Every morning before I push myself out of bed and each night before drifting off to sleep, I try to come to terms with my new routine. It's been a harsh reality, this whole concept of giving your children (especially your baby) to someone else for 40 hours a week. It's been hard to accept the fact that from Monday through Friday, I get only 3 awake hours each day with Ryan. I try to cherish those hours as much as I can. But I know it will be hard for a while.
As I struggle with this new routine, I am both sad and extremely grateful. Every time I turn on the radio, it seems, I hear a story about loss. When I scan news websites, I don't have to go too far before I come across a tragic headline. People all over the world are prematurely having to say goodbye to those that they love. But the stories that make me stop and think twice involve the tragic loss of a child. Since becoming a parent, this is my greatest and most consuming fear.
So, I'm stuck between two feelings. One is a feeling of sadness and self-pity at having to spend so much time away from my kids. The other is a feeling of uneasy relief and thankfullness for each day that I get to spend with them, no matter how little that time is.
While we don't always get to live the life that we want, we should always be thankful for the life that we have. For each precious
and not-so-precious moment.