Anna is now a little over 2 months old. We are beginning to sleep on a somewhat normal schedule, helping me regain a little of what I remember as lucidity.
In these moments of healthier-sleep-induced-awareness, I've been able to reflect upon some things about myself. Some ugly things. Some very stinky, rotten things.
Having a newborn is a great way to reveal your true self, if you really want to see it. The parts of you that you tuck away for no one to see, ever. The monster that comes out when every back and arm muscle is aching and it's 2:30 am and she. won't. eat. but would rather scream right in my ear as I bounce and pace and cry right along with her. (I'm pretty sure every mama has been in that moment.)
Dare I say it, I think those nights are behind us for now. They went so quickly. Why was I so short-tempered? Yes, I know I was sleep-deprived, healing from labor, with a cocktail of post-partum hormones coursing through me... but somehow I hoped that I'd be stronger. That I was a seasoned veteran. Puh! Yeah, right.
Instead, I'm only reminded of the VERY thin layer of Sara Control. I can make it look good for a little bit, but when life pushes back against me, I crumple. My patience is weak and short. My idea of the depths of despair would be a day in the park to some. My point of hopelessness is laughable.
And the ugliest part that I saw was that I turn to myself for help.
Instead of laying my unattractive heart down to be washed and renewed in repentance, I picked it up myself and poured another cup of fix-it coffee.
On the other end of the first 8 weeks of another human's life (some of the most catch-your-breath beautiful and yet frustrating moments), I'm reminded again of His silent long-suffering.
Of His endless patience with my fussiness.
That He went deeper into any depths of despair that I could ever imagine, and came out the other side victorious.
And that He is hope.
... linking up with GraceLaced today!
3 hours ago