Yesterday I took the girls to the splash park. It was good for them to get out (and away from the television for awhile) and good for me to get them out (and away from my guilt of them being in front of the television).
The day wasn't as hot and humid as I was expecting, certainly not a day for me to get wet, but Hope jumped right in. Paige, on the other hand, only sprinkled her toes and spent most of the time sitting with me, laying on the towel, and snacking. My three-year-old teenager.
We had fun though, until we packed it in because of the rain, and even though I was tired it felt good to get out of the house, to do a little distracting. Although I do not regret my decision, this waiting and wondering is hard. In many ways I want to stay pregnant forever, because the longer I'm pregnant the longer my son is still here with me. But the unknown of when we will lose him, how much longer we have him for, is so difficult. It's like I'm watching the second hand of clock, tick-tick-tick, just holding my breath afraid that this next 'tick' will be the time the clock stops. It's a lot of breath holding.
So sometimes smiling, sometimes getting away from my instinct to curl up in bed and stay there all day, sometimes reminding myself that I can still manage to parent even when I don't want to, sometimes not letting my mind go there, can be good. Even if it only lasts two hours.