I Remember...

• 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.

Grace. 

A blessing, given, though undeserved. 

 

My son. 

A family. 

Becoming a mother. Sometimes a good one. Trust me when I say, this would not have been possible without God's Grace.

Amazing Grace. 

Thank you.