Much to be thankful for.

Hope

Resilience

Miracles

Two months ago, I was laying in a hospital bed, talking to Greg on the phone, wondering if I would make it home for Thanksgiving and if I would still be pregnant at that point.

I woke up that morning repeating "Today I am still pregnant".

Many times I thought to myself "I just want this to be over".  I didn't really know what "over" meant exactly but I knew I wanted to move on to the next phase of whatever the Lord had in store for me.  

I find myself fighting His plan even now.  Asking Him to hurry it up so that we can move on to the next phase and the one after that, even though I'm not sure what those phases even hold.  I just know that the one I'm in now is slowly squeezing the hope, joy and energy right out of me.  

Lately, our schedule has been so full that I'm physically, emotionally and mentally feeling the effects of it.  I wake up at 4am to pump, finish up around 4:45 (my morning pump is epic since I'm not pumping in the middle of the night any longer), get everything cleaned up, shower, pack my lunch and get Grace's cup and breakfast ready, start waking her up, get her dressed (this is a feat in itself, daily), get her to daycare, drive to the NICU 45 minutes away (without traffic), pump, feed Noah, snuggle, meet with the nurses and his neonatologist, drive back to Racine, pump, work, pick up Grace, get home, dinner, running around, pass out. 

Lately I've pushed myself to the edge of exhaustion so many times that I literally just fall asleep. My body aches, my incision hurts, my head pounds and I've pushed too hard.  In working on slowing down, but there really isn't much I can cut from that schedule.  I'm down to 6 pumps a day and that's as low as I'm willing to go right now. 

The thing is, as a mom, you don't have a choice, you just do it. You do it because your family needs you. All moms do this, NICU moms just do it on fumes.

I'm reading "Early Daze" by Jennifer Roberts and this passage is spot on.  This is how I feel almost every day.  I can't snap out of it and I just hold on and pray that this phase will end soon.  

So I pray to God, please let this phase pass. Bring Noah home, home to my arms, 4 seconds away instead of 45 minutes. As I'm praying, I run out of words to say, things to beg for, and I realize that I've lost my attitude of thankfulness. That all I can think about is my exhaustion and personal struggles.  So I still my heart and my mind and I pray without words.  I let Him see my true heart and start to trust again that He will provide what is best. Even if it's not what I want, it will be what is needed.  He knows my heart as he knows every hair on my head.  

I also know that I'm not the only one in this family and mine are certainly not the most important needs that need being met right now.  So I hold on.  

Hope. Resilience. Miracles.  That's what the bracelet I wear on my arm from Graham's Foundation reminds me of daily.  

Resilience.  Keep going. 

There is MUCH to be thankful for.  My family is healthy and alive.  We are surrounded by a village that has helped us in immeasurable ways and continues to do so, out of the blue.  BLESSED.   So whatever His plan is, I will continue to be thankful for the blessings and the struggles and pray that I can hold on to this hope without fail.  And know that when I do fail, He will ensure I am lifted back to my feet again.   I hold a miracle in our arms daily and for that, there is much to be thankful for.  

"The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy." Psalm 126:3