January 27th. That was my last post. How has it been over 3 months since then…I never understood what people meant when they said time flies by once you have children. Now I’m the one telling that to people. I don’t have any good reason for why I haven’t written. I’ve sat down a handful of times & thought “you should write”. But then I get distracted & never finish. But now we are in Emma’s birthday month & I’m hit with an overwhelming sadness for not documenting more regularly. I have taken to instagram to post about Emma, when really I have so much to say about her that doesn’t really fit over there.
I’ve been spending the last day going through old pictures & videos of E. I’ve also been crying like a crazy lady, but that’s beside the point. How are we two weeks away from her birthday? How has one whole year passed since that day. The day I became a mama. The day my heart just about busted at the seams & broke into a million pieces simultaneously? I keep telling Mike I’m in denial that she’ll be one soon. I am having such a hard time wrapping my head around it.
I thought, during those first five weeks, that the first year would go on forever. That we would have this delicate little baby forever. And it didn’t. We don’t. She isn’t delicate anymore. She’s feisty. And vocal. And chatty. And beautiful. And amazing. And alllll the good things.
She’s also not crawling. Or walking. Or standing on her own. Or (this one I hate) holding her own bottle.
She is living out the term “going at her own pace”…. and part of me is really ok with that. I don’t mind the fact that I can set her down & leave the room & the most that will happen is she’ll be laying down instead of sitting up when I come back. But I also know that this girl needs to get moving. She wants to. So bad. She’s the definition of wiggle worm in our arms. She starts physical therapy this afternoon & I’m mildly terrified. Her orthopedics doctor said absolutely no pt when she got out of the harness in November. But her development doctor told us she is almost at a 4 month delay & would greatly benefit from physical therapy. How did Mike & I become the people responsible for making these decisions. A decision that could potentially do harm to her hips, yet help her gain some strength in her upper body.. A decision that seems smart & overwhelming at the same time.
(and yes, I know Emma’s hip journey hasn’t been shared yet & I promise it’s coming. haven’t really had motivation to revisit those first few days. it was gross in my heart then.)
It’s funny how Christ steps in & shows us the way. Ok it’s not funny. It’s amazing. I’m not the same person I was May 20th 2013. Emma’s birth changed me. It stirred something in my heart. The days of frustration and anger and fear I felt worked into something good. I feel strong. I feel encouraged. I feel protected now. The depth of that valley holds nothing to the height of the mountain. E’s smile & giggle & the way she holds onto a piece of my hair when she’s tired. When she smiles at me two seconds after I tell her no. I see His face everywhere. All of His grace floods me when I get that girl up every morning. All of His love consumes me when she’s fighting her nap & just wants to be held. I think about how often I’ve ran from Him this past year & fought the rest He offered. How easy it is to overlook the things & people He places in our path.
And now as we approach the anniversary of a season in my life that completely shook me, I’m feeling discomfort. It’s not entirely bad. It’s almost like I can feel Him moving again. I feel unsettled. Like there’s something big He’s about to teach me. And that’s a good thing. A great thing really. I want to take this month to reflect on what happened last year. To remember how He carried me. and Emma. and Mike the entire time. How I can look back, on the other side of it, and feel confident that Emma’s struggles were not for nothing. There was purpose. There was reason. There was hope. How an entire church family came behind us & supported us. Prayed for us. Gave to us. How Christ used a tiny little infant to teach people faith. To teach people dependency on Him. How the nurses saw a mom & dad who were at their babies bedside every. single. day. With heads bowed & tears streaming. And visitors coming. And laying their hands on E. And praying for God to do a mighty work. A healing work. A tremendous work on our little girl.
And He did. He still is.
I do have intentions of blogging more regularly. I miss it. And I have so much to share.