Love creates things/ can’t help it

Love does not go to waste. It never goes to waste. Always, quite the opposite. 

I could not have done this year without Trevor’s love. I have been convinced of love. I know it exists for me, forever. 

I have been beyond exhausted this week. I’ve felt overwhelmed to the point of lying in bed awake at 5AM over all of the things I am responsible for. I won’t exhaust you with details, but being a homeowning, professional mom of preschoolers who have been through immeasurable change in their lives, in a new town, dealing with grief is beyond what feels possible. I have felt at my breaking point. I’m getting over a small virus and the tiredness and weight of everything feels crushing. Crushing. Impossible.  

I’ve been here before. “I can’t do it!” I have felt pain so intensely and with such force that I felt I would be ripped in two. But I survived it. Twice. Once I made it by leaning back on strong arms, stretched out for me. I screamed in agony and leaned on a body stronger than mine. Safe and warm. Championing me. Believing completely that I could, indeed, do it. Ooooh, those arms. And then we held our son.

I did it the second time without the arms around me. I don’t know how to explain it except I needed to transition to mothering this daughter standing alone. Knowing that his arms would hold me, but needing to go through the pain alone. He was standing outside the curtain, at ease, leaning in every few minutes to say in that deep, calm voice, that I could do it. And then our daughter came into the world. And man, was he proud of me. Knowing I would rock it.  

I’ve felt similar agony, on and off like waves, over the past months and days. I can not do this on my own. I cannot bear the weight of it. And when my heart is overwhelmed, and I literally collapse and call out for help, I feel those arms around me. I honestly don’t know how to put into words how clearly I feel those arms surround me. - I will help you. I know this path. I will hold you up. I will carry you. God, You are creating something so beautiful between you and I. You are astounding, and powerful, and able.  

Im still in the middle of it. But I hear those words between the waves and in them.  

And after the trauma of birth comes connection. I’ve heard it described as euphoria. Building nearness. Intimacy. And hearts that beat in the same cavity now lay as close as possible apart. As love is SEEN for the first time. You are building something so true between us. You will comfort in the middle and after the trauma of “the impossible.” I know this to be true.