Six months ago it was April 13, just after Easter. The weather was damp and cool, the trees were
bare, and the fields were dark, muddy brown.
We were both in pretty awesome shape, with a month to go until our
spring races. Blog posts were few and
far between; I was busy, busy, busy and bored with waiting for news. But when inspiration struck, and I could
wrestle the computer away from Tim, I could sit in peace and quiet for two
hours and whip one out. We were excited
for the next addition to our family: Tim’s sister was due to deliver our second
nephew, Lucas, in about six weeks. I was
putting in way more hours than I wanted to at work, but in a week, I would be
taking a Friday off and flying to Milwaukee to surprise family for a cousin’s
baby shower. I was big into flying away
for quick weekends last spring; flights were cheaper than driving and it was
such an easy way to get away by myself. Tim
and I were waiting every day for the phone call that might change our lives.
It would come in three days. April
16. Yet another day on the calendar that
will be special to Libby’s story.
Adopted kiddos get so many special days to celebrate… it’s
wonderful. Funny enough, April 16 was
already a pretty great day in both our families, my dad’s birthday and Tim’s
parents’ anniversary. Now it’s
extra-special.
Today it’s the middle of October, just after… Columbus Day, I
guess. The weather is cool and lovely, a
relief after summer’s heat, but so very dry.
The trees are blazing red and gold and green, and the newly-harvested
fields are flat and golden. I’m in
pretty awful shape :) My last race was that Half in May, I rocked over 20
minutes off my 2011 time - now I huff and puff my way through a 5k. Blog posts
are still few and far between, because I’m busy, busy, busy. Inspiration strikes often, but every time I
get the computer all to myself, I can sit for about 10 minutes before Little
Miss decides that Independent Time is over and it’s now Mommy Play Time (which
is wonderful, I’m not complaining). Sometimes
it take me a week to write a post, bit by bit.
As it turns out, Lucas was not the next addition to our family, but he
was close: born June 4, the day after we flew home from California with
Libby. I’m back to blissful part-time
hours at work, and I have to enforce them strictly because daycare is now a
factor. Going away for a weekend is no
longer quick, or easy, or by myself… and never on a plane. SO MUCH has changed since the day that phone
call came that changed our lives.
It’s pretty clear from my posts and my statuses and my tripled caffeine
intake and the condition of my house and the fact that I wear a ponytail every.
single. day that a lot has changed in the last six months. Of course it has: we brought a baby into our
home. Even strangers in the grocery
store smile knowingly when they admire her and guess her age and remember how
drastically their lives changed when their first child was brought home.
So much is different now, that was no surprise. Of course I knew things
would BE different. The surprise plays
out as we learn HOW things are different.
How we can function on three hours of sleep and how baby food is
surprisingly delicious and how her laughing and singing and cooing and blowing
bubbles can stop us in our tracks and dissolve us in giggles, far more riveting
than anything we previously considered “entertainment.”
Another big surprise, though, is how certain things will never
change. Things I would have thought I
wanted to change… now I’m starting to think it’s really okay that they stay the
same. Like my messy house. I thought that the with change from working
32 hours a week to 20, my house would look great. BAHAHAHAHA.
Cue the laughing moms. Of COURSE
it’s still a disaster. Caring for Libby
and carting her around from appointment to appointment, strapping and
unstrapping the carseat over and over and over again, diaper breaks, pushing
the cart a little slower when she falls asleep, and so much more that I’m not
thinking of at this moment… all of that takes WAY more than my newfound 12
hours of “free” time from work. So the
house comes last, which really disappointed me at first. And while I’ll admit that the messes still
bring me to tears from time to time, I’m learning that the stacks of dishes and
papers and laundry are signs that my life is full and blessed and
beautiful. I remember a wall hanging my
mom had while we were growing up: “A spotless house is the sign of a dull woman.”
It’s so hard to remember, and I’m sure I’ll lose it again soon, but I just need
to count the blessings, not the “stuff” that’s out of place!
I thought I might be able to relax a little more during football
season, gaining some perspective as a new parent and become a little more
reasonable, less crazy of a Packer fan.
True, we WATCH football a little differently now: we DVR almost every
game and end up starting late after a nap or errands or church activity (hence
the absence of my gameday play-by-play facebook commentary, much to the relief
of my non-Packer or non-football-fan friends). But once it’s on, it’s ON. It’s more intense than ever, or maybe it just
seems that way because the Pack is off to such a sputtering start this year. I may not scream and yell as loud when Libby’s
asleep, but as I sit on that couch and sweat it out, covering my eyes, heart
racing, TOTALLY overreacting… I’m so happy it’s still the same. I need that escape. Newsflash: I KNOW that football is really not
that big of a deal. But there’s a lot
going on in my world that IS a big deal, and it feels so wonderful for three
hours (or an entire Sunday afternoon now that we have Sunday Ticket) to completely
stress about something relatively insignificant.
Here’s something I once thought I might escape, forget, move past once “Future
Baby” became a reality: the sting of the years and years that we waited for
her. The pain and the worry and the days
of bitter jealousy and despair. Having
her here, home, REAL is the absolute joy of my life. But she doesn’t “erase” the pain of the past
few years. And I’m realizing not only is
that okay, it’s a HUGE blessing. I
always knew God had a reason and a plan in allowing those years of struggle, so
it was silly and short-sighted for me to ever think those memories would fade
away once our prayers got answered.
Those years served a purpose not only in bringing us together with the
precious girl He intended to be ours, but also in learning from the journey
itself, and helping others going through the same thing.
Libby doesn’t bring hope and peace and joy to our family alone. She, and others like her, are PROOF to those
still waiting and hurting that God answers prayers and makes miracles
happen. I will never forget what we went
through to bring her home, and I will NEVER stop “needing” the people who got
me through it, because they truly understand the daily battles I once faced,
and may face again one day. Some of them
are still waiting and struggling, and I continue to pray for them, to hope and
to dream for them. I learned and grew SO
MUCH through the experience, and I can’t believe I ever, ever wanted it to all
just go away. Every tear we ever cried
made Libby that much more precious.
Every second we waited made her more loved. Every prayer we raised brought us closer to
our Savior, and made it clearer and clearer that she is a Gift from above,
nothing we could ever have imagined or believed or made happen on our own.
Certainly a lot has changed since April 16, and in three days our
family will celebrate all those changes that took place since the day the phone
rang and we first heard the name “Elizabeth.” But today (and tomorrow: Game
Day) I am thanking and praising God for all the things that are still the same
and will probably never change.
Especially His love and mercy.
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