2 weeks old

It’s all still hard, but it’s getting better. Whether that is because of the human ability to adapt to new circumstances or because it’s legitimately slightly easier two weeks in than it was at a week and a half in, I can’t honestly say .... but it’s a tad bit better.

And she’s still adorable. And warm. And squishy. And when she falls asleep on me, immediately after nursing? There’s very little in the world that feels better.  

But she’s been air-side for TWO WEEKS. It feels so much longer and like it’s flown by at the same time. If this is any indication of how fast time will move through her childhood, I’m terrified and sad ... I don’t want to miss it. I want to cherish it. I want to be transformed by the pure joy of it. She’s precious and I never want to lose sight of that ... in fact, I want it to be so real for me that I can’t help but transfer that truth to her ... that she’ll believe it about herself and act and feel accordingly. 

I’ve spent a lot of time holding her and praying over her this past week - for her protection and health and wisdom and salvation and sanctification and innocence and confidence and mental health and relationships ... and I just get the sense that God and I are going to be talking a lot more simply because she exists. 

That’s not a bad by-product of these hard and sacred times.  

Love. 

UPDATE: It’s a few hours later and I’m on the edge again. A little resentful, a lot lonely, a whole lot more insecure - about my mothering, my instincts, my future ... and it’s feeling really heavy again right now.  I’m tired with no good sleep in sight. I can’t poop or sit comfortably like I could just two weeks ago ... and it’s crazy how body discomfort can really mess with a mind (see previous post at 37 weeks, ha). 

So there’s that real life. 

Love. 

on the wrong side of the bed

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Maybe it was a result of my sleeping thoughts. I mean, I know I dreamt about getting pregnant despite the impossibility of it happening. I dreamt about having to end the pregnancy. I felt awful about all of it in the dream. Maybe I've brought forward into my waking life the emotional wreckage of my unconscious mind.

Maybe.

Regardless, it's one of those mornings where I just despise myself. I feel a failure and disdain for the "have tos" and the "maybe laters" of life. I don't want to do freelance. I don't want to exit my comfort zone to put myself out there for the slim possiblity of getting a client referral. I don't want to exercise and eat right. I DON'T WANT TO. Life, would you just leave me the f- alone? Can it feel easy again, just once? Life texts back with a resounding "NO!" and it stings. So, this morning, I've been short and disrespectful with my husband. I'm irrationally annoyed by everything going on around me. I'm mean. I'm sabatoging another's joy. And I don't know how to stop doing it. So, I'm shaming myself for being this darker version of myself.

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But, my dearest love, in my idiocy I am still wise to your beauty. The giddiness you unashamedly express at new discovery and talent ... I envy it. It puts in sharp contrast my timidity and fear. I love how you speak your thoughts out loud as you click around on the web. You haven't yet let my darkness overwhelm your heart. God, may it never. You hum. It's unrestrained. Regular. Baffling to the parts of me that are hard. I certainly do not deserve you and the ways you forgive me over and over and over again. Thank you for playing "MmmBop" like it wasn't random and for not pushing "stop" just because I rolled my eyes. You are the best thing. God, help me to care better for the glory you've given.

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Love.

on two years and counting

"Is it crazy that I'm having separation anxiety when he leaves the house?"

That's the text I got last week from a very newly married friend. My response? "If you're crazy, then book me residence at the funny farm … 'cause I STILL get a little bit sad every time the Mr. leaves for work!"

And it's true. I miss him when we're apart. I still love sharing the couch with him as we wind down the day. I still feel like saying "I love you" doesn't even begin to cover the feelings. I can't explain the overwhelming urge I have to punch the people in the face who don't treat him like the incredible man that he is. I'm a little resentful of the events that require his time on our weekly designated day off together. Still. Sometimes in increasing measure.

I have a best friend that I know I can be real with … and, well, that's just the best thing EVER.

This guy is better than I could have imagined. He's more supportive than I can fathom. And he's so wonderfully talented and capable in all the ways I'm not. The point? This love thing? The partnership? The becoming one in Christ? It's bewildering and I'm blessed.

May my gratitude always glorify the One who got us together and by (and in) Whose grace we'll stay together and love one another and others well.

on happy anniversary to us!

A year ago today, I got married. It's still surreal. Me? Married? How? And to him? How'd I get this lucky? So blessed? Unmerited favor, certainly. Grace. It seems apt that our first year anniversary would fall on Easter … our joy is somehow more poignant, our covenant … clearer … in light of our God's resurrection.

In Greg, I recognize a different dimension of God's love … one I couldn't have known previously. This guy gets me and loves me despite. He is the perfect man for me — providing in ways and through means I didn't even know I needed or existed. This glimpse of God in man, my man? It's so good. He's so good. And today, grateful for a year with the guy He gave me, all I want to do is praise Him … and pray … pray for His continued guidance, power and grace upon our marriage … pray to live generous lives of service and love … pray for wisdom to love better … pray for strength to beat back temptation … to recognize the evil one and flee … pray for patience and kindness … selflessness and humility … pray for the kind of love and union that points back to Him, again and again and again.

Happy Easter, my friends! Love.