ONE YEAR WITH TWO BABY BOYS.
At the end of most days, when I would typically come here to pour out or be creative, my ability to give anything further doesn’t exist. I often compare my season of life to a wet wash cloth that’s been rung out all day long – pulled on and tugged at, bending at every knead. And as that washcloth unfolds, every layer is full of full of so much give. Every emotion I have, every need I can possibly meet, poured onto the ones around me. It starts with three babies whom I adore and ends with the ones I hold close and do life with. Motherhood is the most fulfilling role in the world, that somehow drains you at the same time. Somewhere in between the ‘you took a lot out of me, but you have all of me.’ However, I couldn’t close my eyes tonight without acknowledging this moment and making the time for what feels cathartic: to process it in black and white. The last year deserves a place here.
On this exact night, one year ago, I cried harder than I’ve ever cried in my life. I rocked Linen to sleep, our last night as a family of three, grieving the end of a chapter that felt like it had only just begun. I’ve never swallowed change well, but throughout my entire pregnancy, I was longing for a peace that never seemed to overwhelm my spirit. I’m an intuitive, decisive person – if I feel something, you know it because I’m so sure of it. If I love someone, I tell them. If I’m uneasy, I can’t pretend my way through it. The only thing I knew how to do well – was sit in it. Feel the highs, feel the lows, and just pray that when their little heads hit my chest for the first time, it would all make sense. And thank the Lord, it did. Those two, tiny, five pound babies changed everything in the best way. That peace I’d longed for and chased after, slowly covered every part of me, inside and out.
Those early days felt familiar, yet imperfect. For every moment we felt lost, grace overwhelmed us with feeling more found than ever before. Each and every day has been messy and magical. Honest and heart wrenching. Vulnerable in one breath, capable in the next. An all-consuming love that has pulled every ounce of strength from our bodies and given us immense purpose. The truth is, growing them was just the beginning of growing who we were made to be for them.
Stable & Port – you made me exactly who I’m supposed to be. You’ve softened my heart and solidified my boundaries. You’ve reminded me of my strength when I felt like I had nothing left to give and you’ve given me grace while I learned how to be a mama to two babies at once. You always found a way to give me little gifts when I needed them most. Two big smiles after a nap, catching your little eyes watching me from across the room, and holding on to me when in actuality, it was me who didn’t want to let go. I promise to always hold on just as tight to you. Promise to always surround you with people who love like we love. I promise to always celebrate the good and walk through any and every hard. You completed our family in the most beautiful way and I am so proud to be your mama. One year in and always.
I told myself this the other day – ‘If all you did today was love people well, well then that’s enough.’ It resonated with me so much because genuine love cannot be quantified. It doesn’t reside under a place of condition and it certainly isn’t to be compared. So thankful for the privilege to raise them, shape their little hearts, and do it all with the people we love most. Here’s to a milestone, entering a new season with equal amounts of angst and excitement, and forever trying to balance the holding on and letting go of motherhood.
These are the days, my loves and I’m soaking up every single moment with you. Happy First Birthday, my Stabie Baby + Porty Port Port.
- Your Mama