Falling into my family

I always imagined my family in the background of my life.

Like, I'd be a footy player and they'd be the audience sitting back watching me kick goals.

*

Sometimes I sneak up on myself.

Fine, fine, fine, fine... BANG. And there it is.

I've been writing a lot of things here to help my mind put it all together. To convince myself.

I was never happier than when I found out I was pregnant. Since then it's been a spiral of losing control.

I saw another mum at kinder the other day, a woman who a couple of weeks before was carrying a baby inside her. This time she had a pusher. I saw her eyes, so overwhelmed by life.

New life does that. It's so precious and simple that the pace of the older lives around us becomes frightening.

I remember that from when I had Abbey.

And I feel it now.

An urge to just run from everyone and hide away with my little family.

Maybe get some control back.

Or maybe the whole point is to learn to free-fall even further.

BANG.

*

I often say that I took a jump a few years back and that I'm still free-falling.

I'm not a footy player, running on the safety of grassy ground, with a few knocks every so often, kicking goals that are guaranteed to be there.

I'm a skydiver, not knowing what the hell is coming up beneath me.

When I say I took a jump and that I'm free-falling, maybe what I mean is I'm falling into my family.

Becoming part of them.