i miss you


Zero to one, one to two, two to three.   Every transition is hard and unique in it's own way.  Our freedom, our dying to ourselves was profoundly hard.  

People singing poetic of their firstborn, sloppily dripping, head over heels in love.  Never of the fear, the zombie like feedings, nipples blistered, crying never to relent, counting down to finally hit a month.  I miss those first days with her.  I wish I could hit rewind to cherish it.

Gazes upon these mountain ridge lips, sandy blonde hair, suckling and hand clenched around my finger.  I see you sweet Storey girl...I see you in her.  Wanting to eat this time up with what could be my last, but divided heart & mind with two older girls.  

Strong and resilient.  Mothers walk through fields of guilt giving relentlessly and when not giving, the heart floods with "should be doing more."  These Satan lies leak in and deceive me.  They tell me I won't ever be fit to do enough.  They tell me I need to be giving more.  They remind me of how much I've already failed.

Oh sweet big girl.  I miss you.  "When will you be able to snuggle again Mama," you ask?  Oh how the arrow shoots through.  

Oh middle big/little sister.  I miss you. "Mama, Mama, Mama!  Mama, I'm talking to you!  Look at me, look at me!" you persistently call.  Please know I'm wanting to answer, it's that I'm so tired.  

Oh littlest of the crew.  I see you.  You are not missed, but constantly attached.  "Cry, Cry, Cry!" you cry.  "Suck, suck, suck," you nurse.  I love these moments that I'll never get back.  I wish at times it was like this with your big sister, when just one.  

I miss being able to stop and read a book without a crying baby needing me.  I miss snuggling easily while papa is working evening hours.  I miss us.  I miss the lazy summer when Caprice was still inside, but I'm also thankful she's in my arms.  

Pinterest quotes roaming around how if we don't listen to our children when they're little with the little things, they won't come to us with the big things when they get big make me puke.  If there isn't more leaps of guilt to add to this already tired soul.  

Know that I miss you Veronica.  Know that I miss you Cadence.  And know that I miss us Ben.  We will find our footing again.  We will find our new rhythm, dancing to the beat of our new family drum--I'm confident.  But, right now, in this very moment, I'm just a little sad we have to wade through the hard to get to the glory.