Is it bad that I'm sitting outside in my beautiful back yard staring at a laptop, haha! For someone who thinks of herself as pretty easily unplugged, this is pathetic.
What is bringing me here today, what brings me back to words, to the deep need to communicate with the written word and therefore find understanding. Is it that I think more slowly, more methodically when I write. Perhaps it's that in order to write I need to step away from noise, from sweet boys (albeit loud!). Perhaps it's that I come to writing usually in a pensive mood already.
One month and a day ago, at this time, I was at home in pain. A growing pain, waves coming and going, and with each one becoming more intense and breathtaking. The pain quickened, condensed, and came to fruition in the birth of my daughter, my lovely daughter, crying loud, strong from the first moment. Tears and shared looks with my husband of incredulity, a girl! After three lusty, fabulous boys, we had assumed that our family would be a little herd of masculinity, but now breaking into that assumption was this little squirming darling who would change the color of our household forever. Thank you Lord for this gift!
Now, the dramatic next few moments...turn her over, spina bifida, husband walks in the hallway to dial 911, bandaging, swirls of activity, paramedics, husband gone, baby gone.
The eternal hour before I could leave to join my little one at the hospital, my bags being packed for me, my brain wasn't working, I just wanted to be with my baby. Finally there, breathing now that I can see her. Friends coming by to pray to encourage to rejoice. Another kiss and goodbye, paramedics, gentle giants to fly with baby to the children's hospital. Daddy goes along in the leer jet. I drive slowly with my mom, sleep on the way, I just want to see her.
Met with check ins, rules, gowns, nurses, and my darling...so dwarfed by everything in her little hospital bed.
I'm a month past now. I am past the surgery, the iv's, the red angry incision, the aching to hold, the worries about bonding and nursing, the guilt of being away from my boys for 9 days. We are home and grateful and in love with the sweet princess of the house.
But there is much to process, much to understand, much to uncover. My emotions so often dive deep, afraid of their own strength, afraid that there are no easy answers. I suppose it's my way of finding peace, a high commodity to my personality. It's my counterfeit. It's the shortcut. But in the truth that God is the only giver and source of peace, I come now to process. To write. To unearth some emotion, to lay it bare and ask for the Lord's thoughts, his messages, to solidify what He has been teaching over the last month and to connect with what He is teaching me today. Thank you, Jesus for being present with me in this cloudy, tree ringed backyard, with laptop on lap.
