Today I am 31 years old. Today Wyatt is 4 months old. It was 1 year ago today that Wyatt's life first began. A year ago, I was planning for #3, but didn't yet know that I was pregnant. I had "Big Sister" and "Big Brother" shirts sitting in the closet, just waiting for my 3rd positive pregnancy test, and my 3rd chance to share the happy news with Jeffrey.
A year ago I still thought I was crucial to my kids. I thought they would melt into confusion and sorrow if I was gone. A year ago I didn't know know resilient they are.
A year ago I knew that our family the most important thing in Jeffrey's life - in theory. I had never tested his loyalty to me over his education and job responsibilities. Now I know that Jeffrey will drop what he needs to catch his falling family.
A year ago I thought that Jeffrey needed my instructions, insight and prodding regarding our children. Now I know that he can handle outings, cranky kids, missed naps, messy meals, potty training accidents, and whatever else ours kids throw his way. He has a relationship with them outside of me. His love for them doesn't need any molding on my part.
A year ago I didn't know that friends and family would shelve their responsibilities to take up mine. I could have guessed the names of those would come and care for my kids. But I didn't yet know of the friends that would rally to send care packages, cards, phone calls, and e-mails. And I didn't know just how much that would mean to me.
A year ago I didn't know that the child growing in me would be our grand finale. Full of danger, excitement, joy, and finality. A year ago I still had plans for #4. We still had conversations about how far apart we would want the next one's to be spaced. I had baby girl clothes pack in boxes in the garage, full of the possibility of being used again. A year ago I didn't know this was the last months that I would ever count the days until I could take a pregnancy test, the last month filled with possibility.
A year ago I felt burdened by motherhood. I longed for a break. I was tired and didn't see any end in site. Now I have trouble expressing just how grateful I am to be the one to fix my kids dinners, comfort their cries, shape their characters, and join in their adventure of childhood. I'm so glad that I have the strength to pick up Zion and give piggy back rides to Elise. And knowing that Wyatt is our last makes me realize that this phase will not last forever. We will only live our lives to the rhythm of diaper changes and nap times for a few more years.
A year ago I didn't startle with fear at each twinge that feels like the beginning of a bleed. But then again, I also didn't know the joy and relief I feel each time I quickly realize that I am safe. I didn't appreciate the simple little word - safe.
A year ago I still thought I was crucial to my kids. I thought they would melt into confusion and sorrow if I was gone. A year ago I didn't know know resilient they are.
A year ago I knew that our family the most important thing in Jeffrey's life - in theory. I had never tested his loyalty to me over his education and job responsibilities. Now I know that Jeffrey will drop what he needs to catch his falling family.
A year ago I thought that Jeffrey needed my instructions, insight and prodding regarding our children. Now I know that he can handle outings, cranky kids, missed naps, messy meals, potty training accidents, and whatever else ours kids throw his way. He has a relationship with them outside of me. His love for them doesn't need any molding on my part.
A year ago I didn't know that friends and family would shelve their responsibilities to take up mine. I could have guessed the names of those would come and care for my kids. But I didn't yet know of the friends that would rally to send care packages, cards, phone calls, and e-mails. And I didn't know just how much that would mean to me.
A year ago I didn't know that the child growing in me would be our grand finale. Full of danger, excitement, joy, and finality. A year ago I still had plans for #4. We still had conversations about how far apart we would want the next one's to be spaced. I had baby girl clothes pack in boxes in the garage, full of the possibility of being used again. A year ago I didn't know this was the last months that I would ever count the days until I could take a pregnancy test, the last month filled with possibility.
A year ago I felt burdened by motherhood. I longed for a break. I was tired and didn't see any end in site. Now I have trouble expressing just how grateful I am to be the one to fix my kids dinners, comfort their cries, shape their characters, and join in their adventure of childhood. I'm so glad that I have the strength to pick up Zion and give piggy back rides to Elise. And knowing that Wyatt is our last makes me realize that this phase will not last forever. We will only live our lives to the rhythm of diaper changes and nap times for a few more years.
A year ago I didn't startle with fear at each twinge that feels like the beginning of a bleed. But then again, I also didn't know the joy and relief I feel each time I quickly realize that I am safe. I didn't appreciate the simple little word - safe.
A year ago I was worry. Worried about how we were going to handle our home sale, a move, and possibly a pregnancy. Now we are again facing a move - this time with another baby under my care. But I'm not worried now. Now I know how much we can handle.
So much has changed over the past year. The picture of our family isn't any different than I would have anticipated a year ago. Most of the changes are internal. But we are changed. I still look around at my "normal" life and shake my head in wonder. This morning I was greeted by pajama clad children eager to wish me a happy birthday, a kiss from my husband, and the sweet nursings of my baby. I am still amazed that this wonderful life is once again mine.
So much has changed over the past year. The picture of our family isn't any different than I would have anticipated a year ago. Most of the changes are internal. But we are changed. I still look around at my "normal" life and shake my head in wonder. This morning I was greeted by pajama clad children eager to wish me a happy birthday, a kiss from my husband, and the sweet nursings of my baby. I am still amazed that this wonderful life is once again mine.
Elise's gift to me - pink silk flowers bought with her own money.
I can remember the phone call that began the challenging times.I can picture you in the hospital delighting in the few hours you saw your kids each day. I remember your voice describing newborn Wyatt. What a year indeed! And you have come through it with such grace, deep love and strong sense of family and what is important in life.
ReplyDeleteI too was impressed that Jeffrey had the house under control without his wife, although it was evident, your presence at home was greatly missed.
Elise and Zion - what little troopers. They loved to get in the van to go see Mommy.
My friend, you have a wonderful perspective on the last year and reading your thoughts helps me to appreciate the 'mundane' life of 'Stay at home Mom'. I'm so blessed.
Sometimes I kind of wish you did not know I was quite so capable :)
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful and reflective all at one time. It's such an intense year that your family has survived, and I am so thankful everything turned out the way it did, and that you are, as you put it, safe.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your thoughts.