Change

Here it is almost 7am on Saturday morning and Jacob and I are the only people awake in the house. I am still trying to convince Jacob that he needs to go back to sleep. He isn't paying attention. I have been awake since 5:30. On a Saturday. When my alarm did not go off because it is not a work day. And Jacob wasn't even awake yet.

I made the mistake of taking him out of his bed at 6:15 when he was still asleep. To nurse. Because I didn't want to pump. And I desperately needed to either nurse him or pump. But now he isn't going back to sleep. And neither am I. And honestly, I doubt I would be able to fall back asleep at this point anyway. Even though I am exhausted from the last two weeks, and all I can think about lately is getting more sleep. But my body is used to getting up early and just going. So that's what I do. Even on Saturday, apparently.

So here I am, watching Jacob, who is intently watching his hands as he learns how to pick things up more deliberately and more gracefully.

And I am thinking. Change is hard.

Not just the big changes, but also the little ones. Like getting up at 5:30 in the morning, even when you don't have to.

Not just the bad changes, but also the good changes. Changes like moving to a smaller town and staying home with my kids. (Really, are you even a little bit surprised that I would write about our move? It is, after all, what I am attempting to come to terms with right now.)

I've already talked some about the adjustments we will be making in adapting to small town life. I expected that. What I didn't expect was how I would feel as I get closer and closer to my last day of work.

I expected pure joy. No looking back. But what I am finding is a sense of unease along with the excitement. Yes, I will be staying home with my kids. And yes, that is what I have always wanted. And yes, that is definitely what I still want.

But I have been at this one job for 9 years. And I can't remember for sure the last time I didn't have a job. (The first 9 months of my marriage doesn't count, because I was actually looking for a job then. This time I have no intention of going back to working away from home...at least not for a very long time!)

My first inkling that this would be a difficult transition came when I completed my separation paperwork for my job. When I wrote the date of my last day and signed my name, I suddenly felt a bit teary. I was very surprised.

But it was still a date in the distant future. Now, seemingly all of a sudden, I am down to my last 8 days at work. And I both anticipate the last day more and feel more anxious about it. What a strange dichotomy of feelings. To want it so badly and then wonder if I really be able to handle it all.

In thinking about why I feel this way...I told my friend that it feels like I am getting ready to amputate part of my life. It feels so strange. I am having a hard time imagining not doing this job. If I were staying home and we were not moving, I would still go to visit my co-workers occasionally, and I am sure that I would hear stories about the kids with whom we work. But since we will be 2.5 hours away, that won't be happening. So there will not be any gradual adjustment. It will just be BAM here is your new life, without really having a transition.

Maybe that's what my anxiety is really about. Not WHAT the change actually is, but the fact that it will be sudden. I'm not usually a jump-in-the-water-all-the-way-to-get-used-to-it-faster kind of girl. Instead, I usually like to adjust slowly. But this time, there is only jumping in all at once...headfirst.