The weekend starts on Wednesday

Well, this is another morning that began at 4:30am. This time, on purpose though. I made it to the airport by 5:30 and was in the air by 6:30. Im currently waiting for my second flight to depart, and I should make it to NC later this afternoon.

I already have a huge sense of anxiety about leaving the kids behind with my husband. As I was leaving, the baby woke up and I tried to get him back to sleep, but I ran out of time. I was hoping he’d self soothe himself and fall back asleep…but he did not. So he’s just been awake for the majority of the early morning. Which means his schedule is all kinds of thrown off, and I don’t know how to help.

He’s also not typically bottle fed…and I usually just comfort him by nursing. So I just feel really bad not being there for him.

I do not yet miss my older boys…it’ll take a bit longer than a few hours for that. 🤣

I totally panicked last night about packing. I didn’t even get started until like 6:30pm after my had all the kids in their beds. Then I remembered that I had to print out the programs for the weekend…and that was 27 copies of 10 full color pages. So…270 pages with a full blue background. It took hours. I didn’t even get it done until this morning when I managed to finish up the last of it.

So, yeah. Packing was a bit of a nightmare. I’m sure I forgot things, but I think (I hope) I got all the essentials.

I’m exhausted, but tonight, I know I’ll sleep. And that’s the most priceless gift I can give myself right now.

Yes, this weekend will be extremely emotionally draining and hard to get through, but the hope is that it’s equal parts healing.

The next 2 days will be about working and finalizing details, and Friday and Saturday will be heavy into the actual retreat, where, even though I one of 2 people planning it, I’ll still get to participate the same as everyone else is.

This is the first time a retreat “weekend” has my flying in on a Wednesday, I usually fly in Thursdays. But this year is different, and even though I do hate to leave the baby, he has nearly 130 ounces of milk in the freezer, a daddy who loves him, and a mommy who needs a fucking break.

I do need to prioritize myself sometimes. This weekend is mine. It’s about healing and connection and leaning into a part of myself that I so often don’t allow myself to feel.

At home, I’m a birth mom filled with shame and secrecy and loneliness and isolation.

But this weekend? I’m just a birth mom in a room with other birth moms. And even that in it of itself, is so, so healing.

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