We are a whopping three days in to this whole thing called “parenthood,” and I am giddy. Tired, yes. But giddy. I look at myself in the mirror and the grin spreads from ear to ear before I’m even aware of it, and it feels like my heart is beating the rhythm to a joyous song. My world at the moment is once of family time — it revolves around a certain Little Man and his Daddy, and I couldn’t be happier. I laugh my way through diaper changes, coo over the faces the Baby Bard makes, and fall head-over-heels in love all over again when I see how his Daddy holds him and cherishes him.
It has been far too long.
They say hindsight is 20/20, that you don’t know the impact of the journey until it is over. I am stunned by the strength and intensity of my transformation. To have walked through Hell, endured sorrow beyond belief, and emerged on the other side… The sense of personal growth and profound emotional satisfaction here at this moment is nearly indescribable.
Last year, the hospital staff wheeled me out of the maternity ward in a wheelchair to go home. My arms ached with emptiness, my heart crushed with the worst defeat a woman can ever experience.
Yesterday, I walked out of the hospital on my own two legs, arms full with renewed hope and joy and love. As I stepped out into the sunlight of the hospital parkinglot to meet my husband at the car with our son, it felt like the biggest Triumph to be stepping into a Beginning and not an end.
God is Good, and I am profoundly grateful for the gift.
Onward and upward. ❤