Jadon has been crying for an hour and a half, since I laid him down for his nap at 3:30 p.m. For the first part of that hour, I would visit his room, rub his back and gently tell him it was time to take a nap. When he chose not to listen, I just let him cry.
It’s agonizing to hear my baby cry. But I sat here, for the better part of an hour, while his scream chipped away at my heart’s resolve.
A few minutes ago, I visited his room for the last time. His eyes were swollen and puffy, his mouth twisted in a pout. I picked him up in my arms and rocked him until his heavy eyes finally closed. He whined when I put him down, but I softly stroked his cheek and back to let him know I was still there and would be as long as he needed me.
He is quiet now.
So I’m sitting here staring out our gameroom window at a sky splashed with orange and pink and blue and purple and tiny wisps of white. It’s breathtaking. Something in the beauty of a sunset has the power to move me.
I’ve been in sort of a funk lately. Haven’t wanted to go to work or participate in any extra activities or even write. I know I’m a mess when I don’t feel like writing.
I feel dry and lonely and…abandoned.
This happens every now and then, when stress and exhaustion numb me to what’s really important in life. I know it’s just a cycle that will eventually end, but it’s still a vicious cycle—because every day I look in the mirror and I see all the things I wish I could change about myself. I look at the mess piling up in my home and the son I have to leave every day when I go to work and I begin to believe that I’m not a good wife or a good mother.
I look at my life and all the dreams that seem so far out of reach, and it’s enough to make me give up trying.
It’s an awful place to be.
Maybe it all started as we got closer to Jadon’s first birthday. It’s hard to believe he’s a year old already. He’s charming and infuriating all wrapped up into one. He is beginning to get an attitude and likes to throw fits when he’s not able to get or do something he wants. He now stands 31 and a half inches tall and weighs 21 pounds. He says Mama, Daddy, Jake (for Uncle Jake), hey, hi and duck. On good days, he’ll say his own version of “Thank you.” He never says “Please.”
We celebrated his birthday on Thanksgiving Day with a Curious George themed party. Jadon enjoyed opening his (way too many) presents and enjoyed even more playing with each one—especially his drum sticks and the small guitar. He’d pluck the strings of his guitar and look at his daddy and me to make sure we’d heard him, then would smile from ear to ear when we clapped for him. He is our precious, happy boy, safe in our love, secure in our protection.
At his party, I found myself thinking about how quickly time has slipped away. A year ago, Jadon was only weeks old, and Ben and I were stumbling through this parenting thing. A year ago, I leaned on my friends and family to help me get through the emotional period that follows the birth of any child.
A year ago, my grandmother was talking and laughing and feeding herself and was able to hold a baby Jadon in her arms during his first Christmas.
How much has changed in a year.
I’ve always struggled with the passing of time and getting older. I’ve never really wanted to get older—been a little scared of it, I guess. Having a child makes it seem like time speeds even faster than it used to. I don't like that I can't remember how it felt to hold a still, tiny baby in my arms just so I could breathe his baby scent. I don't like that my life has become so busy that I no longer have time to lean on friends and family when my emotions get the better of me. I don’t like that I can’t talk to my Memaw anymore, that she won’t laugh at Ben’s cheesy jokes, that she can’t even use a fork anymore. I don't like that she won't be able to hold Jadon ever again. But I know it’s part of life.
And the sunset has reminded me of something.
Just before the night’s darkness, God shows us something beautiful—so we’ll remember it when the night seems too long. And the sunrise…well, it’s made all the more beautiful the blacker the night. I think Jesus is a lot like the sunrise.
Oh, God, show me the sunrise.
Jadon's birthday breakfast
His first cupcake
Mmmm. That was good.
The table spread
The awesome cake
Amazingly, this did not result in an injury.
Presents, presents, presents!
The family after Jadon's first birthday party.
Christmas is coming!
2 comments:
I love your sharing and I understand about the writing thing. I love to write and I think that it is like a soul sucking experience when you feel like you cant even write. Ugh! I hear ya. And oh those moments when we hear our babies having to cry it out. Those strong little wills. Oh Jesus, we pray your will...not theirs or ours. Hang in there. Love the birthday pics!
Wait a minute! He's already one!!! How fun! And, the table is soooo cute! Happy Birthday!!!
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