Love for Littler Honey

Kelly and I had a conversation last night about lonliness and what it means to be lonely when you're in a relationship as close as ours. She shared with me that she's been feeling a bit lonely lately because I've been so remote. I pretty much said the exact same words.

It was strange hearing that from my partner. Not because I deny it, but because in my remoteness, I hadn't stopped to consider that she was probably feeling the same way that I have been lately.

One of the thing that that she said was that she feels like everything is so disconnected from this baby. This was another revelation to me, because in my heart everything that we are doing right now is for this baby. Every bit of work, every ounce of struggle is to bring this life into the world and make him or her part of our family. In the aggregate, it's all for the baby.

But I realized as I listened to her that the aggregate is not what counts most of the time. Ever notice that? Your heart, your soul, your life can be exactly where you want it to be and yet you still feel unhappy, because in the moment, it's the little things that we look for to find our comfort and stability. There can be no doubt that I love this growing child - Kelly would never deny that - or that we will bond when he or she is born as much as I have bonded with Bailey. These things are known and are not questioned.

But in the moment, I am often doing something other than rubbing Kelly's belly, talking to or about the new baby, focusing in the moment. There seems to be very little outward excitement about having a second child. I cannot deny that I have found it very difficult to verbalize my joy and anticipation. I have felt overwhelmed in ways that I have never felt overwhelmed before, these last couple of months. Kelly blames herself for this, but it's not Kelly. It's not the work that has come out of Kelly being so sick. It's me. It's how I cope, how I get through.

I could list the reasons - I know them all by heart. But that ignores, again, the moment and focuses on the aggregate. The mood that has been hanging over the McFadden house the last few months has been one of frantic energy, trying to keep the details from falling out from under us, leaving little time for joy or reflection on this new addition we are bringing to our family.

I am writing this down because for me, the first step in recognizing what has become a near-toxic mix is to shine a bright light on it. I can see now, after listening to my beautiful wife, that I need to slow down. Not so much for me, but for her and for our Littler Honey and for Bailey. My energy needs to focus inward, into our family and the details be damned.

For those of you know me, you know how hard this is. I take great comfort in a clean house, an orderly schedule and predictability. The task, to let go of some of that to make room for my family, is a large one for me. But I love my wife, my daughter and our growing baby more than I love order, cleanliness or predictability. Kelly and I make a fantastic team, but only when we are working together. And we stop working together as soon as we begin to get lost in the details. Our relationship demands attention, and after a period of time where we do not give each other the attention we need, we begin to fail from the inside out.

I will not let that happen. Not now. Not when she needs me to be an emotional part of this pregnancy and not just the glue that holds our life together. I have to trust that the world will not crumble if the dishes are not done every day. I have to trust that I will not crumble if my perfectly ordered life takes on a bit of disorder. These are things I will discover.

What I know is that my wife needs me. And I will not fail her. It's time to show outwardly, all the joy and love that I have been experiencing internally.