- when sleep dictated every waking moment.
- falling in love with the car seat.
- driving around for 90 minutes hoping for 20 minutes of sleep.
- when nap fail made me a failure.
- tossing cacooning to the wind, in favor of being "out" and visiting as that was SO much easier than the uncertainty/agony of just us home alone.
- the day I fell to my knees screaming at God that I couldn't do it, that He had to, cause I had nothing left.
- the moment he picked me up, and did it all. "Grace. Amazing Grace." And I sang that song for weeks thereafter.
- when walking and holding hands, meant me leaning to the side to be able to reach his.
- how he felt in that ergo.
- when 6 dinner plate sized pancakes was a meal. Every meal.
- when slurping noodles was the funniest thing ever.
- changing that first diaper and how it seemed bad. But not *that* horrible.
- the stink 2 weeks later, that seemed to permeate every pore, cell and air particle.
- wondering if I'd ever be able to smell anything besides that caustic gas and shit.
- trying to stop *behaviors* as being the 'goal'.
- seeing him touch the dog for the first time, without screaming bloody murder in nervous fear.
I remember, still to this day, feeling this post from only 4 weeks home. I'm still scarred by those early weeks and months. Scarred by what I thought I could do on my own. Scared when I realized being a mother to this child was not bringing out the best in me that I envisioned. Scared that I wasn't good enough for him. All those emotions, stirred up, and unable to focus, unable to have any perspective, feeling like a complete failure, and that pissed me off. Truly.
A blessing, given, though undeserved.
Becoming a mother. Sometimes a good one. Trust me when I say, this would not have been possible without God's Grace.