stress may, in fact, kill me.

Second trimester proved to me that all I have now are decisions.  And they matter more than they did before.  Every second is a decision and I have the constant reminder because now I can feel her moving.  I have to get over this.  And I have to become better at making them. 

Third trimester has showed me that I really need to decide, plan, and do now.  If I don’t, I’ll forget.  And since my greatest daily skill of multi-tasking has been stripped away from me, I have no choice but to become a do-er.  Right here.  Right now.  My deadline is not later, it’s now.  I don’t get to think about it until the last minute.  I have to decide to be prepared.  I can’t put things off for tomorrow and I can’t compromise sleep.  It doesn’t exist now, and it won’t exist later. 


3 thoughts on “It’s not about me anymore

  1. Brava, brava. So week written from brain to page. I’m guessing you take your time is slices like this. Getting them just right. I applaud that and I applaud your process. I am very much the same. Sit and summer unless I hate it.

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