There is something critical about remembering, about looking back, about facing the past with eyes wide open and then turning back to now, to see the whole journey and then the place where you are.
Though I've removed most of the old posts from this blog, the ones that I've kept are the ones that remind me of the path the Lord has had us on over the past 14 months. I think that my life will forever feel divided between the time before the summer of 2015 and the time after. The grief and pain of the circumstances have lessened, but our family and our life and our journey changed so drastically after that point that it will never not be a part of our story.
I see the ER visit last August, references to not sleeping, the anguish I felt during Advent last year, the uncertainty of the spring as Christian looked for a job, the thought that maybe we were ready to have another child.
There are many things I could mention now that are difficult, but all of those things have changed so much in what really has been such a short time. Mental health and clarity. Restful nights of sleep. Happy and joyful celebrations with our family. Christian's new job, doing what I think he was made to do. And this slowly building excitement about the new baby that will be joining our family in the spring, a long awaited addition that I wasn't sure would ever come, almost six years after our last baby.
This isn't the story I had written for our family when Christian and I were getting married. I knew it would involve ministry and probably close ties to our local church. I thought it might involve traveling overseas. I wanted it to include children, lots of them, and me joyfully delighting in giving them a classical education at home, because in my mind, that was what good parents did (and, I should say, many good parents do!).
And here I sit, in the second September in a row that I have felt almost completely incapacitated, although for entirely different reasons, and I wonder, Lord, will I ever learn not to rely on myself?
Last year I was crippled by anxiety, depression, lack of sleep, and pure grief. This year it has been the trial of early pregnancy, which hit me like an eighteen-wheeler and left me breathless. I went from 60 to 0 in a day's time, or at least that's how it felt. All of my plans for the fall suddenly vaporized as I realized instead of what I thought I needed to do, I needed to focus my attention on things close to home and taking care of myself so that I could take care of my family.
This is life right now, and I'm learning to be content.
