One month ago we woke up from a full 8hrs of sleep, for the first time in 14 months. The sun was up, the birds were singing. Our boys were playing video games and Ruth was watching Frozen and eating her 3rd frozen waffle. I felt physical energy - that was new. But for the first time in 14 months we woke up to a world without Olivia. “Where is our daughter!?”
For the past month Heather and I have woken up to this new reality. We’ve slept and have felt physical renewal. We’ve received renewal from countless friends who have sent notes, cards, food, love and prayers. We’re still being carried. But we feel more worn down than we did when we slept 2-4hrs per night. There is really no differentiating between body and spirit - it’s all a part of me. And I am worn down. I’m thankful for the sleep, definitely. But while we weren’t getting sleep before, our hearts were FILLED with the love and joy which flowed from Olivia. Our love sustained her. Her loved sustained us too.
This is what I need to hear today:
We found a way to live when Olivia was here. It felt impossible, but it was either (a) crawl into a ball and let worry and fear paralyze us or (b) return our attention to *now*, and do only the next thing.
That’s all any of us can do. That’s what Heather and I will learn to do again. Eventually.
If I was to give advice to my month-1-of-Olivia’s-life self, it would be this: Come back to today. Come back to where you are. Come back to now. In this moment, everything is good. Even if it’s hard, it’s real, and it’s good. Your baby is alive and you’re holding her. Do that. The future will come later. Don’t get there before it comes. You will be ok if you stay. Be where you are. This is living.
This is good advice for today too.