when the 8:00 - 5:00 turns into 24/7...
It's hard to understand parenthood until you're in it. You can plan and prepare and think ahead, but until that baby is laid in your arms, you really have no idea. At least, I didn't. I knew it would be a lot of work. I knew it would be hard. I knew I would have to be flexible and willing to bend. What I didn't know is that I'd have to completely sacrifice every part of my life in order to help Annabeth live hers.
After spending almost a week in the hospital, we finally made it home. Thankfully, we were running on adrenaline and Annabeth was still enjoying that new baby lethargic stage. I'll never forget the first time my parents tried to buy a puppy for my brother and me. We were at the mall and as we walked past the pet store, we saw this precious little white fur ball that needed a home. We begged my mom to let us get the dog, and she gave in. The sweet little creature was so calm and snuggly. It slept the whole way home and throughout the entire evening, but the next morning when we woke up, that fur ball was a different dog. She was biting toes, barking, running through the house, and the love we felt for her the day before was immediately replaced by fear. We were so scared of that dog (sad, I know) that my mom eventually had to take it back to the pet store. I learned that many pet stores give their puppies some sort of "chill pill" so that they are sweet and calm while for sale. When that wears off, puppy mode commences. I'm pretty certain the same goes for newborns. Those first few sleepy days trick you into thinking you must have this parent thing down and that it's pretty easy. Give it a week, and the delirious version of yourself at 3:00AM comes to realize that you have no idea what you're doing.
I am convinced that God gives parents incredible amounts of compassion, grace, and energy to survive parenthood. It's like starting a new job except you don't get to go home at the end of the day and leave your work at work. There is no such thing as quitting time. Your boss doesn't care if you get any sleep, if you eat, or if you take a shower, so it's a good thing your boss is adorable a smells delicious. And since your boss is also new to the gig, you're getting no feedback. Nope, you're having to figure it out as you go because you're the one paving the way and you just hope you're doing it well.
This is a new phase for us. A new learning experience like one I've never had before. And although I've been through seasons of great change before, this one takes the cake. My life is no longer the life I knew. It has been turned upside down and every direction and there are moments when I feel like "normal" will never return. It will, but it will be a new normal. And so I try to give myself permission to be okay with that. To let go of my Type-A ways and embrace this hectic time with my sweet girl who will only be this little for a little while. One day, her five pound body won't fit perfectly into my arms. I won't be able to scoop her little self out of the cradle when she's crying and lay her on my chest to calm her down. I won't get to stare at her tiny little milk-laced lips in the dark hours of night as I listen to her breathe and study her precious face. Her tiny hands will eventually be the same size as mine and I know I'll miss the days when I no longer to get to rub her soft cheeks with the back of my finger as I do my best to meet her every need. One day, 24/7 will turn back to 8:00 - 5:00 and I know I'll miss these days that won't last forever.
And so each day I ask the Lord for help. At midnight, at 3:00AM, at 6:00AM, and the hours thereafter. I ask that He would give me such a love for my child that it would be greater the exhaustion that I'm learning to manage. That He would supply me with strength because I certainly need it. That He would give me great joy when cabin fever starts to set in and I feel overwhelmed by the lack of normalcy I crave. Because whether I am standing in the shower fighting back tears due to clogged milk ducts and the confusing science of breastfeeding, or whether I am forcing down breakfast because I have completely lost my appetite and am not sure where to find it, I am reminded that "the God who takes care of me will supply ALL of my needs from his glorious riches." (Philippians 4: 19) That He will take care of us. Of every detail. Every breath. Of me. Of Annabeth. Of our family. I don't have to do it on my own. I just have to do my part and trust Him with the rest. He will come through. He always does.
After spending almost a week in the hospital, we finally made it home. Thankfully, we were running on adrenaline and Annabeth was still enjoying that new baby lethargic stage. I'll never forget the first time my parents tried to buy a puppy for my brother and me. We were at the mall and as we walked past the pet store, we saw this precious little white fur ball that needed a home. We begged my mom to let us get the dog, and she gave in. The sweet little creature was so calm and snuggly. It slept the whole way home and throughout the entire evening, but the next morning when we woke up, that fur ball was a different dog. She was biting toes, barking, running through the house, and the love we felt for her the day before was immediately replaced by fear. We were so scared of that dog (sad, I know) that my mom eventually had to take it back to the pet store. I learned that many pet stores give their puppies some sort of "chill pill" so that they are sweet and calm while for sale. When that wears off, puppy mode commences. I'm pretty certain the same goes for newborns. Those first few sleepy days trick you into thinking you must have this parent thing down and that it's pretty easy. Give it a week, and the delirious version of yourself at 3:00AM comes to realize that you have no idea what you're doing.
I am convinced that God gives parents incredible amounts of compassion, grace, and energy to survive parenthood. It's like starting a new job except you don't get to go home at the end of the day and leave your work at work. There is no such thing as quitting time. Your boss doesn't care if you get any sleep, if you eat, or if you take a shower, so it's a good thing your boss is adorable a smells delicious. And since your boss is also new to the gig, you're getting no feedback. Nope, you're having to figure it out as you go because you're the one paving the way and you just hope you're doing it well.
This is a new phase for us. A new learning experience like one I've never had before. And although I've been through seasons of great change before, this one takes the cake. My life is no longer the life I knew. It has been turned upside down and every direction and there are moments when I feel like "normal" will never return. It will, but it will be a new normal. And so I try to give myself permission to be okay with that. To let go of my Type-A ways and embrace this hectic time with my sweet girl who will only be this little for a little while. One day, her five pound body won't fit perfectly into my arms. I won't be able to scoop her little self out of the cradle when she's crying and lay her on my chest to calm her down. I won't get to stare at her tiny little milk-laced lips in the dark hours of night as I listen to her breathe and study her precious face. Her tiny hands will eventually be the same size as mine and I know I'll miss the days when I no longer to get to rub her soft cheeks with the back of my finger as I do my best to meet her every need. One day, 24/7 will turn back to 8:00 - 5:00 and I know I'll miss these days that won't last forever.
And so each day I ask the Lord for help. At midnight, at 3:00AM, at 6:00AM, and the hours thereafter. I ask that He would give me such a love for my child that it would be greater the exhaustion that I'm learning to manage. That He would supply me with strength because I certainly need it. That He would give me great joy when cabin fever starts to set in and I feel overwhelmed by the lack of normalcy I crave. Because whether I am standing in the shower fighting back tears due to clogged milk ducts and the confusing science of breastfeeding, or whether I am forcing down breakfast because I have completely lost my appetite and am not sure where to find it, I am reminded that "the God who takes care of me will supply ALL of my needs from his glorious riches." (Philippians 4: 19) That He will take care of us. Of every detail. Every breath. Of me. Of Annabeth. Of our family. I don't have to do it on my own. I just have to do my part and trust Him with the rest. He will come through. He always does.
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