Postpartumhood has been feeling like a heavy coat in springtime as of late. You know, the coat with that darn torn hem you can never get around to fixing. The heavy, wool one that comes out on the coldest of winter days and scratches the back of your calves as you walk.
Put down your coffee and listen. I am extremely joyous and thankful, every single day - or thereabouts - but, the beginning stage feels like it should be over. Yet, the excess weight, the bags under the eyes, the crankiness...are each writing their own novellas. It's to the point where I am convinced I will always be nursing ten times a day and feeling nostalgic for my former figure.
I told Eric the other day that I just wanted "this part" to be over - the new baby feeling. The new mommy feeling, like I walked out of the hospital two months ago when it's been six and a half. As usual, his response contained beautiful wisdom and total acceptance.
Then, today, these two women at Figo reminded me how fast it all goes. How it slips by faster than any parent can imagine. "Enjoy this stage," the woman with the 21 year-old said. Like Eric's comment that this all seemed "about right" for the given stage of growth we are all in, I was reminded to let go of expectations. Let go of wanting time to speed up.
It's a perfect thing to remember over the holidays when, if you listen, the world seems to utter a quiet hush. We can remember to lounge just a few more hours around fires and a few less in front of computers. We can spend just a little more time dragging out those late night conversations instead of hurrying to bed. We can let go of the decorations that didn't get put up instead of craving the "perfect" holiday we knew as children.
Merry Christmas.
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