Three weeks ago I moved in with my sweet inlaws for a time of waiting. We packed my firstborn and my belly and a mix of maternity and post-partum gear, and then waved good-bye to papa, first one weekend and then the next. My Millie and I shared chocolate and silly TV shows and samosas. Jem and I woke up early (5:00am!!!) most days after nights without sleep, went for countless walks, visited playgrounds, and learned just how far lego, playdough, and truck books can go in a two week period. We tussled and discussed and kissed and cuddled and shared how we missed Papa. I jogged and jumped and drank raspberry leaves and wondered. And we all waited… and waited.
And finally that night and day arrived, with its beautiful Gift. And finally those weeks of waiting came to an end with a cry of celebration and discovery and welcome. And finally we were a family, all over again.
We shared a beautiful week together as we got acquainted and reacquainted. My husband brought me all expressions of chocolate, banana cake, and Caesar salads (my big post-partum cravings), took care of the brimming two-year old (even bunking with him), cooked and tidied, and listened as I processed that crazy wave of those first post-partum days. My inlaws let their living-room fill with diapers and wraps and sleepers, and showered their newest addition with all the cuddles and loving gazes they could pour open his rapidly growing frame. Taking that week down in the valley was the best thing for our family. An excellent use of time and space and coming-together.
And then it was time to pack up again and bring our sweet prize up to his mountain home. The cabin where his heart began beating, the paths and forest where his brother ran wild, the soil of the earth and heart where we had sown and harvest so much in the past year. Fog and clouds and colors and conversation accompanied us through the mountains; lavender and wood and chilled smoke greeted us at our Augusta home.
So here we are. Wow. Our baby has arrived. That season of waiting is over. Now it’s time to shift our gaze and begin to look towards packing, moving, and letting go. The seasons is changing. There’s a chill in the air, but my vision is warm with color.
I wish you open eyes and hands this weekend of Thanksgiving….