I just keep thinking about the baby heart monitor strapped to my belly in the hospital. I was only wearing one for a short time this visit, but weeks ago I stayed three days listening to the constant sound of Joel's heart. This time if I listened closely I could hear the monitor in the patients room next to mine. Tiny thumps repeating through the wall. It made me smile, made me feel so overly joyous.
He's here now. Now I can feel that heart outside my body, as he sleeps on my own chest. I count the beats. Steady. Determined. They match my own.
I imagined the mother next door, the new life waiting to reveal itself. And I am still awestruck by birth and creation and that we play a part. It all stands for something so much bigger than us, deeper than I can put into words.
Maybe I shouldn't write during the postpartum period. Maybe emotions will cloud my view. Despite the emotional roller coaster I had to ride to get here, this has been my easiest labor and birth. Even with all the fear pressing in, that he could have complications, he might need to stay in NICU and we would have to leave him. I just hoped so much and all the prayers from those around us carried me. And now he is here and he is ok. I feel like I cheated the system, like it's too good to be true. Life can be surprising like that and all my questions, all the "why's" and wondering to God in my quietest prayers still linger. Yet somehow I sense His fingerprints, His shadow, are all over this.
My neck hurts from looking down at him while he eats. This is all the past weeks have been. Eating, sleeping, resting, nursing our bodies and just looking at each other. It feels like reacquainting yourself with an old friend that you knew inside and out.
The brevity and frailness of it all is so much more palpable this time around. I know I will only have him a short time. This baby business flies by fast as does childhood with equal speed. Soon he will be off to school, off to play his favorite sport, off to prom and college. He will face adversity, taste success and defeat and discover himself more than once. He will face sickness and sadness. And I will be crushed that I don't have any control over the things life brings him but only remember holding his tiny fragile body, and the way he smelled, and how his fingers wrapped around mine and held tight.
I can hear cars driving by and people talking on the street as I sit and hold Joel on my bed. For them this is just another day, nothing special or out of the norm. For me I'm wondering how things will ever be normal again. But they will. I'm sure of it. I've been in the baby bubble before. The brief period for a mother where the world stops and it's only about this little life. Some call it the 4th trimester, but I'm wondering how long it really lasts. Maybe it's indefinite.
Part of me wants desperately to snap my fingers and jump right back into gear. Getting things done around the house, wearing actual clothes, handling spats between the kids, and cooking a meal or two. But I'm not quite ready, my energy is not quite there. So I'll call a friend or grandparent to entertain the rest of my babies and I'll lay down on the couch in the middle of my mess, holding Joel and we will just rest and wait. Wait until we catch up to the world. I'm in no hurry.
Thanks to any one reading this, for love and support, for prayers and encouragement.
With Love,
Jenna
