Illuminate Week 3 -- I Am Grateful For
This has been an extremely rough month, both emotionally and physically. I'm having a hard time healing from Marshall's recent delivery, and my mind is a complete mess of rampant thoughts and emotions. Just when I thought things were finally settling down, I got mastitis. Bad, bad mastitis. I dropped to the floor and cried. Because of the excruciating pain. Because of the disappointment. Because of the feelings that as a mother I was already letting my baby down.
I cried. And cried. And cried some more. I cried until I didn't think there was a drop left in my body.
The next morning as I was feeding Marshall, I wrapped us in a quilt from Grannie Eva. I pulled a book, The Pokey Little Puppy, from the book shelf. And I tried to calm myself, rocking and reading to my baby. When Marshall had fallen back asleep, I sat there looking at him, marveling at how amazing he is.
Then I looked around at my little corner. Andy's quilt, almost like my security blanket, covered the back of my recliner. The quilt covering us was crocheted by Grannie Eva as she earnestly prayed during my entire pregnancy. The book was from my mom. It was one of my favorites as a kid, when my mom read to us every night. Brake's urn sat just out of arm's reach, next to a bouquet of some of my favorite flowers.
In that moment, I remembered my own childhood. All the hopes and dreams
my parents instilled and encouraged. The love, the hugs, the bed time
stories. The self-esteem and confidence built at a very early age. In that moment, I realized how far I have come. And how many wonderful people have come this far with me. They may not have walked the same agonizing steps as I did, but they were there to help me, to pray for me, to hold me, assuring that I was never completely alone for a single step of this journey.
Of all the small things that make me happy, like sweet tea and sunrises and autumn leaves, I think these realizations, these people, their unwavering love and support, mean so much more. I think grateful is probably an understatement.
For the photo assignment, my 100 steps took me down the sidewalk to what's left of a flower garden: