Ive been missing this journal space lately. Newborn life and it’s ever revolving demands don’t exactly allow for a whole lot of quiet and thoughtful pondering. And let’s be real, if I’ve got time for quiet and thoughtful anything, I’m probably sleeping... because being the sole source of nutrition and comfort for a tiny human is exhausting, though rewarding, and leaves little in the way of me time. Especially since little man isn’t an only child and his big sister saw her entire world turn completely upside down in mid-March. I guess the point is that newborns are hard. And in some ways that’s a really good thing. But in others, it just means we are all surviving around here.
Harry Beau is 6 weeks old today {yesterday}. It’s been a long and trying 6 weeks, too. Not entirely because he’s a hard baby - though that is definitely one of the adjectives I’d use to describe him - but a lot because of what is going on around us. The early weeks of welcoming a baby into your home require so much support. Support that, because of a virus we know little to nothing about, we have not been able to take full advantage of. It’s just the 4 of us, most of the time. Phone calls from family and friends aren’t the same as quiet chats while baby snuggles on my chest and big sister plays with friends. Zoom play dates aren’t the same as preschool in person. Even the outings we expected to be able to take, like playgrounds and zoo trips, have been basically off limits. Covid19, you are quite the beast. 2020, you will go down as one of the worst: Harry excepting.
Even as I type this out, I can hear the sweet little grunts that mean cries are imminent and this quiet moment will be interrupted and picked up eventually. It hasn’t been all bad either, just full. I have been immensely thankful for the distraction of having a newborn. For not really having time to sink deep into the grief of not having our George here with us. I know that there are going to be moments when his absence is unavoidably obvious and the grief can’t be avoided by distraction. I even survived Mother’s Day without too much sorrow hanging over me. Instead, I got to enjoy my kiddos. Plural. And that was pretty amazing. And then, on the very next day, Adam and I had to take one of Audreys very favorite toys away. Parenting. It’s euphoric at times and then in an instant you’re drying up in a desert with no road map or manual on how to navigate the situation. I think for every minute of sleep, I spend two minutes in prayer or conversation with God. Lord lead me through this temper tantrum. Lord let me show as much grace to my kids as you show me. Lord let me show myself grace when I’m not perfect (ok, so always). Lord, let this moment be forever in my memory so that I am acutely and abundantly aware of the joy these kids bring me; Lord I take that back - these kids are monsters. Lord, you know what you’re doing, so it would be great if you filled me in.... Lord, I hope I’m not screwing them up too badly!
..........
As predicted, I’m picking this up over 24 hours later. Trying, slightly unsuccessfully, to place myself back into the mindset that triggered the start of this journal entry. It’s nearly bedtime and I’m closing down my brain for the day. All in all, I’m just thankful for the sweet life that God has added to our tribe. For the joy in the midst of sorrow. For the bright spot on the black blob that has been the start of this new decade. It’s been 6 weeks with little man and I can barely remember what life was like before he joined us. Praise the Lord for those kind of influences on life and details in our story. Happy 6 weeks, Harry Beau. We love you tons!
