Living in a Waiting Room

When I was a teenager, I had a million and one plans for self-improvement. I was going to revamp my homemade jewelry collection to look more trendy. I was going to remember to wear my lipgloss and gold eyeshadow so I would be prettier. I was going to start focusing in class so that I would finally get straight A’s. I was going to, I was going to, I was going to… and it was all going to start on Sunday. Because it’s silly to start a new habit in the middle of the week, right? Well, Sunday would come and go and I’d forget about my game plan that I had so carefully written out the Wednesday before. And then I’d remember on a Thursday, and… plan to start the next Sunday. And in the interim, I’d add more “goals.”

You might have guessed, I never got anywhere with my self improvement plans.

And now, I’m 17 weeks pregnant with someone I hope against hope will grow into my second child. And I started to make plans for after the baby comes. Lose all my pregnancy weight for good. Finally write down all the stories I come up with at 2 a.m. when I can’t sleep.

But then, I had all these plans for after I had my first child. And no one would know. Because I was exhausted from being a new mom and then when I went back to working full-time, I was exhausted from starting a new job. If I had practiced any of my goals when I was “in the waiting room,” I would have gotten used to a new routine before it was prime time. It’s easier to “practice” a new routine for when you need it then to try to start a new routine when you’re already trying to get used to a new job or a new person in your life.

Waiting rooms can feel so limiting. Pre-COVID you could choose to pick up a fashion magazine, but now any entertainment you want outside of never-ending infomercials you must provide yourself. Sometimes I see someone in a waiting room start reading a novel (probably one that has been sitting on a shelf for a while). Instead of using the waiting room as a place of dread, the space between feeling unsettled and feeling relieved, they can carry the finally started novel with them into their post-waiting room life. They won’t be daunted to continue reading it at home, because the spine has already been cracked!

While my pregnancy has turned into a waiting room, one where I can’t embark on drastic plans, it does not mean I have to wait to leave the waiting room before I start something new. That way, when “Sunday” comes and goes, I’ll already be working towards my goals, and will be able to carry my new habits with me out of the waiting room into whatever life brings.