Don't Let it Be You

I obviously have no memory of the day I was born. However, I like to imagine it was a beautiful day, filled with gloriously warm sunshine that pierced a deep ocean blue sky.

My earliest memories are scarce, but begin about the age of 3. However, I'm not addressing memories here; I'm choosing to focus on the very day I experienced pain, and light, and cold, and hunger for the very first time.

I know what it's like to welcome a newborn into the world. I've given birth to 4 children, and will never ever forget the awe and wonder I experienced as each one was placed in my arms for the first time; staring at their precious cherub faces, admiring their tiny button noses and perfectly pink pouty lips, counting their tiny fingers and toes, all the while wondering how it was possible that I could already be so in love:

Connection

Only moments ago

I wondered who you were;

Now that I am holding you

My heart begins to stir.

Suddenly I recognize

Now that we’re together,

I would give up everything

To be with you forever.

-Karla Claybrook

Then reality sets in with little to no sleep, endless feedings and diaper changes, teething and crying, and crankiness. And anxiety. And doubt and fear, and sometimes even in the best of circumstances, a flood of "what was I thinking?" There's no handbook. And no two children are alike. And you don't have enough hands (Or elbows. Or patience). Mix in a few more children and a little a lot more chaos. Oh and suffocatingly deep dark depression...therein lies the makings of shattered dreams of too many once hopeful adolescent hearts. And most of them suffer in silence.

My mom was one of those. I didn't have the maturity to understand her suffering, but I remember vividly her frustration each time she returned from a doctor's appointment. "I'm just fat, forty, and neurotic", she'd say with disgust. Sadly, that became a sort of a joke to my dad, but I never heard her laugh about it. I know now she was probably drowning in despair. 

Unfortunately, life in our home was far from ideal. But by the grace of God, I survived. Healing has taken the majority of my entire adult life. But I can't help but look at the sweet little face in that worn black and white photo, with awe and respect, and a heart full of love and gratitude. With my whole life ahead of me, I entered the world so precious and fragile, and innocent to the reality of what lay ahead of me. And I've conquered with determination, and courage, and faith that has firmly connected my heart to the Master Healer.

That day, more than half a century ago, was indeed, an extraordinary day. It was the humble beginning of my miraculous journey to my very best self. While many experiences have been harsh, and the scars too numerous to count, I wouldn't trade the lessons or the blessings for anything this world has to offer. And I LOVE who that precious baby girl is becoming!

I'm all in! Are you with me?