Parenting is hard. It was hard with one child, and now that there are two, it's harder. I guess it's not just parenting that's harder, it's life. These babies I cherish so deeply take more time and love, which is less time and love I'm able to devote to being a wife and a friend and a person in general. It's takes time and love away from being me.
By the time I've given to everyone else for the day, I'm so drained that there's usually nothing left over for me. Yet I'm often still surprisingly content despite my fatigue, because giving to the three people that I love most dearly in the world is a huge part of being me. It feeds my soul in a way I never could have imagined.
In these last four weeks, there has been so much joy and love and awe. And yet nearly every day I've had moments where I hang my head and close my eyes and feel tears welling up behind my shut-tight eyelids. Deep breaths help, but opening my eyes to see my newborns red, screwed up face as she cries out in her need for me or in the confusion and concern in my two year olds bright, blue eyes as he watches the tears slide down my face makes me feel like I'm failing, just a little bit. And the truth is, every day I do fail a little bit. There's things I could do better and that will always be true.
I'm so glad that love is there to smooth things over and make things better. To give me the strength I need to try again tomorrow. To bring a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart that nothing but abounding love could inspire. When I open my eyes and see those two faces happy and content because of love poured out of me onto them, I know that the love I gave of myself has returned to me tenfold. The hard moments are overshadowed so thoroughly by moments that fill me with happiness and I'm content.
"We dare be brave
And Suddenly we see
That love costs all we are
And will ever be.
Yet it is only love
Which sets us free."
Maya Angelou