Seven years ago on Memorial Day weekend, TJ and I spent dozens upon dozens of hours walking the streets, trying to induce labor. All we wanted was to meet the little girl who would make us parents. We had absolutely no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but we knew we wanted to get wherever we were going soon.
She didn’t come that weekend – she came two days later – but those moments we spent walking will be forever etched in my memory.
What bigger event is there than becoming a mom for the first time? Before every birth there is the excitement and the anticipation and the joy. But at the birth of your first, you’re not just birthing a baby; you’re birthing a mother and a father too.
There was something about standing on that precipice that etched itself into the forever parts of my brain. We were on the edge, peeking over, but we had no idea that the fall into parenthood would be the defining falls of our lives.
And now I stand on the other side of the precipice after already having met Magoo as well as Goosie and Mae, and most days I am in just as much awe as that first.
I look at these three little people, and some days they take my breath away. They are so filled with joy and innocence and love and creativity and intelligence and ingenuity and passion. Oh the passion!
I often wish that for even just one moment they could feel the love they inspire in me. Because there’s nothing greater.
It’s so important to be loved. But it’s even more important to love. And these three give me so much opportunity to love.
I have so very much to be thankful for in this life, but there’s nothing greater than the souls that slumber in this house every evening after we have shut the light off and shut out the world.
Out of all of the gifts that my children give to me, perhaps the greatest is the opportunity to have my chest swell up with so much love it feels like it might overtake me.
“It was the pleasure of my life, and I cherish overtime; my whole world, it begins and ends with you.”
Sweet dreams my children.