Wow, how the time flies! It's hard to believe it's been 3 months since that night in the hospital when the drama of my pregnancy ended and the adventure of parenthood began.
The time I spent on bed rest in Colorado, at home, and in the hospital seems like so long ago now. People told me I would forget much of the struggle of the pregnancy. The memory of the hurt would dull with time. The sadness would fade. I thought they were wrong, that they didn't understand what I was going through. How could I ever forget all the physical and emotional difficulty that Aaron and I went through. They were right.
The memory of the contractions, the back pain, the heartburn has dulled. The memory of the time I spent lying in bed, alone, staring at the walls and wondering about the future of my family has faded. The fear I felt for the health and safety of my children seems less acute. And now when I cry, it's because of the overwhelming sense of love I feel as Aaron, Lola, Jackson and I grow as a family. I no longer tear up because I see Aaron struggling to be strong for his family while worrying so much for them. It's because of the tremendous sense of pride I feel when I watch him interact with his children. It's because I feel so grateful for the way things turned out for the 4 of us.
My friend Jackie told me time and again while I was pregnant, "Just wait, everything changes when you become a parent." "Sure sure, I know it does," I would tell her. I had no idea.