It hit me during a quiet night in and I was all alone, waiting for everybody to come home. I need them to come home so my seemingly stopped time can tick its way into movement once again.
Little one’s arrival was a happy event for everyone but it was a drastic change on my end. A transition to a new me — a shift in priorities, routines, mental headspace — no, maybe not a shift or transition but a birth to a totally different me that I’m also trying to get to know little by little. This is most likely the postpartum talking but this is really hard. While everybody gets on with their life, I feel like mine stopped altogether and created something entirely new only, it is not about me anymore — calling it mine sounded inapt.
Inevitable. I guess this is what happens when you are entrusted with another life; the change is inevitable. Good thing in the midst of all these flickering scenes, One is constant. He is the rock I can continually hold on to. He is never changing; something that is very assuring in this time when everything around me feels unfamiliar. These are the truths I am overly communicating and reminding myself these days. But to be completely vulnerable, I’m not quite there yet. Even though it looks like I have it all figured out, I am still in the process of trying to see the beauty of where I am right now. Yeah, it is hard, but tomorrow is another day — we’ll try harder.