The problem with being a problem solver

Is that sometimes you forget to look around and enjoy the miracles that are happening. My therapist asked me last week to name five amazing things, and though I had to think about them, I was able to list them and in doing so, it completely changed my demeanor that night. One I'll share: I still cannot believe I'm actually having another baby. It is stunningly awesome; a year ago I wasn't done with procedures, and here I am. About to give birth. Wow.

Another one: I wanted a completely different pregnancy this time; one where I felt strong and badass and rooted in myself and healthy. And look, it happened! It happened because I made it happen, true, but also because I trusted that it would happen.

I've heard about this trick from people in recovery; each night before bed write down the good things that happened that day (or something like that). Things you're thankful for. Things that ahem, you may have forgotten to take inventory of in the management of daily life, which for me often involves responding to crisis after crisis.

Not to sound all navel-gazey, but I've been thinking a lot about my role as a wife, mom and well, myself, and questioning the usefulness of that aspect of my personality driving me, as in being so dominant. I figured out that a lot of "crisis" were of my own invention, mostly so I could stroke my own ego and check it off my NAILED IT! list. What would it be like if instead of jumping in with both feet to solve a crisis, sitting back and just thinking about it, for a minute even, and pondering how to respond? Hmm. What would it be like if I just reaped the joy that is coming my way and had that dominate my personality, rather than frenetically looking for problems to solve so that I can feel accomplished? What if the true accomplishment for me, as in a real stretch for me and a true goal, is to just sit still and trust that everything will work out?

I suspect that was the real culprit behind the C-section freak out a few weeks ago; it was thinking about turning over the reins to Pete and what if he couldn't respond like me (and knowing full well he won't, because we are vastly different), and what if no one was manning the crisis response team? WHAT ABOUT MY MANY CRISES, PEOPLE?

And the answer I've found, as several other "crises" have come up, not been responded to, and miraculously transformed into just minor annoyances, and that uh, everything's fine? That there's no real crisis at all, just ebbs and flows of life? Shit will go sideways while I'm in the hospital; things will get missed and Lucia may cry for her Mommy and dinners may not be complete nutritional home runs and you know what? Everything's going to be OK. It will be OK because it's not a crisis. Real, true crises are bound to happen in my life going forward, and it's really impressive that I have a solid skillset to work with on that front. God knows I'll be ready to handle.

This weekend I had a massage in an effort to de-stress. It was wonderfully relaxing, but in a way that surprised me: I had no idea my back was so full of knots (although my back has been aching so uh, maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise). As the therapist worked the knots through, rather than tense up and try to brace myself, I used an old yoga trick to breathe into them. Breathe into the discomfort and know that it won't last forever. [It actually made me want to go back to yoga, which I might consider in the future.]

It made me think of life and the inevitable discomfort that comes with it from time to time. Instead of being in crisis response mode, I want to lean into and breathe into the discomfort I'm feeling and just trust that it won't last forever.