For first time moms

my first sweet little girl

Recently we were at a birthday party where I got to meet a friend of a friend who was there with her two week old son. I would say it brought back a lot of memories for me, but actually I have very few memories from what I fondly call “the black cloud.” The black cloud in it’s strictest definition ranges from the moment of coming home from the hospital to approximately six weeks, varying by person. The black cloud can also quite accurately describe the moment of coming home from the hospital to the first full week a baby sleeps through the night. All that to say, I don’t really have memories of it. Just memories of memories; which is kind of weird.

Anyways, I guess I got to thinking about what it’s like during that time. The girl kept saying, “It’s just so weird to be thinking about something else besides him for like thirty seconds.” And I totally understood that. I also totally understand what it’s like to be walking down a dark hallway really wondering if you just fed the baby or if you were on your way to feed her. And the list could go on.

It really is so weird because you feel like you’re functioning; everything seems “normal” as far as your perspective of yourself and time and conversation. But then afterwards it’s just completely blank.

Skipping to another new mom topic here: this advice is given frequently, but this is the way I say it: When someone offers to help you, the answer is yes. Yes, you can take my plate to the trash. Yes, I need some water. Yes, yes, yes. Believe me, you will have your chance to be helpful or strong or capable later on; just accept the help.

It was so fun for me to watch this girl and try to think of what she needed and how to be a help. I’ve waited and prayed for the time when I could be on the other end and in a small way, it came. As the evening progressed you could tell she got more comfortable with being the “babied” one. That’s so good! For all first time moms everywhere, you are so special. Don’t worry about not

savoring every moment or about getting it all right; it will all end up in the black cloud anyhow. That’s just how it goes and it’s okay.

What love feels like

Sometimes love feels like the cold blast of air that greets you as your faithful husband walks in the door from work

Sometimes love feels like hot, stinging dishwater.

Sometimes love feels like a heart that’s hurting inside while a mouth speaks reproof that will yield future peace.

Sometimes love feels like a tiny hand connected to a very wobbly, newly walking body.

Sometimes love feels like the side of your husband pressed up against your own as you do absolutely nothing.

Sometimes love feels a lot like playing ring-around-the-rosie.

Sometimes love feels so amazing you can only respond in wordless worship.

Sometimes love feels like a rock in your stomach once you’ve decided to apologize.

Sometimes love feels like a four year old climbing on you as if she was still two.

Sometimes love feels like your heart is bursting.

Sometimes love feels not so much like a dramatic explosion inside, but thirty pounds of soft, squishiness sitting down in your lap.

Sometimes love feels like a fuzzy sleeper holding a body that’s collapsed on your shoulder.

All the time, love feels undeserved.

Ordinary

Today was a good day with the girlies. What day isn’t good with four little girls? What I loved about today, I can’t really remember. We were together; we played; we worked; we learned (short vowel sound words and blends for them, patience for me). Gracie was as hilarious as a two year old should be; Hope was sweet, and old, and thoughtful, and a little out of control as she tried to make sure she was still worthy of attention. Sophia was Sophia. Mckayla made me wonder more than once if she was going to climb or flip out of her crib. I was exhausted and thankful when it was time to say goodnight.

I don’t deserve this job. Maybe blogging will help me remember that.

Ordinary things make me feel safe and real. That’s why I loved today.