I have enjoyed reading everyone’s reflections on 2011’s exit and the arrival of 2012. Truth be told, I am a total sucker for new beginnings. I love the way a small calendar shift moves people to pause and examine, resolve and hope.
But this time around I’m not feeling particularly compelled to evaluate. I don’t have much in the way of resolutions to offer.
This year I’m pregnant.
What I’d really like to say is that I intend to do my best to prepare for the impending arrival. That I believe that 2012 wields the kind of magic that can make me a better mother to two than I ever was to one. That I will discover new ways to inch my way toward greater balance, despite the upheaval.
But what I’ve learned is that pregnancy robs me of my power of self-determination. It leaves me with no illusion of control. When it demands, I surrender.
So this year I will do my best to succumb with dignity. And I will grab on to a sliver of that hope that is so plentiful this time of year, dispatching an earnest request to 2012 that it doesn’t bring me anything that 2013 might not allow me to recover from.