Leaning into joy and later disappointment, and I'm still okay

This post really has no direct correlation to addiction, but this is a good place to journal some thoughts and my personal breakdown and experience with vulnerability, and of leaning into discomfort and joy. Yet, it very much is related to addiction because I would've never delved so deeply into these topics had it not been for propelling numbing and addictive behaviors that I have been trying to understand.

Brene' Brown teaches me not to rob myself of joy with the "what if's" (at least that's how I think of it). I practiced that when I took a positive pregnancy test in October. *This* was a joyous moment for me, or at least I suspected it should be, but within moments of actually accepting the reality of what I was looking at on my bathroom counter the "what ifs" began to enter into my mind:

"What if he/she isn't healthy?"

"You can't/shouldn't tell anyone because you might miscarry." Essentially everything that could possibly go wrong knocked at my door. But I refused to let them settle. Why? Because they were robbing me of my joy! And although feeling that level of joy was somewhat uncomfortable and unfamiliar, I embraced it.

I embraced overwhelming joy and happiness in that moment.

But today I feel the opposite of joy. I haven't been shy in letting others know I hope for a girl. Did I know there was a chance for a boy? Of course I did. But I wasn't going to bury my reality of hope for a girl just because it could be a boy. I let myself feel hope. I allowed myself to dream and imagine life with a girl.

Only my son attended the ultrasound with me this morning. When the tech told us 1/2 way through, "It's a boy!" my response was, "Bummer." My son's was more excited, "Yes! I always guess right. Like this morning, when I guessed which elevator door was going to open, I guessed that right, too!"

The tech continued her work and I lay there silently, disappointedly. I honestly didn't anticipate how deeply the disappointment would settle if I learned it was a boy. Tears began to form. I didn't cry an ugly cry, in fact I'm sure the tech didn't even notice the few tears that ran down my cheeks. I felt a whole range of emotions, and exerted my energy into identifying them (in my head, of course) as the tech finished her measurements.

I felt shame knocking at my door ready to tell me, "How selfish of you to not be grateful for a boy", or "You're disappointed that you're having a boy? Some people can't even get pregnant. How dare you..." But I refused to let shame settle. Instead I decided to feel empathy for myself. I let compassion in. I reminded myself how it was okay to be disappointed and how proud I am of myself to let myself be vulnerable throughout this pregnancy thus far.

That's not to say I wasn't happy when the appointment was finally over. I went to Starbucks in the lobby to impulsively buy a hot chocolate. It was my attempt to numb at least some of the sadness. We browsed the baby shops and seriously the girl selection was way better than the boy's. Sadness overwhelmed me again. I just let it. I did come across some cute adorable baby bow ties, though! "This just might do it," I thought, "I will be able to get excited about a boy eventually."

I will be getting this boy a freakin' adorable bow tie eventually, just not one from the hospital that costs $26. It will stand as my reminder that embracing vulnerability is the way to wholehearted living. And that's one of the biggest things I want to teach my sons--to know who they are, to know they are worthy of love and belonging and to live life wholeheartedly.