A Heart So Full
This week has been hard. HARD. Hard in a way that makes you want to wave a white flag and surrender. I'm not sure to whom I'd have surrendered, but I just wanted to let someone know that I give up. Hard in a way that makes me want to hand in my name badge and keys, because I don't want to do this anymore.
Every time we thought someone was over the crud, it would come back. With a vengeance. Over these past 8+ days, I'd say we've spent 65-75% of it in the bathroom, either being sick ourselves or cleaning up after the kids.
Yesterday I took my frustration with this virus out on the kitchen floor. I even used bleach to mop it. And I never use bleach in the kitchen. I also Lyesoled (What? You didn't know it was a verb?) every single surface in our house. I don't know if it worked, but no one's gotten sick in the past 24 hours. (Knocking on wood!)
All of that to say, that while it was a hard week, one that I don't care to repeat any time soon, it made me realize how very much I love my life.
I was laying Ashlynn down for a nap, rocking back and forth on my heels, running my fingers through her growing curls, and feeling her body get more relaxed. I laid her down and stroked her face a little when a feeling of overwhelming joy and peace filled my body.
I stared down at this precious girl, an amazing gift, and realized she has never known another caretaker in her life. The realization almost brought me to my knees.
All of my others had been cared for by my sisters and mom. And while I'm eternally thankful for that and for them, none of the older three had ever known me as a sole provider. Something I'd mourned each time my maternity leave came to an end. But not Ashlynn. She has had me since day one of her life.
I whispered a thank you to my God and went back into the living room where a sick Reagan wanted to be held. And it was during that time that another thought came to me.
This was one of the first times that Jon and I hadn't argued who needed to call in sick the next day. There was no guilty feeling. No guilt in feeling like I should be at work, no guilt in wishing I was home. I was exactly where I was needed.
I worked outside the home the first six years I was a mom. It was hard, in a different way. But mostly, it was hard on my heart. I never knew how much I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom until they laid Devyn in my arms. The ache grew with the birth of each child. And I had no idea if that desire would ever be fulfilled. But He did. And I am all the more blessed because of it.
Yes, this week was hard. But I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for it. I'm grateful for the little insights I was given because they sustained me this week. I've waited a long time to be home with my babies, and every so often, I need to be reminded of that.