Wednesday, June 6, 2007
In three hours, nine months of pregnancy closed with the whirlwind birth of Savanna. And thus begins my six days of new, changed things:
My not pregnant body: even if a little battered, 90% more comfortable than the pregnant body.
My sleep: though broken up into little increments, still deeper and more satisfying than ten hours straight of pregnant sleep.
My little boys: completely fascinated and taken in by their little sister. Tender and curious, protective and sweet. Adapting faster to this change than I ever dreamed.
My relationship with Phill: it has taken on a whole new dimension. Sounds very cliche, I'm sure, but I'm not sure how to describe it. We're happier. We're better friends. We're even more united in purpose.
Me: I was worried that once I had my third child, somehow other parts of my personality would become obscured by all the mothering. I wondered if I would still see myself as all that I am--wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, woman. To my surprise and joy, I am finding that I feel more woman than I have ever felt, more multi-faceted and more capable, even more beautiful (besides physically). I'm more determined to do my best.
Phill: he is even more tender. I have always been proud of who he is, but I'm even more so now. I see new aspects of his personality coming through, which is exciting! We've impressed each other with how we've handled this shift in our home life. We talk to each other even more. We are both finding more strength and more of a desire to parent our children as well as we can.
So here it is: I am so happy. I wake in the night to hold my little wonder and revel in her smallness and softness. Our boys can't resist her, touching her hair, laughing softly at her tiny proportions, soothing her when she cries. Even when I'm nervous and tired and trying to overcome, I am still so happy. I'm in love with my little family. This isn't some just-given-birth "high" talking. I already said I have my moments. Everyone does. But those are moments, and they are nothing compared to this new, changed, eternal part of our lives.