You rolled over today for the first time from your belly to your back and I'm so proud and scared and tired and sleep deprived and worried that now I'll be even less. With just a few minutes less of sleep and a little bit less time to breathe because you can't be swaddled and contained and constrained. Will I get enough sleep will I make enough money will I have enough time? it's like there's never enough of anything and I just don't have enough in me.
And then I think well am I working too much and I worrying too much am I losing my patience and my cool too much?
Am I on my phone too much or wanting to get away too much? Are my problems just too much?
Sometimes I wonder if I didn't do enough when you were in the NICU.
Did I not push for nursing enough did I not do the kangaroo hold enough or skin to skin enough? Did I not visit you enough or sing to you enough or read to you enough?
The struggles from your birth have ravaged me and those feelings haven't gone away since I taken you home they've just mutated and devolved and I wonder will I ever be enough for you and for your sister for your father and for me. Do I hold you enough and read to you enough and sing to you enough? will I ever do enough? Am I enough? Will I ever be enough?
