Control

Yesterday a close friend called from Sydney. I was telling her (yet again), how sick I feel and how difficult it is, and she said this was just the beginning. And then she said something very wise. She said that this experience is about "giving up control".

Giving up control.

There is a moment of surrender I am not sure I have quite hit. However the words hit home.

Before pregnancy I had a lot more control. I had control over my thighs, over my exercise, over my state of corporeal. It is too easy to say that I have no control right now, but I definitely have less. And the future is unknown. Completely. Will I carry the pregnancy to term? Will my baby be born healthy? Will the birth be safe for me? Will this baby have blue eyes or brown eyes (I spent some time googling this yesterday. Way too much time on my hands)?

Today I will focus on those words. I have no control over anything in my life. I can make choices and hopefully direct, to a certain degree, my future, but ultimately I have no control. I cannot control my thunder thighs or my growing belly or my pasty (who ever said pregnant women glow?) skin. None.

And of course, there is freedom in giving up control. Once you give up control you can accept what is. Which usually, is pretty good (at least in the moment of happening).

Right now I have had my morning coffee. I am well fed on eggs and fresh feta and I have a good day planned (an anomaly for my lonely self these days). In this moment, I have given up control and everything is OK.

Giving up control.