The Disillusion Part

A friend told me today that I shouldn't be upset that I won't have a cute baby bump when I get pregnant (because I'm overweight) and that I shouldn't be disappointed that I can't afford the bedding sets that I go crazy over. She said that pregnancy (along with infancy) is just a blip on the radar of life. Just like a wedding is over and done in a day and then you have a lifetime of marriage to embrace. She meant well when she said it. She meant it to be a comfort. A "you don't need those things to be awesome" kind of a speech.

But the truth is, I AM disappointed. I don't aim to have some amazing career. I don't want to be famous or rich. (Although the rich part wouldn't be a BAD thing.) I don't want to be a best selling novelist. Or an award wining journalist. I just want to be a mom.

I know. I am a mom. Check that off the list, right? Kinda. Sorta. See, when I used to dream about becoming a mom, I certainly didn't dream about getting pregnant in college, moving home with my parents and finishing school as a single mom. Would I trade that experience? Not for a lifetime of re-dos. But my life has changed since then. I'm married now and we have a chance to do this family thing the right way. So I saw it almost as a second chance. If Hubson hadn't come along it would still just be Banana and Me. But here I have this chance. My dream to grow a family the right way was reborn.


But I'm also never going to have an adorable baby bump. There's no way that we can afford to design a nursery the way I've always seen it in my mind. I have diamond dreams on a hand-me-down budget. Sure, there are things I can do to recreate my dream nursery on a budget. That's not really where I'm going with this.

What bothers me is this feeling that my dream is less important than some other loftier dreams.

"So you can't afford expensive crib bedding and you wont look like a pregnant super model? Boo hoo. Somewhere someone got fired from a REAL job. Now THAT is having your dreams shot to pieces. Somewhere that person that got fired can no longer provide for their family and you're upset because you have to buy baby supplies at Walmart instead of Macy's. You poor thing."

I suppose that in the grand scheme of dreams and accomplishments, there must be a hierarchy. But what's relative is how it feels. Not having a cute baby bump and not being able to afford my dream nursery feels to me like I've failed. Like somewhere along the way, I dug this grave and now it's time to lie in it whether I like it or not. It feels like my dreams were torn from my hands and while my dreams may not be those of scholars and athletes and celebrities, they were MY dreams. And it hurts. It makes me feel empty and hollow. And if that's how I feel, who are you or anyone else to tell me I'm wrong? And that I should get over it?

When a dream dies or doesn't work out the way you hoped it would, it hurts. It doesn't matter what the dream or who the dreamer is. It hurts. It's not fair to judge the dreamer or the dream.