by ayallawt | October 15, 2009 1:52 am
This morning I sat at my desk watching the snowstorm rage outside, my palms cradling a fresh cup of coffee. Having a toddler and a baby to care for, warming my palms (both at the same time) on a hot (and not reheated) cup of coffee is a rare and delicious treat. Exhausted by a sleepless night due to his first round of vaccines, little Tom is finally sleeping, lolled peacefully in his favorite swing.
I watched the storm while the landscape paled before my eyes, covered with the first frozen blanket of early snow. The wind was fierce, erasing all trace of our little sandbox, one fluffy flake at a time.
Winter came so fast, and yet it seems like an eternity has passed since last summer. So much has happened in these few months that I can’t seem to decide if the time flew or flowed. I am trying hard to remember how it feels to be pregnant and fail. The softness of my belly tells of containing life, but the heart has already adapted. The novelty is no longer there. Odd, but for a woman merely 8 weeks postpartum, I no longer feel like I just gave birth. This is why I like this blogging business. It virtually makes me stop and ponder the moment. Pay attention to how I feel here and now. Coming to think of it, I never let myself feel “like I just gave birth”. Never gave myself the time. I was all about trying to get over the pain and the fatigue so that I could “get something done”. I wish now that I would have just let it be. Be postpartum, rest and accept the generous amount of help I was being offered. I am so good at “helping the helpers”. Having someone do things for me always makes me feel guilty. I guess I’m no good at being weak.
It is snowing on my Tipi. Winter has arrived. So did my baby. This morning, I stop to smell the snow.
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