A week after I had my second child, my son Eli, I was spending time at my parents' house. I was there with hubby Ali and my daughter Drea. Ali was about to leave as the weekend was ending and he needed to get ready for the coming work week. The plan was for me to stay the week with my mom so she could help me handle the new little one and the not-so-new little one, and I was going to hang around until the arrrival of my cousins, Tonie and Lindsay, who were coming the following weekend to meet Eli.
It happened nearly as soon as Ali was out the door. My mood suddenly went south, fast, and I quickly figured out that it was showing no signs of heading north. As near as I could tell I was just going down, drowing is despair, which I unfortunately realized is an extremely accurate chiche. I was suddenly, inexplicably sad, and take it from me when I say that I don't get sad. I just don't. I'm like teflon for sadness, it just doesn't stick. But stick it did that day as I watched my husband walk out the door, away from me and our babies.
I'm a tiny smidgen afraid I will have a similar experience as I watch my husband board a plane back to Houston-a plane that I won't be boarding with him. And I'm painfully aware that, unike the experience at my parents' house, I won't be able to call him back so easily. That day, after about 25 minutes of mounting anxiety and threatening tears, I called Ali just as he was getting back to our house and told him he needed to come and get me and the kids. There must have been something in my voice because, despite the fact that he had just driven 30 minutes home and had just walked in the door, he turned right back around and came and collected me.
My hero.
But somehow I don't think even he can replicate that rescue when he's in a plane over the Atlantic Ocean-I mean, it's not like he's piloting the plane himself in which case I'm sure he'd turn right around. Right?
Now for the record let me say this. I don't think this will happen. Do I think it will be hard to see him go? Absolutely! I'll be the first to say I'm not looking forward to it. But I'm a tough girl, and I like a little adventure, which is what I feel I'm in for with my little excursion.
Plus, in true optimistic spirit, I'm going to blame my little episode on a teeny, tiny hit of postpartun hormones gone awry and cross my fingers that I'm in danger of a repeat performance.
We'll see.
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