Rocking, swaying, breathing deep, counting, feeling his strong hands rubbing my back. Hearing his encouraging words supporting me as I concur this beautifully painful blessing of bringing life into the world. I know I can do this. It’s the second time I have put my body through this in the last 16 months. I feel in control. I feel like an old pro. I am afraid only for my child’s safety. I was afraid she would never come out. But 9 days past her due date she came to see me face to face. Her older brother looked like a grown boy holding her for the first time. My baby holding my baby.
Holding my little baby tight rocking back and forth singing a song I only know half the lyrics to all while trying to get my groggy eyes to adjust to the bright light of my cell phone as I sneak a peak at the time. As soon as the cell phone screen dims my eyes thank me but I sit there trying to remember what time it was that I saw. Calculating how many hours it will be until my toddler is awake.
Waking up for the first time after a full nights rest and my two sweet babies are still sleeping. So much joy and hope for the day. I am going to have a shower. I am going to make a pot of coffee and read my bible, maybe even have my breakfast all to myself. I am so blessed to have such wonderful children who sleep. So quickly I forget all the time I spent sleeping training and only getting 2 hours of sleep a night for a few weeks. Standing in the door way wondering if I should just give in and nurse her one more time just so I can get some sleep. All this is just a distant memory wiped a way and made wonderful because of one full night of uninturpted sleep. As I step foot in the shower I hear two screaming kids come running into the bathroom fully naked and ready to join their mom. Dream shattered and sleeping husband gets a dirty sock thrown in his peaceful face.
I look myself face to face in the mirror. I can do this. I did it before. I am ready to dive in. I have a mountain of clean sheets, 30 pairs of underwear, 50 juice boxes and a new bag of Costco chocolate chips. Potty training. Round 2. This should be easier. It took my son 6 months for me to stop dreaming about it and asking him every 5 minutes if he needed the potty. I am ready to get my daughter trained too. I can do this. The diaper less future seems so much closer. I have this! I am ready to wake up all night and change sheets, I am prepared for dreading playing dates and Sunday school and visiting in laws. I ready to be judged and given unwanted advice. I can do this!
We can do thi, yet again. Walking into the gym filled with toddlers and their parents. I think this is my 8th class. 3 swimming versions, 2 rubble tots and 3 soccer classes. Yup, I can pretty much teach this parent tot class. Maybe I should. I feel like an old pro as I answer the parents question next to me. Obviously new to this world, I instruct her to take her child’s socks off . This is the last parent tot class I promise myself. Yes it is so wonderful getting to enjoy these memories but I long to be that mom sitting on the side with a magazine and a Carmel macchiato in hand. One day.
Today is the dreaded day. Standing outside his preschool classroom staring through the window watching him raise his hand during circle time and seeing his teacher laugh, now I am wondering what he said. I Bombard him with questions about his 2.5 hours away from me . Poor boy. As he is experiencing everything for the first time, so am I. We are both making our way through life holding tightly to each other as we conquer each age and stage. We are both learning daily to loosen the grip, one of us is more willing then the other.
No. That is my immidiate answer to the question if I will be sending my baby to preschool next year. These years a really too short. They can’t almost already be over for me, can they? Having two children close in age was crazy but also meant that I spend most of my days in a blur and now I am holding tight to every second. I am enjoying my alone time with my daughter as her brother is in school and I am loving my one on one with my son as his sister naps.
Leaving the house with no diaper bag, stroller, or carriers. Being gone all weekend with the love of my life and my children crying when their grandparents leave after being baby sat all weekend by them. No more sneaking out the door while daddy distracts them. Life is changing. “Me time” is not a foreign concept.
On the flip side my children are becoming less of an excuse to be anti social. I can’t blame my out of shape body on “baby weight”. That “baby ” is turning 3 in two months. I can’t blame my memory on sleep deprivation. Now it is just plain old age and disorganization that is causing me to act this way.
My baby is turning 3. Leaving the world of toddlers is freeing but also a little sad. Their sweet cuddles and kisses and chubby legs and large bellies. Their need to always be held at annoying times and their desperate attempts to wiggle free from your embrace at inappropriate times. These days will be missed but as I morn the loss of my crazy life I step forward into my life of new exhaustion. Endlessly answering questions from sun up until sun down. Being held accountable for your words matching your actions. Dealing with peers. School. Teachers, Class mates.
I started writing this post not really knowing where it was going. My main goal was to sort out all these emotions I have been feeling lately about my youngest turning 3. As we wait for our adoption process to move forward we continue with our life here. I live in a world of unknowns. I do not know if I will ever look into the eyes of another baby late at night in their pitch black nursery singing songs I don’t know all the lyrics to. I don’t know if I will potty train again. I don’t know what age my next children will come into my life at. It’s weird not knowing. It’s weird having all this time with my two children, making memories that my next children are not apart of yet. Yet they could already be waiting for us. Here we are making memories without them. Here we are having adventures and they are having their own alone, without my knowledge. This is every control freaks worst nightmare. Why am I called to adopt? There must be a lesson I am not learning.
I don’t spend my nights awake rocking babies these days. I spend my night laying in bed looking through the crack in our blinds at the moon praying for my other children. I pray that they are being protected and loved and cared for. I Pray they are strong and healthy and determined. I pray that they have someone who is kissing their scratches and bruises and holding them until they are ready to get down. I pray they are learning to love and trust. I fall asleep praying and wake up praying. So much out of my control and yet so much I am in control of. Paper work, readings, research and praying.
Being a mom is really all about balancing play and prayer. Being a mom is about preparing and prepping. I am learning to be a mom in a whole bunch of situations. When you think of our family please do not just think about the 4 of us. Think about the 6 of us. The 6 of us have not even all met yet. The 6 of us are already a family. I have never loved so strongly yet been so uncertain of everything. The only way I will make it through this is by Gods strength. Thank you for reading my ramblings. Thank you for praying. Thank you from all 6 of us.
-lioness and the pieces of my heart.