And since then, the days have changed - first with smiles, and then the soft, sweet coos and giggles. Of course there were the frazzled, haggard hours and all of the zombie-feelings. That third-fourth month when the internet swears to you that he is/should/will soon be sleeping through the night, but you know it's one big fat lie and are almost convinced it will never come.
But those moments are subsumed in the joy of the incredible newness when they first gurgle, sit up, touch your face. There is great bewilderment and mutual discovery.
And amid all of these new discoveries as a Mom, I've lately been surprised by twinges - some of nostalgia and mourning, as we continue to struggle with my Mom's battle against Alzheimer's and the ever-changing role as caregivers. But more surprisingly, Lexington all of a sudden became home. Things fell into place in a way I'd never imagined/planned for myself. It initially felt like I was living someone else's life. I wanted to go, travel, be elsewhere, buck the white picket fence and comfy home. But here we all are, and amid the "comfy" suburban life there is such deep, unanticipated hardship - totally breaking down my stereotypes/childish perspectives of the lives I thought everyone around me was building.
And in addition to the hardship there is profound joy, fullness, flavor in a world I'd written off as insipid.
There is potential
There is hope
There is fulfillment
and so much love.