Tag: blessed

Enjoy every second.

S E V E N years ago, I posted this photo on my Facebook with the caption “Current situation.” I remember this day like it was yesterday. This tiny girl usually hated sleeping on me, and I, guiltily, was okay with that. I liked having a few minutes to myself. I liked being able to fold some laundry or do some dishes while she napped. We were having such a hard time with nursing in those early days that I was constantly touched out, and any break I had from her being on my body was welcome. I remember feeling antsy this day. I had her in my lap doing her “awake time,” trying to interact and keep her as engaged as possible. It was so engaging, apparently, that it was exhausting and she passed out asleep in my lap. I remember feeling impatient. I wanted to move her to her sleeper so badly, but I knew it would wake her up, so I let her sleep. I posted this picture knowing what kinds of comments I would get from seasoned parents – “enjoy every second of it,” “it goes so fast,” “soak in all the snuggles…” And I KNEW that advice was true, but I wasn’t feeling it. I felt restless and almost annoyed at the inevitable comments I would receive. But, I posted it anyway. Not really for anyone else (although, cute baby pictures are always well-received), but for my future self – for the mother I knew I would be some day, to remind myself that while my feelings didn’t match my intention, I was TRYING. I knew, that this was something to appreciate, and so I tried to do so.

Being a mother has changed me so much. It has slowed me down, so much so that it often stops me in my tracks. Motherhood has softened me, it has grown my heart in ways I didn’t know it could expand. It has taught me that you can feel and know two different things, and that’s okay. It can be both. In the same way, I am learning that however I’m *feeling* doesn’t dictate what I know to be true – in regards to anxiety, in regards to everyday choices, and most importantly, in regards to who God says I am.

I’m proud of new mother me, because she was doing the best she could and laid the foundation of the mother I am today. Do I wish I had appreciated those baby snuggles more? Of course. I miss them so incredibly much that it hurts. If I had it to do all over again, I would chill the heck out. I was so uptight about schedules and ounces and milestones that it stole my joy. I was so embarrassed about how I was feeling that I stayed miserable. I hate that for myself, but I also want to use it to encourage other new mothers. You’re not broken, we all need help, and you’re not a terrible person for feeling how you feel. You are amazing.

Emotions.

This year, Easter has looked a bit different. We didn’t have the big  family dinner or the egg hunts with cousins like we normally do. We didn’t have the traditional Easter ham or dessert table. With illness, medical procedures, appointments, and the general busyness of life, we just couldn’t make it work this year.

Last night, it all caught up with me: The heaviness of what we’ve been going through over the last month and a half and what we still face, of the feeling of not being able to catch my breath as I move from one thing to the next every day, of the feeling of failure as certain things get put on the back burner, of the disappointment I’ve been feeling as things aren’t working out how I had hoped, of the Easter season and what God’s sacrifice means for me. I lost it last night. Tears flowed as I washed dishes that had been neglected for entirely too long. Anger flew out of me as I bent down to get a ziploc bag out of the drawer and I slammed it shut. Frustration with myself welled up inside as I surveyed our messy, dirty house. I felt responsible for everything all at once and guilt over having dropped so many balls, over not being able to carry it all, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I broke down.

The good thing about knowing Jesus is that you can trust Him to hold your stuff. He’s not only strong enough to do so, but He wants to. We were never meant to do all this alone. And knowing Him means that while I may lose my *crap* for a few minutes on a Saturday night, my emotions aren’t me. They don’t have the final say. I can take my messy, tangled, raw emotions and lay them at His feet. He can handle them. He can sort them out. He can guide my steps in the way I should go, and He can help me carry the things that are too heavy for me to shoulder on my own.

My sweet seven year old fell asleep on me today.

So, I’m thankful for our non-traditional Easter – for my mom coming to church with us this morning, for going out to eat with my mom and sister, for the snuggles I got because our daughter isn’t feeling well (she NAPPED on me!) Because, in the end, it’s not about the way you celebrate Easter. It’s about WHO you are celebrating ✝️❤️

Home Sweet Home.

Home. All kinds of people have often defined what home is. Comfort, peace, a soft landing place after a long day, just to name a few. Our daughter is a homebody (we are too). She LOVES being home. She would rather be there than anywhere. It makes going out to eat or going to church an issue every single time. She does not want to leave the house, even for something I know she will enjoy when she gets there [*ahem*, looking at you, school.]

My husband and I planned a trip coming up pretty soon that I KNOW our daughter will be excited about, because she has been talking about it since the last time we went. We told her the other morning, and she literally cried and said she didn’t want to go. She just wanted to stay home. Now, we’ve talked a lot about it since and I think she is getting more excited, but it’s a struggle.

Our daughter feeling completely at home on the grounds of Biltmore Estate a couple of years ago.

Her love of home keeps me so humble, and I just had this conversation with someone yesterday… I always think about that quote that floats around social media every now and then, “Remember that you prayed for what you have now.” And that’s SO TRUE. I have a husband who is my perfect partner in every way. We have a safe roof over our head in a safe neighborhood. We have a healthy, smart, beautiful child. We have a dog. We have enough money to put food on our table, to bless others, to get things we not only need but just want. I did, I prayed for all of this. So, when comparison and discontent creep in, our daughter’s love of our home keeps me in check. We have everything we need, and we’re comfortable and blessed.

Yesterday, we got a new shower installed in our daughter’s bathroom. It has probably needed to be replaced since we moved in, but we haven’t been able to do it until now. We lived with the old, stained, incredibly hard to clean textured tub from the ’70’s, but it always was something that bugged me about our house. Our daughter has cried and cried over the change in her bathroom. She loved the old tub. Last night as I put her to bed, she told me that home felt weird now because it had changed. Then she went into a long monologue about how much she loved home. She finished with, “Mama, can you make everywhere home?” Gosh, I wish I could.

Our home isn’t picture perfect, but it is the definition of comfort to our sweet girl.

I’m so thankful, humble, and blessed. I know that not all people, not all children have that safe space to land every day. And I pray that our home feels that way to anyone who comes into it. It’s a safe space, and you’re always welcome. There might just be dog hair everywhere and the kitchen may not be cleaned up from breakfast. But, people who love each other live here, and that’s really all that matters.

Orchestrated.

I’m still coming back down to normal from last week, but as I continue to look back, I am simply in awe of how God provides for us. It’s not my medical story to tell, but I can’t help but praise Him for how it all played out. It was so very obviously orchestrated that I can’t help but get chills every time I talk about it.

Basically, my mom got really sick two Sunday ago, but we thought it was strep and we would go to the ER to get some antibiotics and be on our way. Through a series of things and people and decisions that were obviously put there by God, a scary diagnosis and a stay at the hospital in Lexington happened exactly the way they were supposed to. An ER doctor who happen to know that her voice sounded a certain way and ordered a CT scan. The same ER doctor who was humble enough to know that he couldn’t treat her and she needed a specialist. Sweet nurses, jovial EMTs who lightened the otherwise very dark mood and ambulance ride to Lexington. A room at UKs ER when so many others lined the hallways. The fact that pediatric ENT was on rotation that weekend and my mom ended up seeing the same doctor who did our daughter’s ear tubes. A nurse who fell in love with my momma and claimed her as her own since she didn’t have a good relationship with her own parents, and who even asked if it was okay to hug her as her shift ended. You all, the situation was scary, but I FULLY believe it happened exactly the way it was supposed to. God was watching out for my momma and working it out in the best way with every step.

I had a realization after all of this was over – I just kept thinking about how bad it could have been if this decision hadn’t been made or that person hadn’t been there at that time… and I realized why God allows us to think of the what-ifs. So often, my what-ifs spiral me into anxiety. I so often think about all the bad things that could happen and spend my time worrying about every possible outcome. But God taught me such a beautiful lesson through this whole ordeal – sometimes the what-ifs allow us to see God working. If mom had made a different decision, we might not have seen that doctor who knew what to look for, we might have not met people we were supposed to, we might have caught it too late, honestly, the outcome could have been really bad. In times like these, I now understand why we have the ability to think of the what-ifs, because it makes us realize what all God has done for us, and how He’s working even when we don’t see it.

My sweet people.

Also, I need to talk about my absolute gem of a husband. While I was off at the hospital, he held down the fort. He did the bedtime things, made meals, took sweet girl to VBS, took her to her ENT appointment (literally the day mom was admitted, sweet girl had an ear tube checkup AT THE SAME HOSPITAL), brought me fresh clothes and coffee, did the dishes, and all the parenting things. He was wonderful. The picture in the post is when we were leaving the hospital after I had been up for almost 48 hours straight and after sweet girl’s ear tube appointment. My sister had come to stay with mom and these favorite people of mine came to get me for some lunch and a nap. Those few days were rough and scary and exhausting, but I had my people and my God with me every step of the way. I’m glad it’s over and we’re getting back to normal. And it’s weird, but all I am able to feel about it is thankfulness.