6 weeks

I went to the doctor on Thursday.  Caught the nurse's eye as I sat down in the waiting room and watched her face light up in recognition.  They hadn't seen me in a while.

The last time I was there I was 39 weeks pregnant.  Skin itching and feet swollen and Judah curled up in a ball, kicking and squirming, inside of me.

He is kicking and squirming in his sleep right now.  Laying next to me on the couch.  I watch him move and recognize the movements.  I look at his long arms and legs and large feet and hands and understand just now, the movements I felt then.

I weighed in.  Walked to an exam room and waited.  The minutes ticked by and Judah lay sleeping in his car seat and I just wondered at it all.

And I had a flashback, ever so quickly.  Of a rainy Thursday in January.  I cannot believe it is over, I thought to myself.  I remember thinking I couldn't do this.  I remember wondering how I would make it.  I remember little things about that day so vividly it might as well have been yesterday.  Now here we are.

The two of us.

We did it, I think quietly to myself, as the door opens and my dr comes in.  The last time I saw her it was all a blur...  but I feel like I've lived so much of a lifetime since then.  "How are you doing?" She asked in her knowing, simple way.  "You two getting along alright?"

I laughed at the phrase and Judah wrinkled his nose and I just nodded.  "Getting along just fine", I said, as if he wasn't my most favorite person in the world.

~

I was reminded just last week about how things change.

It was an ill-timed contact.  Just checking in, but at the worst of moments.  I had to dig deep to remember, recall, all that I once felt about it.  But it was there as part of my foundation.  A necessary and very important part of stability I'd really rather never look at again.  But in it all, I heard Him say, "you thought you knew then.  And now?  Look where we are now.  You think you know now?  Just wait."

I am trying to build all over again.  Trying so hard to find and create beauty.  I feel the need on the inside manifested in the most creatively frustrating ways on the outside.  A need for order, for art.  I am drawn to colors and textures and am more brave... I want to try and I want to make and this is all a reflection of the condition of my soul.

Because on the inside I am needing both order and artistic chaos.  I want to make something of all of this, all of this which so long goes unseen.

~

So we keep going.

The newness of it all is wearing off.  Others are forgetting, we are falling into routine.  I sleep more than most new moms, I am so thankful for my sweet boy's temperament.  

I realized tonight, though, after a weekend of work and paper writing, that three weeks was not enough time to recuperate.  I suppose I would have been waiting a lifetime in order to recover from the year I have had -- I am not sure one ever bounces back from something like that.  But I am tired.  Tired of running full force, of wearing four different hats, tired of talking myself into finishing one more assignment.

Tomorrow, daycare starts.  I can't shake the feeling that starting tomorrow I am going to miss most of his life.  Little Judah.  My baby.  What I wouldn't give to be able to do what my sister is doing.  Some would say, the right way. 

But they also say comparison is the thief of joy.  And I am trying desperately to find the joy in the days to come... reminding myself babies go to daycare every day.  Children, beautiful healthy well-adjusted socialized creative loved and loving children, go to daycare every day.

And I am not a bad mom for sending him.

But I sure am going to miss afternoon naps.  And I hope the woman taking care of him knows well enough to not tell me if I miss something important... something I should have been there to see.

~