confession >> this anxiety might kill me

I kind of hate myself for posting this picture.
And do you love how everyone is using the "A Beautiful Mess" App now?
Funny, but totally understandable. 

Saddle up. It's a doozy.

For those of you who don't already know, my husband is in Medical School. Back before this song and dance began (and man is it a long one) my Uncle informed me that he hoped I was an independent person--because that's what it takes to be a Med School student's wife.

I was. I am...most of the time.

Then school started, we moved an hour away from family, and reality checked in. Long hours, stress that I have never seen before, inability to relieve what your spouse is going through...That was the first two years anyway.

Third year has been much easier overall. More like a job--with the exception of a few months here and there.

Fourth year begins this summer. This is an exciting time. My husband has chosen a medical profession, he is applying for "auditions" with programs around the country for his Residency program (which will tack 6 more years on), then after auditions he will go back and interview, and then the magic day will happen where he will me matched to a program--hopefully one we want--where he will do his Residency. Alas, a light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

This is all good news. It's progression.

But I am pregnant. 

And I am due this fall.

And he will be gone for four consecutive months out of state while I am in my last two months of pregnancy. 

While I give birth to our sweet little girl. 

And while she lives out the first few months of her life.

It's hard for me to think about directly because I will randomly burst into tears. Yet I am always thinking about it on some level because lately this cloud has been following me around pouring anxiety and sadness over me constantly. 

And I don't know how to address it.

If I address how I feel head on will it make it easier? Or will it make it worse?

It's hard to live with. It's spoiling the month or so I have before he leaves. I am more tired, more short tempered, more emotional, less determined, less motivated...less myself.

I don't know. I always know what to do with my emotions but this is too big for me.

I am independent, but sometimes what lies ahead and what will be required of me feels bigger than I can bare. 

Deep down I know it will all work out. I have family who will help me out and keep me company. I have wonderful friends who have already offered their support. I am blesses and truly grateful.

But they aren't Tyler. And this new baby is ours, mine and his. I want to experience all of the newness with him. And I can't.

It's not so much about needing help in the middle of the night, or having someone take my kids so I can sleep, or dinners, or any of the daily tasks. It's about his presence being gone. He is my source of comfort. I want him to be apart of all the newborn-ness.

The worst part is that as sad as I feel about it all (and I do), I picture my husband far away in Pennsylvania while I am on my last leg of pregnancy and needing someone to mop my floors for me. And he can't help. And then in Chicago while I am bringing our new baby home to a house with one parent. And he can't be there. And I think about how he will feel.

No matter how hard it will be for me, it will be harder for him. While I am missing him, he is not only missing me, but he's also missing everything.

I know that people have to go through much harder things in their lives. I really don't want to come across as if I am belittling those events and the people who are forced to live with trials. I am grateful that at this time things aren't worse for me, because they definitely could be.

Regardless, I am still nervous, scared, sad, lonely, and terrified a little. And getting larger by the second.

Blah, blah, blah.

Done.