What's worse than having a baby with colic?
Having a baby with colic in addition to having a spunky 16 month old and a rambunctious 4 year old.
Silas' colic was probably more traumatic because I think being a first time mom is generally just traumatic. But, you know, when Silas was sleeping all day, I could pass out on the couch and catch some zzz's too.
Um, this is not the case with Viv. We were up until 3 am, and then the boys were up demanding breakfast at 7:30. Right now the boys are down for a nap, and Vivian is wide awake hiccuping away and staring at the ceiling fan.
And despite my best efforts to keep Vivian calm and quiet when she's pissed in the middle of the night and to weep silently myself once I hit my breaking point, my fiancé is not sleeping much more than I am. "We love you honey. Enjoy your bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived 14 hour work day." :(
Now, this is where I have to tell you that my mom is taking full advantage of my desperate exhaustion to spend time with one or more of her grandchildren every week.
Last Friday, she kept the two littles so I could take Silas to a birthday party. When I text to let her know I was headed to pick them up, she offered to keep them over night. Sold! I went home and played Mario Kart with Silas, Jimmy, and Jimmy's friend and then went to bed and slept all night. It was lovely.
This part of having a baby is rough - especially if you make the mistake of losing perspective and not allowing people to help you (because you're stubborn and bull-headed). So, I try very hard to remind myself that it isn't going to be like this for long, and then I never get to have this again. This time next year, she'll be running around being all independent and only needing me when she is sick or exhausted.
So, I have to remember to find joy in the newborness and accept help when it is offered. I know I will soon look back on this time and miss it desperately.
I have to leave you now...someone needs my attention!
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Thursday, February 20, 2014
How's it going be a mom of three?
I'm exhausted, so I'm sorry if this winds up making no sense.
So, it turns out that both of my boys are smitten with Vivian. It's as if their big brother and protector role was instinctively activated when she was born.
Gavin spends every moment he can find giving her kisses and speaking to her animatedly in gibberish. Silas does everything he can to help with both of his siblings.
This morning was my first time driving since her birth. It was my first preschool drop off with all three of them. Silas was very impressed when I "put him in charge" of holding Gavin's hand as we walked through the building to Silas' classroom.
Viv is somewhere between Silas and Gavin as newborns in the sleep department. Some nights we are up for 2-3 hours in the middle of the night. Other nights she wakes up only long enough to eat, burp, and have her diaper changed.
Even on the nights when she won't sleep, she is sweet about it. It isn't 2-3 hours of blood-curdling screaming like with Silas. Just some whimpering over the gas in her belly that we are trying to work out. Just wanting to be snuggled up against mom or dad's chest.
Her demeanor remains calm, sweet, and patient. She is easy to adore.
The stairs are magically not as horrendous a feat as they were while I was 6-9 months pregnant. So, making 50 trips a day up and down them is not as bad as I thought it would be.
I still haven't tackled target by myself with all three of them, but I have successfully tackled it with just the two little ones, so I think I can handle throwing in Silas walking next to the cart asking me to buy him all of the things. I think.
So far I don't feel like I'm screwing it up with the boys. Neither of them is acting out in a way that makes me believe they feel left out. Hopefully that remains true as time progresses.
Basically, what I'm saying is that right now, we seem to be a stronger little family than ever.
I'm off to debate on a nap or cleaning house now while the little ones are sleeping.
So, it turns out that both of my boys are smitten with Vivian. It's as if their big brother and protector role was instinctively activated when she was born.
Gavin spends every moment he can find giving her kisses and speaking to her animatedly in gibberish. Silas does everything he can to help with both of his siblings.
This morning was my first time driving since her birth. It was my first preschool drop off with all three of them. Silas was very impressed when I "put him in charge" of holding Gavin's hand as we walked through the building to Silas' classroom.
Viv is somewhere between Silas and Gavin as newborns in the sleep department. Some nights we are up for 2-3 hours in the middle of the night. Other nights she wakes up only long enough to eat, burp, and have her diaper changed.
Even on the nights when she won't sleep, she is sweet about it. It isn't 2-3 hours of blood-curdling screaming like with Silas. Just some whimpering over the gas in her belly that we are trying to work out. Just wanting to be snuggled up against mom or dad's chest.
Her demeanor remains calm, sweet, and patient. She is easy to adore.
The stairs are magically not as horrendous a feat as they were while I was 6-9 months pregnant. So, making 50 trips a day up and down them is not as bad as I thought it would be.
I still haven't tackled target by myself with all three of them, but I have successfully tackled it with just the two little ones, so I think I can handle throwing in Silas walking next to the cart asking me to buy him all of the things. I think.
So far I don't feel like I'm screwing it up with the boys. Neither of them is acting out in a way that makes me believe they feel left out. Hopefully that remains true as time progresses.
Basically, what I'm saying is that right now, we seem to be a stronger little family than ever.
I'm off to debate on a nap or cleaning house now while the little ones are sleeping.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Welcome Vivian
Thursday morning I lay in bed waiting for noise to come from the boys' bedroom. I had decided to let them sleep in and start the day when they felt like it.
Once they got up, I got them dressed and we headed out to the car. My plan was to drop Silas off at school and go do last minute pre-baby errands.
It was snowing but the news the day before had assured viewers that the snow should not cause any trouble on the roads. It took me about half a mile to determine that the news had lied.
I settled for a quick trip to Target and hanging out with the boys in our loft until Michael's mom came to pick them up for the weekend.
After that I began to clean and wander into Vivian's room to look at her tiny pink things and cry and have anxiety.
The snow prompted the decision to rent a room in Dallas in order to avoid treacherous roads at 4 am. A sleepover with Jimmy, me, my mom and my aunt.
But first, Jimmy and I decided to have a pre-baby celebration meal. We went on a little dinner date. It is one of the happiest meals I have ever had. The food was good, and I sincerely enjoyed having a celebratory meal with my favorite person.
I didn't sleep well that night. I was nervous, and someone in that room was snoring loudly...
I woke up anxious and emotional. I cried a lot, and Jimmy constantly hugged me and kissed the top of my head and reassured me.
My mom had come to the hospital early to hold my hand during my epidural because Jimmy wanted no part of it. And then we found out they were inserting the epidural in the OR. My mom was not allowed to go with me. So, it was Jimmy or no one.
He reluctantly agreed and sat on a stool in front of me. We put our foreheads together and held hands.
I didn't jump, and it was over. I looked at Jimmy and smiled and noticed he was white as a sheet. "You ok?" He nodded in a way that made me know he was lying. "Are you sure?" He looked like he was about to faint, and looked at the nurse and said, "I need water."
He was led from the room, and they went about prepping me for surgery. All too soon, I got the same
weird feeling I had gotten with Gavin. "Seriously?!" I piped up, and the anesthesiologist asked me a
couple of questions. I was waiting to hear "we hit an artery. We're going to have to do the epidural again." I wanted to scream. Instead, I heard, "ok, I can give you something for that." And he did, and I felt normal again shortly. All that was left to worry about was whether or not Jimmy would be back for the birth.
After not much longer, in walked my handsome fiancé in his scrubs looking much better than the last time I had seen him. He sat down next to my head, and grabbed my hands and kissed my forehead with tears in his eyes, "we're about to have our little girl!"
My doctor began surgery, and Jimmy and I grinned at each other and sang the songs that came on in the background and chatted nervously and said "I love you" 900 times. Suddenly, in the middle of us chattering, we both stopped short and cried simultaneously when we heard "waaaaaah!
Vivian was born! Jimmy went over to take pictures and came back to show them to me.
When they announced that Viv was 8lbs, 1 oz, I was really surprised.
After a bit, Jimmy brought her over, and I got to see her beautiful, chubby little face and kiss on her loooooong fingers. "She's perfect, see?!" Jimmy unwrapped her to show me her ten toes, and we spent the next hour staring at her and kissing her while they finished up tying my tubes. When it was over, my doctor told me that my decision not to have more kids was a good one. My body couldn't handle carrying another one.
After a couple hours in recovery, we were taken to our room, and Candice brought up the boys. Silas was very concerned about me being in the hospital and he was smitten with Vivian. Gavin didn't care much about Vivian until Candice picked her up, then he tried to pull her blanket out of Candice's hands. Uh oh....
I spent the rest of the weekend adjusting to being back on a newborn's schedule and having a girl.
Can I just say (and I hope I'm not jinxing myself) that she is so sweet and so easy going. The only thing that I have seen make her angry is being cold (she is her father's daughter). Even when she's hungry, she announces it quietly. She is so much different than my boys who roared into the world at full force and never slowed down.
Now Jimmy, Vivian and I are at home. She loves her swing (Gavin taught me that a good swing is worth the investment). The boys come home this evening, and we'll see how it goes.
I know we'll all get adjusted.
I have to say that it is a very neat feeling to know that my family is complete. This is it, and it so perfect.
Once they got up, I got them dressed and we headed out to the car. My plan was to drop Silas off at school and go do last minute pre-baby errands.
It was snowing but the news the day before had assured viewers that the snow should not cause any trouble on the roads. It took me about half a mile to determine that the news had lied.
I settled for a quick trip to Target and hanging out with the boys in our loft until Michael's mom came to pick them up for the weekend.
After that I began to clean and wander into Vivian's room to look at her tiny pink things and cry and have anxiety.
The snow prompted the decision to rent a room in Dallas in order to avoid treacherous roads at 4 am. A sleepover with Jimmy, me, my mom and my aunt.
But first, Jimmy and I decided to have a pre-baby celebration meal. We went on a little dinner date. It is one of the happiest meals I have ever had. The food was good, and I sincerely enjoyed having a celebratory meal with my favorite person.
I didn't sleep well that night. I was nervous, and someone in that room was snoring loudly...
I woke up anxious and emotional. I cried a lot, and Jimmy constantly hugged me and kissed the top of my head and reassured me.
My mom had come to the hospital early to hold my hand during my epidural because Jimmy wanted no part of it. And then we found out they were inserting the epidural in the OR. My mom was not allowed to go with me. So, it was Jimmy or no one.
He reluctantly agreed and sat on a stool in front of me. We put our foreheads together and held hands.
I didn't jump, and it was over. I looked at Jimmy and smiled and noticed he was white as a sheet. "You ok?" He nodded in a way that made me know he was lying. "Are you sure?" He looked like he was about to faint, and looked at the nurse and said, "I need water."
He was led from the room, and they went about prepping me for surgery. All too soon, I got the same
weird feeling I had gotten with Gavin. "Seriously?!" I piped up, and the anesthesiologist asked me a
couple of questions. I was waiting to hear "we hit an artery. We're going to have to do the epidural again." I wanted to scream. Instead, I heard, "ok, I can give you something for that." And he did, and I felt normal again shortly. All that was left to worry about was whether or not Jimmy would be back for the birth.
After not much longer, in walked my handsome fiancé in his scrubs looking much better than the last time I had seen him. He sat down next to my head, and grabbed my hands and kissed my forehead with tears in his eyes, "we're about to have our little girl!"
My doctor began surgery, and Jimmy and I grinned at each other and sang the songs that came on in the background and chatted nervously and said "I love you" 900 times. Suddenly, in the middle of us chattering, we both stopped short and cried simultaneously when we heard "waaaaaah!
Vivian was born! Jimmy went over to take pictures and came back to show them to me.
When they announced that Viv was 8lbs, 1 oz, I was really surprised.
After a bit, Jimmy brought her over, and I got to see her beautiful, chubby little face and kiss on her loooooong fingers. "She's perfect, see?!" Jimmy unwrapped her to show me her ten toes, and we spent the next hour staring at her and kissing her while they finished up tying my tubes. When it was over, my doctor told me that my decision not to have more kids was a good one. My body couldn't handle carrying another one.
After a couple hours in recovery, we were taken to our room, and Candice brought up the boys. Silas was very concerned about me being in the hospital and he was smitten with Vivian. Gavin didn't care much about Vivian until Candice picked her up, then he tried to pull her blanket out of Candice's hands. Uh oh....
I spent the rest of the weekend adjusting to being back on a newborn's schedule and having a girl.
Can I just say (and I hope I'm not jinxing myself) that she is so sweet and so easy going. The only thing that I have seen make her angry is being cold (she is her father's daughter). Even when she's hungry, she announces it quietly. She is so much different than my boys who roared into the world at full force and never slowed down.
Now Jimmy, Vivian and I are at home. She loves her swing (Gavin taught me that a good swing is worth the investment). The boys come home this evening, and we'll see how it goes.
I know we'll all get adjusted.
I have to say that it is a very neat feeling to know that my family is complete. This is it, and it so perfect.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Nine
Ahem, nine days.
Yes, I said NINE DAYS. That is a single digit number of days left, you guys.
In nine days, I will have three kids/my last kid/a daughter.
I'm far more nervous than I think I should be after having already done this three times. I'm more nervous about having Vivian than I was before I had Gavin and was facing the journey into being a single mom to two kids - one being a newborn the other being a super active three year old.
I didn't do this with the boys - maybe because they are boys, but I have spent a substantial amount of time reliving the day I went into labor with Anabel over the last week. That, I think, is what is causing the bulk of my nerves. The fear of something being wrong and her being taken from me.
I'm not trying to turn this into a sad, weepy, woe-is-me post. Just being honest. Also? I ask you guys to pray all the time, so you shouldn't be surprised that I'm calling on you again. I ask that you please pray for Vivian to be healthy and whole and to live a long, happy life.
I'm not sure how much more I'll be posting until she is born. I have a lot of stuff I have been procrastinating about (as I previously mentioned once or twice). So, I imagine I will be pretty busy for the next nine days.
If you don't hear from me until after baby day, I promise baby pictures in that post :)
Wish us luck!
Yes, I said NINE DAYS. That is a single digit number of days left, you guys.
In nine days, I will have three kids/my last kid/a daughter.
I'm far more nervous than I think I should be after having already done this three times. I'm more nervous about having Vivian than I was before I had Gavin and was facing the journey into being a single mom to two kids - one being a newborn the other being a super active three year old.
I didn't do this with the boys - maybe because they are boys, but I have spent a substantial amount of time reliving the day I went into labor with Anabel over the last week. That, I think, is what is causing the bulk of my nerves. The fear of something being wrong and her being taken from me.
I'm not trying to turn this into a sad, weepy, woe-is-me post. Just being honest. Also? I ask you guys to pray all the time, so you shouldn't be surprised that I'm calling on you again. I ask that you please pray for Vivian to be healthy and whole and to live a long, happy life.
I'm not sure how much more I'll be posting until she is born. I have a lot of stuff I have been procrastinating about (as I previously mentioned once or twice). So, I imagine I will be pretty busy for the next nine days.
If you don't hear from me until after baby day, I promise baby pictures in that post :)
Wish us luck!
Monday, January 27, 2014
Oops, I did it again
Oh y'all. I did it again.
I dragged someone to the hospital in the middle of the night for no reason.
I dragged someone to the hospital in the middle of the night for no reason.
False labor tricked me again. My contractions hurt so badly that I was in tears. So, even though I felt really dumb when they sent me home, I don't think I would have done anything differently had I been presented with the situation again. I must have looked as defeated as I felt when they told me they didn't think I was in labor because Jimmy told me over and over again, "please don't be upset. You are just being a good mom." Because (as I have mentioned) he is amazing.
So, trying to look at the bright side: now there is a bag packed. It took me over an hour to get it packed because I was refusing to let him do it, and I kept stopping to have contractions or look for things that I had walked past 40 times or things I had already packed.
Jimmy: "if they send us home tonight with no Vivian, you leave this suitcase packed!"
Me: "duh."
I'm actually kind of glad that I had this experience. Having a scheduled c-section is 99% awesome. I won't list the reasons, but they are numerous. However, what you don't get is that "OMG, this could be it!" experience, so even though the drive to the hospital on c-section day is very much exciting, it's different.
This little dry run was quite enjoyable in hindsight because I got to see Jimmy's reaction to me possibly being in labor. He was a nervous wreck (although still managed to pry the bows I was trying to pack for Vivian out of my hands and hide them from me....he gave them back yesterday, and I snuck them into the bag because two can play that game).
At one point, I was dealing with Gavin and I'm pretty sure I heard him in the bathroom hyperventilating.
Me: "are you having an anxiety attack?!"
Him: "no. (gasp). I'm fine. (gasp). I promise. (gasp)"
Once we finally got loaded into the car and got Gavin dropped off with my mom (Silas was already there), Jimmy drove like a lunatic until I gave him "the look" at which point he rambled off into a speech about how he was sorry and I had to trust that he would never do anything to put mine or Vivian's lives in danger but he was very nervous about me having a baby in the front seat of his truck what with us living, like, an hour from the hospital. Also, he slowed down.
Once we got to the hospital, they hooked me up to the monitor which tracked my contractions and monitored Viv's heartbeat. Her heart rate sounded pretty steady while the nurse and I chattered away, and then Jimmy spoke for the first time. Her heart started racing, and he and I got little happy tears. It was insanely sweet to hear her reaction to her daddy's voice.
They checked to make sure I wasn't dehydrated (I was not - thank you very much) and made sure I wasn't "progressing" (I wasn't), and then just kept coming back to ask about whether or not the pain was getting worse (it was). Finally, they decided to sedate me (I think my nurse felt sorry for me because I was so tired but couldn't sleep for the pain and couldn't stop crying).
After the medication kicked in (3 am, obvi), they woke Jimmy up (I had insisted he go to sleep on the little couch) and told him he could take me home.
I haven't taken any sort of sedative-type medication since I had Gavin, so I was a mess. I put the seat back in the truck and tried to sleep but kept popping up to speak every random thought that occurred to me, "I really like the color gray!" We got home at 4 am, and I somehow managed to climb the stairs and fall into bed. The last thing I remember before drifting off into insane dreams was Jimmy kissing my cheek and saying, "thank you for being so brave." (ugh, he's sickeningly perfect at being a good fiance/baby daddy).
I spent most of yesterday on the couch trying to come back from the land of Oz.
Today it's back to work as usual. My last week of work before taking a few days off to finally tackle the last of the last minute preparations for Vivian.
The dry run was embarrassing, but it certainly let me know I am in good hands.
One week, four days. Eeek!
Friday, January 24, 2014
Just a couple of things
BEARDS
Can the whole of the male species get together and have a chat about knocking it off with this beard nonsense? (Excuse me ladies who like a rugged-looking man. I apologize for stepping on your toes, but I cannot handle it anymore).
I just want my clean-shaven fiance back, but he seems to have the impression that it is perfectly fine to go weeks without shaving. I have a sneaking suspicion it is because the rest of the male population has decided: shaving is work. Work is bothersome. Out with shaving! Either knock it off or I'm calling a meeting of women to discuss leg hair (shaving is work. work is bothersome. out with shaving! catch my drift?)
DRIVING
Now, I can't speak for the rest of the country, but in Texas, driving has gotten bad (okay, worse). I'm flabbergasted at the lack of respect for the yield sign. People are coming off the highway at 60 mph and trying to slow down to merge into much slower traffic. The slower traffic is supposed to look at that upside triangle that says YIELD and know "oh, hey, people are coming off the highway and probably want to get home to their families instead of dodging and weaving and having collisions with my self-involved ass, so maybe I should slow down and let them get on the frontage road safely." But they don't. They just keep driving, and if you are coming off the highway, well, you figure it out. I have taken a little survey to make sure that I'm not just pissed off because I grew up in a state of far superior drivers (I'm sorry, but it's true), and the Texans seem to agree with me that it is out of hand. So, now you know it's bad.
Also, (and this is just something that I think irks me as a southerner) what happened to the "thank you" wave? I'm pretty much a pushover in traffic. You put on your blinker? I'll let you over. That simple. But, you know, it's kind of nice for you to then acknowledge that I did you that solid. NO ONE DOES THIS ANYMORE. Why? No, seriously, I demand an explanation. It requires very little effort to just hold up your hand to say, "I appreciate you letting me into traffic instead of making me sit on the side of the road praying that someone would let me get in so I can get where I'm going." Because, honestly, have you tried to merge in this city? Or change lanes? No one is going to help you out. You stumbled upon the nicest driver in all of Dallas, and you can't even be like, "that was super weird that someone was just nice to me on the road here. Maybe I'll give a little wave." Nope, you just want to make me resent all of you and turn into another selfish, entitled Texas driver.
I realize I've probably just offended half the people I know with this post, but at least you know I will tell you your faults to your face (or over the internet) and not lie and tell you that your beard is fabulous (it's not) and that I think you are an excellent driver (you aren't).
You're welcome for that.
Can the whole of the male species get together and have a chat about knocking it off with this beard nonsense? (Excuse me ladies who like a rugged-looking man. I apologize for stepping on your toes, but I cannot handle it anymore).
I just want my clean-shaven fiance back, but he seems to have the impression that it is perfectly fine to go weeks without shaving. I have a sneaking suspicion it is because the rest of the male population has decided: shaving is work. Work is bothersome. Out with shaving! Either knock it off or I'm calling a meeting of women to discuss leg hair (shaving is work. work is bothersome. out with shaving! catch my drift?)
 |
| Exactly |
DRIVING
Now, I can't speak for the rest of the country, but in Texas, driving has gotten bad (okay, worse). I'm flabbergasted at the lack of respect for the yield sign. People are coming off the highway at 60 mph and trying to slow down to merge into much slower traffic. The slower traffic is supposed to look at that upside triangle that says YIELD and know "oh, hey, people are coming off the highway and probably want to get home to their families instead of dodging and weaving and having collisions with my self-involved ass, so maybe I should slow down and let them get on the frontage road safely." But they don't. They just keep driving, and if you are coming off the highway, well, you figure it out. I have taken a little survey to make sure that I'm not just pissed off because I grew up in a state of far superior drivers (I'm sorry, but it's true), and the Texans seem to agree with me that it is out of hand. So, now you know it's bad.
Also, (and this is just something that I think irks me as a southerner) what happened to the "thank you" wave? I'm pretty much a pushover in traffic. You put on your blinker? I'll let you over. That simple. But, you know, it's kind of nice for you to then acknowledge that I did you that solid. NO ONE DOES THIS ANYMORE. Why? No, seriously, I demand an explanation. It requires very little effort to just hold up your hand to say, "I appreciate you letting me into traffic instead of making me sit on the side of the road praying that someone would let me get in so I can get where I'm going." Because, honestly, have you tried to merge in this city? Or change lanes? No one is going to help you out. You stumbled upon the nicest driver in all of Dallas, and you can't even be like, "that was super weird that someone was just nice to me on the road here. Maybe I'll give a little wave." Nope, you just want to make me resent all of you and turn into another selfish, entitled Texas driver.
I realize I've probably just offended half the people I know with this post, but at least you know I will tell you your faults to your face (or over the internet) and not lie and tell you that your beard is fabulous (it's not) and that I think you are an excellent driver (you aren't).
You're welcome for that.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Getting it right
Planning our wedding took me back to Pinterest. I hadn't been on the site in months, and now it has become my go-to website when I have time to kill.
There is something about the perfect storm that is being pregnant and being engaged and browsing Pinterest that is assaulting my emotions. "Best songs for your father-daughter" dance almost did me in and with that came the notion that my grandmother isn't going to be there either.
Maybe you are thinking "it's your third marriage - what's the big deal?" And that is fair.
The thing is, it IS a big deal because Jimmy should have been my first marriage. He is the only person in the 15 years since I started dating who actually makes sense for me. And maybe I wouldn't know that had I not made those first two mistakes. What I do know is that I always questioned whether or not I had listened to God in the slightest when it came to Shane and Michael. Before, during, and after those marriages.
Right now, I KNOW I'm doing the right thing.
When we first got engaged, I went back and forth about whether or not to have a wedding. "It's my third marriage. What will everyone think?"
And then I sat down and thought and came to the conclusion that what matters is not what anyone thinks but what feels right to me.
A wedding is a celebration of the decision two people have made to commit to one another. And, frankly, I want to celebrate everything about my relationship with Jimmy. Our relationship and the happiness it brings to us is something I am excited to share with our family and friends.
Jimmy and I have both overcome so many things in our lives - things that would have annihilated some people. Our loved ones have watched us make wrong turns and bad choices. Stood helplessly watching while our lives for one reason or another collided with heartache and tragedy. These people who love us and see the good in us probably wondering if we'd ever get it right.
And when Jimmy and I stumbled upon one another, we were both at the tail end of cleaning up the messes we had made of our lives. Overcoming the heartache inflicted on us by people we had loved. We were each at a place of beginning. A place of starting over. A place of taking what we had learned and applying it in order to be better and have more.
And somehow when we each started down that road of beginning, we found that our individual roads intersected and then merged into one. We found that the journey was much better with each other as companions. That it made the bumps along the way less harsh if we held hands.
This love was a divine accident, and that is absolutely something worth celebrating.
So, that is why it is a big deal. That is why I wish my father and grandmother could be there. To see me finally get it right and celebrate my true happiness, true joy, true love.
Although I cannot make that happen, I can and will surround myself with as many of the people as I can who have cheered me on, held my hand, encouraged, and loved me through those parts of my life where I was trying so hard but getting it all wrong.
And I will beam at them through my tears of joy as they share in the celebration of me finally getting it right.
There is something about the perfect storm that is being pregnant and being engaged and browsing Pinterest that is assaulting my emotions. "Best songs for your father-daughter" dance almost did me in and with that came the notion that my grandmother isn't going to be there either.
Maybe you are thinking "it's your third marriage - what's the big deal?" And that is fair.
The thing is, it IS a big deal because Jimmy should have been my first marriage. He is the only person in the 15 years since I started dating who actually makes sense for me. And maybe I wouldn't know that had I not made those first two mistakes. What I do know is that I always questioned whether or not I had listened to God in the slightest when it came to Shane and Michael. Before, during, and after those marriages.
Right now, I KNOW I'm doing the right thing.
When we first got engaged, I went back and forth about whether or not to have a wedding. "It's my third marriage. What will everyone think?"
And then I sat down and thought and came to the conclusion that what matters is not what anyone thinks but what feels right to me.
A wedding is a celebration of the decision two people have made to commit to one another. And, frankly, I want to celebrate everything about my relationship with Jimmy. Our relationship and the happiness it brings to us is something I am excited to share with our family and friends.
Jimmy and I have both overcome so many things in our lives - things that would have annihilated some people. Our loved ones have watched us make wrong turns and bad choices. Stood helplessly watching while our lives for one reason or another collided with heartache and tragedy. These people who love us and see the good in us probably wondering if we'd ever get it right.
And when Jimmy and I stumbled upon one another, we were both at the tail end of cleaning up the messes we had made of our lives. Overcoming the heartache inflicted on us by people we had loved. We were each at a place of beginning. A place of starting over. A place of taking what we had learned and applying it in order to be better and have more.
And somehow when we each started down that road of beginning, we found that our individual roads intersected and then merged into one. We found that the journey was much better with each other as companions. That it made the bumps along the way less harsh if we held hands.
This love was a divine accident, and that is absolutely something worth celebrating.
So, that is why it is a big deal. That is why I wish my father and grandmother could be there. To see me finally get it right and celebrate my true happiness, true joy, true love.
Although I cannot make that happen, I can and will surround myself with as many of the people as I can who have cheered me on, held my hand, encouraged, and loved me through those parts of my life where I was trying so hard but getting it all wrong.
And I will beam at them through my tears of joy as they share in the celebration of me finally getting it right.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
