I've not had much to say lately. Not here, not on Facebook, and not on Twitter.
In fact, I've not been on all 3 nearly as much as I used to be.
Where have I been?
I'm sure you can guess. I've been busy!
Life has become significantly more full in the last few weeks.
I have forgotten how much energy and time a newborn sucks from a schedule.
I have forgotten that the simple task of packing a diaper bag takes entirely too long.
I have forgotten what it's like to have to work on a tiny baby's schedule- naps, feedings, diaper changes- whew! There are some days that I feel like I'm planted on the couch nursing, nursing, nursing.
But I've not forgotten how truly blessed we are to be juggling 3 little one's schedules. I've not forgotten to soak it all in.
If you were to come to my house, you would realize that the dishes sit in the sink over night now. The laundry is piled up (sort of....I still love to do laundry WAAAAAY too much, so when I say it's piling up, that means that there is actually some dirty laundry in the house...) There are toys thrown across the living room and kitchen floors, and we are eating waaaay too many frozen/processed foods than I care to admit. But that is OK with me.
I've been spending time with my family. Shane has had some days off work which has allowed him to be home with us. We have been watching lots of movies with the kids and making thanksgiving crafts. We have been playing games and ooh-ing and aah-ing over how completely sweet Luke is. We've been watching as Caleb snuggles his little brother, and Hannah tickles and pets his head.
Things have been good. Really good. And for that I'm thankful.
As I look back at Thanksgiving last year, I remember the feelings of rage that I experienced. I remember feeling like I would never feel thankful for anything in my life ever again. I remember wondering what I had to be thankful for- my baby was dead, I was hurting, my husband and children were hurting- how could I be thankful for that?
I remember, after everyone went to bed, the rage that I felt. The anger I felt was raw and intense. I wanted to destroy something. I wanted to rip pictures off the walls and throw them. I wanted to take every last dish out of the kitchen cabinets and smash them. I wanted to take a sledge hammer to the walls. My rage was pure and it was intense. I had never been so angry in my entire life.
This year is completely different. My baby is still dead. My family is still hurting. But we are healing. God has remained faithful. I can look back at Joshua's life and truly be thankful. Thankful for what he taught me, thankful for what he gave us, and thankful that he is my son. Our lives will never be the same, but I'm realizing that the change in our lives may very well be a good change, although extremely painful.
This year for Thanksgiving, I'm taking it easy. I'm enjoying my children and my husband. I'm soaking in the love that continues to surround us. I'm allowing the moments of sadness to come, but not allowing them to overshadow our joy.
This year for Thanksgiving, I'm healing.