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Friday, February 1, 2013

I'm writing now.

I had no intention to write from this place. This four days out of fourth baby lalaland of overwhelmed and overblessed and overtired. I have guest posts lined up and prewritten posts and shop updates and really, no problem letting the blog be quiet for a few days. But today, at the end of our first day home from the hospital, I got the itch to hop on Annie's Influence Network class. I've been super unplugged from work this week and feel great about that, but I've checkin in on the network forums once or twice mainly because I love those girls. The core team has given me free reign to totally check out, but once the kids were in bed and we were just sitting there and Nick was busy processing orders in the office - it seemed fun to tune into the class and show my mom what a one looked like. 

Annie is all kinds of wise and wonderful and her class tonight was on "writing through all the seasons". I didn't even think about it being applicable to me - in this one - because I had no intention to write from this place. She shared so much goodness about when to write and when not to. When to publish and when not to. When to get permission and when to share and when to stay quiet. She asked one pertinent question though and suddenly, my mind was reeling and my fingers were itching to type. 

She asked: What do you wish someone else was writing about? 
And I have to answer back. This place. 
I wish someone would write from this place. Without pressure to do it right or well or theologically correct or beautifully. I wish someone would just tell this story. 
So I'll quickly tell mine. 

I met my fourth baby this week. I've never anticipated a birth like I anticipated his. I think the Lord gave me some sweet foreshadowing and knowing ahead of time and I had three really prominent thoughts about his coming before it happened. 

#1. I somehow knew it was going to be extra painful. 
#2. I knew (because the doctor had told me) that it was going to be our last and so I wanted to treasure each and every second. 
#3. I wanted to be present and to walk with the Lord in it, as much as possible. 

To start, the whole thing was extra painful. From the second minute of this fourth c-section, I knew it was going to be a doozy. My first days of recovery were filled with what I call "biggest loser moments". Me, grabbing the bed rail of the hospital bed - crying and sobbing and telling the nurse "I can't do it!" just like the weaker contestants on the biggest loser. They always annoy me. It's three minutes on the treadmill. You have to do it. I was likewise frustrated with myself. You HAVE to roll over. You have to stand up. Sit up. Just do it. Stop crying, lady. 

But on the other side of the crazy pain was the crazy sweet. The baby that I couldn't have ever dreamed up. Cannon Connolly, who rushed in and stole my heart. The one who barely cries. The moments with my husband. Friends visiting. Mama flying in from South Carolina. Incessantly face-timing my sister and texting my far away friends. Flower arrangements, bottles of wine, booties and blankets all delivered. Kissing Cannon for minutes and minutes and minutes. All of my other kids, I've very honestly had a hard time connecting to super quickly. The week of their birth, people would say - Are you just so in love? Are you just so smitten? In the past I've nodded and prayed and waited patiently to connect. This time was so different and so instant and so hard and fast. No one had to ask. I was in love. 

Underneath the sweet was the constant. Thinking about the ones at home who I love so much. The ones who have been watching and calmly letting the months pass as I carry their brother. I feel suddenly awake to them, ready for them. Ready to get home to them. To mama them too. I feel renewed for them and aware of who He's made them to be. The other constants seem beautiful and worthy too. The business and the ministry and the relationships. The end of this pregnancy brought with it a desire to wake up to all the things that had been laying dormant around me. I wanted to know how all my friends were - to text them all and say "HOW ARE YOU? HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?" , I wanted to google things - remember how to do things. I wanted to bake. To organize. To create. To enjoy. You know, all from the hospital bed where I was writhing in pain. 

Swirling together this pot of my week is the hormones. The tired. The crazy. The beautiful. The truth that as real as everything feels, many things are exaggerated and many things are dulled. The kids aren't really THAT loud and the coffee isn't THAT good and the night wasn't THAT short. But in these days, the mixing will convince you that they are. 

So you walk forward. In the pain, the sweet, the constant things of life pressing to the surface. While the emotions and feelings guide you through it all. You ask the Lord to guide you and lead you. You walk with Him and remember to pray underneath your breath during as many minutes as you can. And maybe you wish someone would write from here - even though it's fleeting and so fast you can barely grasp it with hands or words or pictures or memories. 

Just those crazy few days after you have your fourth baby. 

pssst. Have you checked out the Influence Network classes for February yet? I can't say enough about these classes. I've now attended every one and they've been so life giving. Every single one has been overwhelmingly great. 
And you don't have to be a member to take one!  Go check them out. 


Aja said...

Beautiful. So fleeting and worth remembering, worth documenting.
Congratulations on your sweet babe!

Ashley said...

As I sit here anticipating sweet baby number four I can't help but love this post... So honest so real so praiseworthy... Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself that is so special.. May God bless these days in your families life!!