Something I'm striving for more in 2019 is to be more transparent and open. Not that I want my life to be on display like a fishbowl—I just want think it's healthier to express my thoughts and feelings (when appropriate) instead of harboring everything up inside. I'm thankful for a great support system in my life: a loving and understanding husband, wonderful family, and fantastic friends. I am so blessed to have so many people willing to listen when I need an ear to vent to, or am looking for some advice about my worries. However, sometimes it's just as nice to get all your thoughts out on a piece of paper...or, in this case, a digital white box.
But, as I've mentioned in a previous post, I don't ever want this blog to become a "digital diary". I don't want this wonderfully beautiful collection of memories and stories to turn into a place full of negativity. Obviously, we all have days where grief overtakes us, or our blood boils so hot we're sure we must be red in the face. And to push away those parts of me would not be true to me, who I am, and what makes up my life. So, lengthy text posts about such subject are not to be made unwelcome here—but they are also not to become the underlying subject of this place. I firmly stand by my claim that I do not want this blog to ever just become an outlet for my emotions. I want it to represent my life as a whole.
So, all that (probably confusing) stuff being said, I now what to come forward and talk about something that's been burdening for, well, quite some time now. And, again, this is not a secret I don't want told. This isn't meant to be a diary post. This is simply a part of me, at least for this moment in my life, that I think should be told. Whether one person reads this, or a thousand, or no one other than myself. The audience matters little. The fact that I'm being open about who I am and "documenting" myself at this point in time is what does.
So let's just jump right into the heart of it, shall we? Baby fever—I have got it bad. I've had it for what feels like forever now if I'm being honest, but now that I'm married and have a house...well, the baby fever is getting incredibly harder to contain, lol. I love kids. No, seriously, I adore them. I am the oldest of four so I have literally always had babies in my life. I absolutely loved helping my mom take care of my younger siblings. From helping feed them their bottle to carrying them to pushing the stroller...I wanted to be involved in the entire process. As I got older, I could not wait until the day that my parents deemed me old enough to watch the kids by myself. Later on in high school, I jumped at every opportunity to babysit for family or friends. I babysat constantly for all kinds of families, as well as had three families in particular whom (at various different times) I was a regular sitter for on a weekly basis. I even took a few different child development electives (by choice!).
When I started working, I also eventually found myself working with kids. I ended up working in an Ob/Gyne office for three years—and wow did I love every minute of it. Getting to be around babies and pregnant ladies all day long was honestly so much fun. It was so special getting to see the same women week after week all the way up until they gave birth...and then they would come back for a check up and I would finally get to see the little ones! I was practically just as invested in some of these pregnancies as the family members probably were!
Although I said goodbye to my old job at the doctor's office, I do still work with children. Once a week I teach religious education to a group of third graders! (to be continued...)
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