Return to reality — sort of
It’s been a long, odd period — since 23 December 2014 I have spent only six days at work, but it hasn’t really felt like a holiday. The first half of the break was coloured mostly by my fear of ending up with a miscarriage, and the second half has been mostly about dealing with fatigue, back pain, nausea and food aversions. We didn’t get to celebrate either Christmas or New Year’s properly.
I started today planning to be moderately productive (write a proper post, finish a half-read book, sort out my office wear issue for the week, chase KKH for E’s test results), but I’ve only managed to skim through the book and sort out the clothes problem. Procrastination is my friend. Maybe I subconsciously don’t want to return to reality.
The past month and a half have been weird. I’ve been spending my days napping, reading books, reading nonsense online, staring out my window, making occasional blog and Facebook posts, playing Scramble With Friends on my phone, eating (at least in the past week or so!), and talking to whoever happens to be around (I’m mostly alone). It’s been like some sort of limbo, in which I’m floating outside of the reality of having to spend 80 minutes a day on public transport, a minimum of nine and a half hours (570 minutes! 40 percent of the entire day!) in the office, at least six hours sleeping (25 percent of the day!) in order to stay healthy and sane… leaving me with just seven hours to do the household chores, do the grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning, take care of personal hygiene, maintain my marital relationship (not easy when E only comes home close to 9pm) and have some sort of social life.
The reality is that in this country that we live in, it’s hard to raise a family on just one person’s salary, especially if that income is dependent on a non-professional job (E is an acupressure therapist). The thing is that I don’t believe in forcing yourself to do a job you hate (E used to be an IT engineer) just for the money — we have a God who calls Himself Jehovah Jireh, the All-Providing One. But there’s a really thin line between living dangerously (walking by faith) and being carelessly impractical. So I have to keep my job, at least until it becomes clear to me that God is giving us the go-ahead to take the leap of faith and have me be a stay-at-home mum (and freelancer, maybe).
To be honest, I think it’s a matter of time. Everything I’ve studied and contemplated on the subject in the past few years, both theologically and from secular sources, has contributed to cementing my conviction that once I become a mother, my highest priority after God and husband is my child(ren): their health, development and education. And it’s clear to me that I cannot trust someone who doesn’t share my convictions and beliefs to raise my kid(s). Especially with the way the sociopolitical climate is shifting, in view of a growing global hostility towards Christian family values.
So I’ll take my cue from my plants again, now — just keep growing. As long as life endures, I will believe that we will see the Lord’s goodness here in the land of the living. We just have to ensure that we keep growing.