It feels like there are ten thousand words inside of me dying to get out. And there has been little time or rest or quietness to capture any of them. The writer and deep feeler that I am is aching for solitude and I wonder how many more minutes I have left before Todd gets back from the store and Jacob wakes up ready to eat. It feels selfish to want for that when a week from now, he will be gone again, and before I know it, our newborn son will be big and grown and these tiny baby moments will have flitted away.
Looking back on the end of my pregnancy and on Jacob's birthday, I feel only filled with gratitude and awe. Seeing where God answered every single one of my prayers - how He heard me and showed up and was with me in all that I was fearing could happen. How He granted me the biggest desire of my heart and allowed Todd to arrive moments before Jake was delivered. These are the times I wonder why I ever doubt Him or His goodness. And I know that I will doubt again - and here I have yet another extravagant piece in my story to point to of where God is God. Where He went before me and stood behind.
Our house feels like chaos. Between bottles and formula and laundry and keeping track of whose dish belongs to who (because our friends rock and are keeping us well fed) - and then of course ten different projects all started and some finished as we begin to prepare to put our house on the market. As I step over tools and Home Depot bags, reality is beginning to sink in that this is really happening. That we are drastically changing our lives and that the big move is really coming.
I keep wondering if North Dakota will ever feel like home. If I will ever get used to the snow. If missing my family and my friends and community here will be too much for me and send me into another round of depression. I wonder if I'm really strong enough to feel it and grieve the losses and hope for more in this new place - to live well in the midst of all that is changing. All of this is starting to feel BIG.
Jacob is precious and sweet and when he wraps all five fingers around one of my own I melt and want to cry because his little life is such a gift and I feel so humbled at all of it. He is tiny and fragile and newborn clothes fit him just right. Every coo, every sneeze and sweet sigh - I find myself trying to memorize it all. I want to soak in all of the new baby feelings and sounds and smells because it goes by so quickly.
I hear a three year old calling my name, needing some of my attention. Jake is stirring in his bassinet begging me to hold him close again. And Todd is grilling some steaks on our firepit for dinner.
Moments to enjoy and to savor - and to write about later.