Tuesday, November 15, 2011


Not hers. Mine.

I don't wake up in the morning and have to remember that this is my life now. I don't take her from James as he leaves in the morning and dread the long day ahead. At least not everyday. When she takes long naps, I've started to miss her.

I realize the signs of my "growth" make me sound like a monster. Which I'm not. The first few weeks are hard; harder than anyone told me, or, more likely, harder than I was willing to believe. There is adjustment, and sleep is the least of it. I wanted this change - want it - and I knew it would change things. I just didn't realize the scale. I've had to adjust how I viewed everything: my life, my goals, my ambitions, myself. It didn't take me weeks to learn to get by on less sleep. It took weeks to get used to imagining my life in a radically different way. To realize nothing was left untouched by this change.

But, as I said, I'm growing. Everyday.

Like all growth, it can be tricky to track the progress. Yesterday I found a measuring stick, and I was overwhelmed with the understanding of the depth of my love for my sweet baby. I knew that the love was there, but it's new, and I hadn't yet tested its depth.

And yet, that doesn't sound right either. It's not new. It's old--ancient. It's not that I feel love for her stirring within myself, I feel it stirring in everything; in me, in James, in the wind and the traffic and the leaves. It's in the fabric of our clothes. It's everywhere.


  1. This is the most beautiful cry I've had all day.

    I remember when my oldest was born. I didn't leave the house for a month. Not because I didn't want to; because the all encompassing change wouldn't allow it. Each child took me a full year of adjustment before I felt comfortable with the transformation. Each time I couldn't believe I'd ever lived life without them in it. Which I think you captured perfectly in the ancient nature of our love for our children.

    Here's a deep, deep thought. During those months you carried Edie, you also carried all the genetic components of each of your grandchildren from her. This thing you've done is cosmic in scope. And it just keeps growing.

  2. Thanks for putting into words something I have known since Eva was a baby, but I could never really explain. Only people that had experienced it themselves could understand.

  3. I understand what you are saying. My life keeps changing in these ways and I find new things that I didn't understand about how others love and provide for their families. This was beautiful. Love you.