When I would sit and watch "A Baby Story" on TLC, my heart would be filled with anxiety. This was before Annaleigh was even a twinkle in my eye. And even before I met the sexiest man alive, whom I call 'husband'. It wasn't anxiety toward the thought of having a baby. Or the thought of having a baby. My anxiety was never produced from anything concerning the baby-part. It came from the idea of having to deal with being pregnant and working at the same time.
Weird? I know.
I couldn't fathom the amount of stress that would be for a woman. To have to deal with all that 'stuff', red tape, working schedules, returning to work, or not returning, substitutes, co-workers, your boss, juggling life....
Because for me, the ideal situation would be to just be pregnant. To have the freedom to relax. And enjoy. Before chaos ensued.
I would dream of that day. What would it be like for me? Would I have to be working. If so, then I would want to run away from the routine, drop each and every responsibility on the floor, and not care if anyone ever picked them up again.
It seems funny to think of it now. Considering I've already been there and done that: work, having a baby, and having a baby. And not once did I feel that type of anxiety. Not once did I want to run away.
I never would have imagined that I would actually miss working. Besides that, though, you know what I miss the most? The morning drive to work.
The sleep that still filled my head.
My morning travel-cup of coffee.
Shoving breakfast down my throat. While driving.
Seeing kids at their bus stop.
Getting stuck behind the bus.
Listening to the morning talk-radio.
Waiting for the traffic to move.
Watching people fill up their cars with gas before work.
Admiring the shadows cast by the dawning sun.
Getting ready to be productive.
Being ready for 5 o'clock.
I'm still anxious about a lot of things, though. The Lord is still working on me to change that. Today, it has to do more with the actual baby-part.
Just goes to show you: worrying is useless.