We've been frantically working on house projects as we get ready to put our home on the market this week. Wyatt's been a trooper, making several trips to Miner's Hardware and being careful not to roll into the freshly painted baseboards. At the end of the day yesterday, I found him like this. When I walked around to take his picture, he didn't lift his head and only barely followed me with his tired eyes. I'm struck by what a sweet boy he is. When I'm tired, Garett could only wish that I'd quietly lay my head down and not make a peep. I'm more likely to be cranky, extra critical and a bit more dramatic than usual. Maybe I can learn something from my sweet son?
I haven't posted much the past few months because I don't think I have much to say. Sometimes it seems like I'm supposed to only be cheery and sunny on this blog (or at least moderately funny) and that has not been my experience the past few months. We're in transition mode around here and that has taken a toll.
My body has been screaming at me to stop nursing Wyatt and I'm finally listening. Weaning is going well and I'm beginning to feel slightly more like myself. Wyatt's gained about three pounds in just a few weeks so it's pretty clear that he needed more food than I was able to give him. His weight gain makes me smile although now he's in need of a new wardrobe. I'm surprised how compulsively I feel the need to explain why I'm not nursing him, like I somehow owe it to the world to justify this decision but at least I'm noticing that and choosing to believe that nursing my son does not define me or predict my success as a mother or Wyatt's future brilliance.
We've decided to sell our house in an effort to lower our expenses and feel less pressure in general. It's mostly my pride that's taking a hit but I can't wait to be able to call a landlord when something breaks/explodes/leaks and not be required to pay to fix it. Unsure of where we'll unpack, I'm pouring over our local craigslist wondering if a clean, 2 bedroom home with reasonable rent and the option to have a dog will present itself at just the right moment.
More uncertainty stems from the reality that both Garett and I have chronic health issues that tend to rear their unfortunate heads during inopportune times. This time it's Garett not me which, surprisingly, tends to increase my anxiety about our future more than when it's my own body going through the exacerbation. Garett is quite possibly the most courageous man I know and I can only hope to learn to walk through life as gracefully as he does.
Too much information? Probably. But is life only meant to be shared when its rosy? In the thick of it, sometimes I answer that question with a resounding yes, leaning more towards isolation than connectedness. But I believe that community is a big part of what God uses to give us hope of something more. I believe in God, a God that is all love, all grace, all good and a source of freedom, hope and even purpose in life's challenges. I find God meets me right in these moments and reminds of what is true rather that what is not.
And, in the midst of chaos, beauty appears even more glorious than before.
A kind friend willing to openly share her postpartum experience and empathize.