I have a perfect daughter
I have become more
That was a haiku.
I actually meant to start this way to distract you from the fact that I suck at blogging consistently... but that actually sort of describes the changes going on around here, perfectly. So I'm gonna go with it.
I am a mother.
Phoebe Rian Sibray
January 24th, 2011
7lbs 5 oz, 21 1/4 in long
I have a perfect daughter.
She is flawless. Beautiful. Lovely. Perfect.
I literally love her so much that it's painful. I constantly try and explain my love for her, but words just fail, and isn't that the very best kind of love? The kind you literally can't explain, because it is just too good. That's the kind of love that is flowing in our house. The kind of love that comes with new life. The kind of love that comes with a renewed and grounded marriage. The kind of love that comes with a raw and honest relationship with Christ. That's the love that resides in my house and it is good.
I have become more.
More than I was before her. I love more, and I have more grace, and more understanding. I am more, because of that tiny little girl.
Isn't it funny, that when you start a new chapter of your life, everything that came before it gets a little blurry? It's still there, the memories, the relationships, the places, but they morph into something different... because you have changed. I now fill another role. Through my life I have collected lots of titles, daughter, grand daughter, friend, employee,
The blurry bits? A brutal start to our marriage, my broken life before Christ,
I wouldn't trade the relationship I have with my husband for anything. I would relive our first two years again, if it meant I would get to experience life with him now. I would be more than willing to go through my pregnancy again, because loving that little girl with my husband is so worth it. My life before Christ was ugly and painful, and honestly my life after Christ is painful... but it's worth it, because I have him, because he saved me, because he saved my daughter and he is never going to turn away from my ugly and blurry bits. Because he loves me. Because he loves her. Because he loves you, and he has promised us joy, and an abundant life, full of moments to cherish, and moments that stand apart from the blur, and I intend to remember those moments. The ones that teach me something, the ones that bring us closer, the moments that are full of love. I intend to remember the good.