It’s all so bizarre! I keep catching myself thinking: “What am I feeling? What is it now?”Most of the time I feel like I walk around a bit depressed. No, not depressed. This is not depression. I’ve been there and I know it’s not it but I’m scared that I’m getting into it and this is just a beginning. I’ve been down for the past couple of weeks. Lower and lower and I can’t pinpoint the cause. The only explanation that comes to my head is that Arya is growing up and when she hits 12 months we are planning to put her in the nursery or get a nanny. I’M NOT READY TO LET HER GO. I’m not ready to be apart from her. I keep having anxiety attacks at night imagining her crying desperately, looking around trying to find me and I’m not there.
People say – it’s normal. People don’t remember crying when they were babies. It’s all OK. But I don’t feel OK. I don’t feel it’s right. Perhaps I’m not strong enough or simply stupid to think and feel like that. Perhaps. But irrespective of what you call me it won’t change how I feel or think about my baby.
I even sometimes shed a tear or two, when no one looks. Where did these 10 months go? She is so grown up now, how long ago she was so tiny. It swished like a whiplash and I want to go back to those times to keep them for a little bit longer. Of course I understand there are still years ahead and many exciting moments but I wish I remembered more of this tiny little pea of 3.250 kilo. Only now I understand when people say: “When you have kids you will see how fast time flies”.
And there comes the second reason for my recent melancholy. I’ve always been scared of passing time. Since I was a little girl and death lived very close to our family I have been having bouts of panic attacks related to time passing and eventual end of life. I can get down by just seeing a new wrinkle on my face. I hold on to my memories from when I was a teenager. When I was struggling with getting pregnant one of the main thoughts that was haunting me was how little time I have left for trying to conceive. Time depresses me. Whatever form of reminder it takes. It scares me. I’m too aware of it passing.
The third reason of my sadness is my flight to Poland tomorrow. I’m taking Arya to my family earlier than we had planned due to the fact that San-Jay is completing a major project at work and he will hardly be home until the last week before Christmas so I won’t have any help. He also needs to sleep at nights to cope with the long working hours. I think this will be the longest I will ever be away from Sanj so I don’t know how I will manage. But my main fear is that Arya will miss him and he won’t be there. Again, I know you will say babies don’t remember. I don’t want to see sadness on my daughter’s face. EVER! Yes, I realise it will happen a lot. That’s life. But I want to try as much as I can prevent it.