Last night, I traded off between nursing a newborn and nursing a headache. The baby (and my husband) slept amazingly well; I barely slept at all. My head pounded in a way that made me want to revisit labor all over again. Once I’d used all of the meds and the peppermint oil and the heating pad to no avail, I got up and took a bath. Afterward, I crawled back into bed and tried to ignore the throbbing in my head. I cuddled up to a sleeping Hadassah Lee and waited for morning, feeling discouraged and defeated. It was at that moment I felt it. Strong and unmistakable, my daughter’s heartbeat against mine.
I reminded myself at that moment that the sun would come up. The animals would come marching two by two down the stairs, anxious to play with each other and eat their breakfast. The headache would fade (or not), and our lives would go on.
There has never been a more chaotic season in my life, yet never a more peaceful one. Each time someone raises an eyebrow at our Brady Bunch or asks how we do it, I want to shout it from the rooftops – it just gets easier and easier, y’all.
There is more love to go around.
There is more patience to pour on each head.
There is more joy at each small moment.
Like a heart pounding through a tiny chest…
reminding me who I am and where I belong, and what really matters.