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I Am Not Uplifted

November 8, 2014
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I am not uplifted.

There are stories going around the internet lately, especially around the parenting blogs and Facebook pages. One is a young woman making a brave and important decision to die with dignity, the other, a young mother planning her funeral as her kids run around her living room. Her message is to “enjoy”. People find them validating and uplifting. They are inspired by the strength of the human spirit maybe. But not me. I’m a new mom with an incredible imagination. These stories leave me obsessive, panicking, and anxious. I don’t need to be reminded to live and be present every minute- I’m already worried about missing or forgetting something as small as a fallen eyelash. And the idea of planning a funeral and knowing that you will have to say goodbye to your kids? Forget it. I’m going to lie down.

Okay, I’m back.

My baby is just over seven months old, I spend all day, every day with him. I have it good and I know it. There are crappy moments and bummer days, but even so, even when he’s teething and I’m tired- so tired- and the house is a mess and washing my hair is an overwhelming yet desperately necessary action, I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. So, why do these stories bother me so much? Can’t I be both happy and grateful, especially so, when I read them? Am I really the only person who feels this way?

I understand the need to share our stories, especially the devastating ones, but I also think we don’t need to balance with devastation and crushing heartbreak to love our lives. Am I missing the point?

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