A New Light

We've had a rough week, little one.  Three month growth spurt, maybe?  That's what I hope it is.  Early teeth?  Oh Lawd, I hope not!  (Though you do drool an awful lot lately...)  Today has left me worn down and quite frustrated...until I looked at the calendar as you were (finally!) sleeping and I realized it's July 20th.

One year ago today, from this exact moment, I was sound asleep in our hotel room in Knoxville.  We had signed the paperwork and you (along with two other embryos) had just been transferred into me that morning.  I was resting just like the doctor ordered.  As we went to dinner that night, I felt as if I was wearing a sign; as if everyone just knew by looking at me what special little gifts I was carrying inside of me!  I remember praying over you that night with your Daddy, speaking words of faith and speaking life into your tiny little cells.  I knew that in ten days I would have my answer, but at that time, ten days just seemed like an eternity!  I had no idea what the future held, but I knew that we had done our part and that the rest was up to God.

As I began to read through my blog posts from July 2010, you woke up from your nap.  Again.  Groaning to myself, I stopped reading and went in to see if I could get you to go back to sleep.  When I got to your crib, you stopped crying and just looked straight into my eyes.  I just stood there, staring right back at you.  For quite a while, we stayed that way in total silence.  In those moments, I saw you in a new light.  My memories flashed back to seeing the picture of those three embryos, wondering which (if any) were going to be in my arms.  Now here I was, staring into the eyes of one of them.  My heart softened.  My frustration died down, and I lovingly stood there to pat your behind for as long as you needed me to.  A year ago, that was just a dream...a dream that I am now living.

I sure do love you, sweet girl!

Beautiful

It's been a LONG time since I've even had a thought run through my mind to write about.  I suppose having two kids, a husband, a house, friends, family, and finding time for myself (what's that?!) will do that to you.  A friend of mine posted this link the other day on Facebook and it brought me to tears...even choking up as I read the words out loud to my husband.  It's beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  I could not have said it better if I'd written it myself.  

If you're unable to get to it, the link includes a picture of a postpartum belly with stretch marks.  It is called "The Beauty Love Left Behind" and includes this text:

A mark for every breath you took, every blink, every sleepy yawn. One for every time you sucked your thumb, waved hello, closed your eyes and slept in the most perfect darkness. One for every time you had the hiccups. One for every dream you dreamed within me.

It isn't very pretty anymore. Some may even think it ugly. That's OK. It was your home. It's where I first grew to love you, where I lay my hand as I dreamed about who you were and who you would be. It held you until my arms could, and for that, I will always find something beautiful in it.

It's swimsuit season.  My goal this year was to find a suit long enough that there would not even be a CHANCE for my new red enemies on my (glowing white) postpartum stomach to peek out.  After reading this, I don't care so much.  (Of course, it also helps that my mission was accomplished and my swimsuit top is plenty long!  haha)  I now look at myself in the mirror and see things in a new light.  I'm not as disgusted as I used to be by what I see.  I look at my "war wounds" and I smile, for I remember how they got there.  I remember looking in that same mirror and rubbing my hands over my tight round belly as Avery moved and kicked inside of me.  I wouldn't trade those memories for anything; even for a flat, flawless stomach.  

Aah, motherhood...what we'll DO for our kids!