Kiss Your Miracle

It’s one thing to talk about my problems once they’ve been resolved. Writing about my experience with infertility isn’t usually difficult because it’s over now. But sharing about something I’m still dealing with is a lot harder. After I wrote a bit last week about feeling down (Blue), I sat at my computer for a while, debating – do I really want to put this on my blog for anyone to read? Eventually I decided not to overthink it and posted it.

I’m not sorry I did. I’ve always known that God has blessed me with sweet, generous friends and family, and all the comments and messages were encouraging (I promise I didn’t start a blog just so you all could build me up when I’m feeling down, but thanks for doing it so much!). No one called me a complainer or told me to “just” do this or that and everything would be wonderful again. But even before I looked at the comments, immediately after I put up the post, my mood lifted. Things didn’t seem as overwhelming as they had an hour earlier.

It’s interesting how God specifically places power inside weakness. I don’t like being vulnerable, but when God is pressing on me, leading me to open up about something, it always works out best when I do it.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

There’s nothing like a visit from my mom and sisters to make everything seem better. My only complaint is that they left too soon…

How could you not love kids this cute? Micah’s big, toothless grins definitely make up for some of my feeding-every-few-hours-at-night exhaustion. And Sky’s excitement over just about everything in life makes up for some of the stress her temper tantrums cause. But it still hasn’t been an easy week.

Near the end of my pregnancy, I started to get nervous about dealing with the baby blues. I went through a bit of depression right after I had Sky and wondered if it would happen again, only more so because of my dad’s death, Jill’s death, and the extra work of having two kids instead of just one. But Micah’s birth was wonderful and just a week and a half later, my mom and sisters arrived. I was tired, but relieved and thankful to have two healthy children and my family here with me.

Now though, as Micah closes in on two months, I’ve noticed myself feeling a bit weary, as if the adrenaline I ran on for the first six weeks of his life has worn off, leaving me tired and spent. It’s awful to feel down when your life overflows with blessings, so I’m doing my best to live gratefully the way I know God wants me to. I believe there are times when my emotions aren’t trustworthy and this seems to be one of those times. Exhaustion tends to cloud my thoughts, especially when it lasts for weeks.

As I write this, I’m hearing the words of many mothers a little ahead of me on the path saying, “This too shall pass,” and I know it will. I’ll start to get more sleep and things will naturally look brighter. I feel guilty even admitting to the baby blues after everything God’s given me. But there’s no point to this blog if I’m not being honest, so I thought I’d share with you what’s happening in my head today, even as I know things will get better tomorrow.

Meeting up with my mom and sisters was definitely the highlight of my weekend. They stopped in Ocala for dinner on their way down to Sanibel Island for a week of sunshine with my aunt, uncle and cousins. They plan to stay at our house for a few days on their way home, but I was excited to see them now too, even though it was just for a quick hour at Panera.

I especially wanted to see my mom. Last Friday she took a horrible fall off her bike after her dog, Jack, got spooked by a squirrel and ran top speed into her front wheel (you can read the full story on her blog, Getting Through This). Though she managed to escape major damage, half of her face and her left eye are now an unnatural combination of red and purple. She’d told me over the phone she didn’t feel that bad, but I didn’t believe her since she rarely complains about anything.

When Sky first saw my mom yesterday she studied her carefully and then solemnly said, “Midgee owie,” several times before chattering away as usual. But I felt like crying. Why did this have to happen to my mom? Hasn’t she dealt with enough recently? My dad’s death was less than five months ago. It seems to me that my family doesn’t need another reminder that life is fragile.

But later that night when I said those very words to Adam, he responded, “You know, as hard as it is, I only benefit from being reminded of how fragile we are.” And as I thought about it, I realized he’s right. I would never welcome pain into my life or the lives of the people I love. But when I’m forced to acknowledge just how delicate we really are, it’s more difficult for me to take others for granted. I’m less casual with my words, more motivated to serve, and more willing to pay attention and listen carefully. Like Adam said, I benefit every time I’m reminded to be less self-centered.

I just wish I’d been reminded differently and that my mom didn’t have to suffer such an awful fall.

Whenever I sit down with the breast pump, Sky immediately comes running over with her arms stretched out. “Skylar pumping! Skylar pumping!” she says, wanting a turn for herself. So when I’m finished I hand it over.

Life as a mom is sometimes stressful. I’m thankful for any chance I get to laugh during the day and grateful Sky gives me plenty of opportunities.