A few weeks ago, if you had a question about parenting, Chris & I were experts. We’d read all the books. We had all the answers. We were confident. And then I gave birth. To the most delicious little squish mouse bitty bop muffin puffin imaginable. But the experts have quickly become the student. And as part of our first lesson, our son didn’t come the way we had expected or planned on, and we spent 5 days in the hospital together. But we’ve been home for a while now and are all doing really well. Arthur is continual, utter perfection. And my best friend had the foresight to buy me panties the size of parachutes so I don’t irritate a fresh incision that Chris affectionately refers to as “Arthur’s Escape Hatch.”
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I’ve thought about writing more in depth about our experience surrounding his birth, but for now, we have enough to say grace over.
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So far, living with Arthur has been a dream. As long as his needs are met promptly and to his standards, he hasn’t had any real problems with us as parents. If you were to enter Chris and I in a timed baby clothes changing contest, we would solidly come in last place, and I think our marriage has been strengthened by our mutual agreement that putting tiny hands and arms through tiny sleeves at 3am on little sleep is for the birds.
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I am so very much in love. With Arthur, of course, who I love with such ferocity it makes me feel sick to my stomach at times. But immensely more so with Chris, too. I married an incredible man, who is taking such thoughtful, selfless, constant care of the two of us. Watching Chris step into fatherhood, and witnessing the tenderness he has for our wild little nursling, has been one of the sweetest privileges of my life. Arthur spent his first hours on earth skin to skin on Chris’s chest, while they waited for me in recovery, and the ability Chris has to calm him now is the loveliest thing to behold.
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We are definitely experiencing the usual emotional tumult of the initial post partum period, and for us, the joy has sat side by side some very real grief.
Last month my beloved cousin, Erica, who when we told her about being pregnant with Arthur had the most hilarious, sweet, and memorable reaction in the whole family, was in a terrible car accident. She has made remarkable progress in even surviving, and then in coming out of her coma, but we need her to come further still. And so while we love on this perfect new creature, who we are so grateful to have been entrusted with, we are also on our knees, hearts aching, begging God for continued healing for Erica. While also fiercely believing that if anyone can survive what she has experienced, it is her, and that we will be able to introduce her to Arthur soon. If you think of us, would you please pray for her and the rest of us?
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If you’ve reached out and haven’t heard back from me — I love you, have grace with me. If I’ve reached out, and you responded, and then I never responded back — I love you, have grace with me. There are a lot of emotions these days and a lot of hormones on board, and a generous mixture of exhaustion and sheer, soul expanding delight. Thank you for loving on us, for reaching out, for caring for us. We’ve been in a bit of a den with our extraordinary little cub, but we can’t wait for him to get to know more of our tribe.
