Friday, April 17, 2015

Six Weeks...

Six weeks have come and gone, since the day our son was born. I have heard it a million times, and said it just as much myself. Time flies. It just does. The older I get (yes, I'm sure I've said this part too) the faster it goes. And I'm sure time has no intention of slowing down, or even maintaining it's current speed.

All of the planning and organizing and waiting... It happened. Taite came home, I blinked, and now it's been six weeks.

Last night Bryan and I were reflecting over the past six weeks. I won't lie, (this is true, I really won't lie to you) as much as I have loved this new season of our lives, parts of it have been hard. Really hard.

I think the hardest part for me, has been realizing that my expectations of how it would be with a new baby, are not actually my reality... In my mind, I truly imagined that this sweet baby would come home from the hospital, that he would magically fit right into our busy-and-packed-full-of-fun lives, and we would go on, completely normally, just with a new addition...

I must have forgotten about scheduling the day's events around naps and feedings and I most certainly forgot about that waking up in the middle of the night business. I forgot about being really tired- the kind of tired when your eyes burn at night, because you're so tired. I forgot about having a messy house that just stays messy for days. I forgot about having uncompleted chores, and a full kitchen sink, and laundry baskets piled high. And I forgot the joy that comes from a quiet shower, or a trip to the grocery store alone.

I have been so blessed by my husband these past six weeks. Seven weeks he took off from the fire department, and he has been an amazing source of help on the home front. He has rocked the midnight feedings, and he daily rocks the sweet baby. He has home schooled the kids, done dishes and laundry and cleaning, and never once mentioned the fact that I may have spent the whole entire day in the same yoga pants I woke up in.

And last night, as I stood surveying the kitchen counters, so many things weighing heavy on my mind, he hugged me and said "you're doing a really great job". And I cried. And I confessed that I don't feel like I am. As much as I enjoy spending hours a day holding our sweet son, and talking to him and feeding him, in the back of my mind, I know that my house is a mess, and there is laundry to do, and I need to take a shower, and I wanted to be able to do it all. And I'm tired. And I'm disappointed, because I thought the seven weeks that he spent at home would be filled with us doing fun stuff together, not spent hanging out at the house.

I don't really think there's a point to this, but here is a conclusion...

I wouldn't trade Taite for anything in the world. Not sleep, not my old clean house, and not all the money in the world. I love that boy so, so much. And there is not one little ounce of doubt in my mind, that God called us to adopt him. Not for a moment would I consider changing the fact that he is ours.

The only thing I wish were different about these past six weeks, are my own expectations of myself. There are so many things that I want to do and do well, things I truly enjoy, like planning events, and hosting dinners, and finishing strong a great year of Classical Conversations, and staying on top of the chores at home. But I'd like to relax a little more, in the midst of the chaos, and just breathe more. I want to soak in this new season of life. I want to enjoy the slower pace that a baby brings. I want to spend hours holding and feeding and cooing and smiling, and not think about the laundry. And mostly, I just want to be thankful for these days, because I know that they won't last long. Soon enough I will have forgotten all about those middle of the night feedings, and I will long for quiet days spent at the house together as a family.

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