Things always seem to
look a lot different the next time around.
It doesn’t really matter what exactly it is you’re comparing-a movie you
watch more than once, a vacation you take, or your experience doing something. Parenting is no exception. You think you know what to expect because
you’ve been there, done that. Yeah, no,
it doesn’t really work like that.
I feel like a new mom
in so many ways. Five years is a long time to be “out of practice” when it
comes to a newborn. I got used to
leaving the house sans diaper bag, running out the door quickly and
efficiently. I forgot how sweaty a mama
can get trying to gather up all of the things and make it to the car-only to
forget about four different things and make four separate trips back inside.
I’m finding my rhythm but, man, I’d be lying if I didn’t say some days are
exhausting. And being responsible for
more than one tiny, unpredictable human at once is no joke. We’re making it work though-everyone is
starting to find their groove which, in our busy, life is important.
The last few weeks
have been full ones. Doctor appointments
for a baby that is growing like a weed, gymnastics, visits from the tooth fairy
for not one but TWO lost teeth, ran races (Sean and Kennedy-not me!) and
watched two badass mamas run a half marathon in the pouring rain! On top of that Sean's mom had unexpected open-heart surgery (six bypasses!) but luckily she took it like a champ and did incredibly well.
And then there was the
planning and preparing for the little man’s baptism. We’d decided to baptize him early from the
beginning. Not because I believe in the
idea of purgatory but because I figure if this baby boy could be watched over
and protected by even just a smidgen more than he already is, we wanted
it. So we’d started planning this while
I was still pregnant. I wanted it to be
perfect for so many reasons, the main one being that I needed this to be a
happy day. And it was: the party was at
my favorite restaurant with our favorite people, delicious food, and an amazing
cake (complete with his name misspelled that I-unknowingly- approved!).
But not matter how
many people made the trip to town and how great the party the day before was,
the next morning-even with the sun shining bright-there was a cloud hanging
over my head. The baptism day fell on
the 18th anniversary of my Papa passing away and also Pregnancy and Infant Loss
Awareness Day. As if that wasn’t enough,
I couldn't help but think that the last baptism I was present for was Jack’s and
it took place in a cold operating room, with me on my back desperately trying
not to lose sight of my baby boy that would be leaving me at any moment. And so I cried; hard. And I let myself sob while Sean just hugged
me. And then I put my makeup on, dressed
the two beautiful children I have with me here on earth and we made our way to
church to celebrate this enormous light we now have in our lives.
It was a perfectly
imperfect ceremony, complete with a crying baby that had an explosive poop
midway through mass, a sweaty mama that was caught giving dagger eyes on camera
taken by a five year old (seeing yourself through the eyes of a child is a
humbling experience folks!) but it was everything I needed. To be surrounded by our family and friends,
people that were so happy and relieved that we found ourselves here again, was
everything. This boy is so very loved.
After everyone said their goodbyes we tried to spread some kindness in memory of Jack Holden for Jack's Herd's second annual Random Acts of Kindness Day. We finished out the day at a candle light ceremony held by the Ohana Foundation and though I felt a sadness in my heart, I felt close to all three of my children.
Seven weeks have gone
by and there is so much good in my life.
I am so lucky to have an amazing tribe that checks in on us regularly to see how
we are doing. My baby sleeps pretty damn
good (making me feel bad for the us five years ago that were up every hour and
didn’t know any better to be upset about that) and he’s a pretty happy (save for thirty hellish minutes every night!), chubby
little guy. His sister loves him in a
fierce way that makes me fall in love with her even more in spite of her newly
super-charged kindergarten ‘tude. But
even with all that good stuff going on there is still many times where I find
myself staring down at this beautiful boy, almost unable to breathe and
wondering how on earth we ever survived having to give his big brother
back. How am I still here after
that? How did I hold that baby in my
arms and then give him back to a nurse, never to see him again? Even after having done it, it seems
unimaginable to me, especially when I hold this boy close to my heart and feel
his little chest rise and fall. And yet,
here we are- still here and moving forward.
Even broken hearts can heal.
And this picture
here? The smile on that girl’s face is
the kind of genuine smile that hasn’t shown up in a very long time, and trust me I've been looking for it. Looking at it breaks my heart a little
because I didn’t think I’d ever see her again but when I saw it the relief
washed over me; it’s proof that no matter how terrible a turn life can take,
and how bumpy and winding the road is, you will find joy again when you keep
moving down it; you'll find the smile.
