I took Murphy on a walk this morning — just us while The BF and FoH were out having breakfast.

It’s a strange thing for me at times … this suddenly “just me” business.

Prior to Parenthood, it’s you. Just you. You’re it. No one else truly matters — in the sense that no one else’s entire life survival is depending solely on you.

Then your world is never the same, the second that baby is born. It’s never been so good and so holy shit, all at the same time.

There are times, like this morning, walking Murphy, when I am reminded of what things were pre-FoH.

And I’d be lying if I said a little part of me didn’t and doesn’t mourn the loss of that me.

I do. Because you never forget it. It’s like a gentle shake of a leaf on the tree by the wind. It stirs something up deep inside you.

You remember. You miss the freedom, not having someone attached to you. At least I do. Because I’m still scared, People.

Scared I’m doing it wrong or not good enough somehow and I just want to be good enough for him. I want to be enough.

We come already enough, as we are. I know this. But Motherhood will make you question and doubt this Truth every damn day.

I guess the only thing to do is show up. I can do that. I can show up. You can, too.