The months of waiting turned into days at some point last week, and as of today, have become mere hours. 48 hours until I move back home. 72 hours until I start orientation for my graduate fellowship.
Almost all of my stuff has been moved home and I've done the best I can to transform the room my crib was in to something that seems appropriate for a graduate student. It's not easy.
When I sit and let myself try to soak it in-the joy of having what I called in my head "the goal" for so long become a reality in just a few short days, the sadness of no longer being able to wake up each morning next to the love of my life, the anxiety of starting somewhere new, I feel wildly overwhelmed. As if there is not enough room in my heart to accommodate so many emotions at one time, especially when each one seems more vivid than any I've ever felt before.
So many intellectual issues press on me related to babies and social work, my brain loves, but for the time being, my heart is the only thing I can hear talking.
