As I reflect on 2023 and look ahead to 2024, I am reminded of what a beautiful triumph life can be. Equal parts beauty and tragedy all rolled into one. I firmly believe that the direction of our lives will head in the direction of our mind. Not that we will be magically spared of any tragedy, but that we will handle tragedy differently based on the internal narrative we subscribe to. I have found grace in focusing not on what I must give up but rather what I will gain from the sacrifice.
Losing Pappy in January of 2023 was one of the hardest points I have personally endured. Little did I know that the grief of that moment would not compare to the grief I would experience in unforeseen moments throughout the year. How a smell, a rain drop, a pancake or dancing in the kitchen would bring a wave of unexpected grief that brought me to my knees. Grief is a strange process that plays out differently for each of us. January also brought with it the start of fulfilling a dream of completing a doctorate. I started my doctorate on a Tuesday and lost Pappy on a Friday. That’s the way life goes sometimes.
In June we welcomed our beautiful son, quite unexpectedly 6 weeks before his due date. We sat in our dr’s office in Alpine and were told that perhaps our son was no longer growing and we needed to have a scan done that our small, regional hospital didn’t offer. We were sent to Midland for an appointment the following day at 1 pm. That Dr. reported that I needed to go to the hospital for routine 24 hour observation and sent us to Odessa. I walked into the hospital around 4 in the afternoon, registered myself while Jarrett parked the car and Jak was born at 6:31 pm via an emergency c section, weighing 3 lbs. 5 oz.. I am forever thankful that he was never ill or in any danger, he just needed time to grow.
I remember laying in my bed on the postpartum floor listening to the baby across the hall cry. Feeling that it was terribly insensitive to place me next to someone who had the privilege of having their baby in the room with them. As I began to feel sorry for myself and our situation I was immediately sobered by the realization that many mothers never got to meet their children, I could wait patiently for the 26 hours to pass before I got to meet my sweet Jak. My heart was flooded with empathy for the mother who would always carry that longing with her that I only had to wait 26 hours for. I am forever thankful that I was able to hold my son twice a day during these 26 days in the hospital.
We visited Jak twice a day while he was in NICU. We left Alpine the morning of June 8th and did not return until the afternoon of July 4th. I am forever thankful for jobs that allowed us the flexibility to be with our son every single day. I am acutely aware that this is not everyone’s reality. We went twice a day to see him like clock work at 8 am and 8 pm. Sticking to a very strict, every 3 hour pumping schedule in between to establish a breastmilk supply for him. I am forever thankful that I was able to establish a supply for him that has nourished him in this time, I am acutely aware that many mothers are unable to do this, even with their baby with them constantly. About 5 days in we were able to do kangaroo care with him twice a day each day. I am forever thankful for a job that has allowed me the time to be with my son and express milk for him multiple times a day.
I share this to say, life will give you a measure of grace and grit that you cannot imagine. One that will show up just in the nick of time. Just when you think you can’t possibly handle it, you can. The strength rises from deep within you. Be cautious of the very human tendency to feel sorry for yourself. Someone always has it worse than you do. I could focus on the fact that I didn’t get to have my son in my hospital room, that I only got to spend a few hours a day with him for the first month of his life, that I spend over 3 hours a day expressing milk for him and that I lost my father this year. Instead, I am thankful that I got to visit my son and hold him, that I was able to bring him home, I am thankful that my body provides him with the nourishment he needs and I am thankful that my father is no longer in pain but living free in a manner he would never experience earth side.
This year, I am choosing to focus on the gifts I have been given, what I have, not what I don’t have, creating space for my family in the chaos of our schedule and holding it as sacred, moving more slowly and intentionally than normal and resisting the urge to buy into the notion that the busier you are the more successful you are. I believe grace and beauty are found in the slow simplicity that life offers us if we will simply lift our heads to see it. Motherhood has brought me a measure of peace and grace that I have not previously experienced and I am here for it. Motherhood is a beautiful gift. Happy New Year sweet friends, may this be the year of the highest blessings for you and your family.
