The First and Last 6 Weeks

Well, I once again survived the postpartum period (the first 6 weeks of it anyways) for the last time in my life. Just after midnight, Anthony will be six weeks old. Let me tell you, it is bittersweet.

Every day could be a story in itself. The hormones have taken me on a rollercoaster ride, again, and while one would think that I may come to expect it by now and thus know how to cope with it, this is not so. It is a unique experience every time, teaching me what I need to know, breaking down walls that need to come down, and strengthening parts of me that need to be strengthened. I may have had six children, but I have never been a mother to six children. This is all new to me.

I must find space in my home and in my heart (not to mention my schedule and pocket book) for a sixth child. Thankfully, he is the perfect sixth child, sleeping amidst the hustle and bustle of our already busy home and quietly easing his way into our family. It also helps that he is a fantastic snuggler; I tell you, there are few things in life better than having a snuggly newborn in your bed at night. It makes it all worth it.

I always feel that the speed with which the postpartum period seems to pass (in hindsight) is a blessing in disguise; for this time is so physically and emotionally demanding that I would not wish it to last forever. However, knowing that he is my last child, there are times when I find myself wanting to stay in the moment. He is already growing and changing so fast, starting to uncurl and open up to the world, and I want to slow him down just a little bit. Stay my baby. Stay with Mommy. My older children are evidence of what is on the near horizon.

I have always said that I believe a part of Heaven will be having a newborn to snuggle on your shoulder forever; for the scent and feel of a newborn's fuzzy head is nothing short of heavenly. There is some chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when a mother breathes in her newborn's scent; Anthony, please don't turn into a sweaty-headed little boy too soon.

It's easy to be nostalgic when all the kids are in bed and I have the quiet of the night to pause and reflect. Each day is a struggle; bringing about new challenges and experiences for me to learn and grow from. How will I be a different (hopefully better) mother at the end of this day? What will I take with me into the next? The postpartum period seems to slow down in pace and keep you trapped in time, one seemingly endless day running into the next, and I think the reason for this is that we have so much to learn from this time. It is laying the foundation for our future mothering skills of this child.

Forrest and I can look back and smile at the time when we were raising just one child (I should never say "just;" the first child is challenging) and realize how far we've come. Oh, in these busy days, what I wouldn't give to have a day with "just" one child! To think of all I could get done! But it's been a long road to get to this place. When I started training for my 10k, I didn't go out and run six miles right off the bat. I built endurance one mile at a time.

I look to the future with anticipation, awe, and a little bit of fear. There are so many things I am excited to do, things I have held off on during this season of raising babies, but will they have as much to offer? I have heard so many times from other women that years spent raising young children were the best of their life, and I don't want to leave this phase too quickly. I am anxious to do many things, but I am afraid if I start getting too busy I will look up and this time will be gone. As challenging as some of my days may be, I don't want to wish any of these moments away.

I remember the day the idea came to me that I wanted six children. I can visualize where I was, how I was sitting, what I was thinking. I confirmed it with Forrest and since then I have had that seed planted in me. After Rachel was born, I remember saying, "I'd be okay never doing that again!" yet I knew that if I stopped with her, I would be incomplete. That sixth child would be missing and I would forever know it. Now he's here, they're all here, and the chapter is closed. No one told me it would go so fast.

So I will enjoy all I can, some days more than others, and despite my best intentions know I will find myself fervently wishing some moments away (we still have a couple of toddlers on our hands!) to get through the day. I recently heard it said that the "big picture" is composed of many snapshots. It's funny how with the passage of time the mind seems to filter out the negative, the stressful, and the bad, and preserve only the good in a situation. Hence the nostalgia of our memories. Despite the trials of each and every one of my days as a stay-at-home mommy of six young children, I am sure I will one day look back on these as "the best years of my life." I do try to take snapshots, by writing down cute things the kids say in my journal, taking the time to look at details in the pictures they draw, peeking on them in their beds at night, and watching them play out the window. Hopefully these will be the memories I preserve. There is no doubt in my mind that these children are a blessing, each one of them coming down from a loving Father in heaven, and entrusted specifically in my care. They chose me and I chose them, and the seed was planted long ago for me to have them. I only hope that one day they can look back and say that I was as good a mommy to them as they are children to me.