Another rainy day

There are times where rainy days are welcome and lovely.  I think these are mostly in the spring, when the sun is shining through the raindrops.  When there are rainbows and warm breezes.  When bunnies and wood nymphs frolic through the cheerful mists.

There are times when rainy days are welcome and lovely.  November is not one of those times.  It's raining out there.  It's cold and dark.  As if the days weren't cold and dark enough without the rain.  So I'm a little cranky today.

Nate left for a week-long business trip this morning.  Even Laura seemed to know something was up.  She cried all morning, and refused to be put down.  I had to sneak out of her classroom after I took her to day care this morning.  It's like the whole world is crying.

Another rainy day

There are times where rainy days are welcome and lovely.  I think these are mostly in the spring, when the sun is shining through the raindrops.  When there are rainbows and warm breezes.  When bunnies and wood nymphs frolic through the cheerful mists.

There are times when rainy days are welcome and lovely.  November is not one of those times.  It's raining out there.  It's cold and dark.  As if the days weren't cold and dark enough without the rain.  So I'm a little cranky today.

Nate left for a week-long business trip this morning.  Even Laura seemed to know something was up.  She cried all morning, and refused to be put down.  I had to sneak out of her classroom after I took her to day care this morning.  It's like the whole world is crying.

The Light of My Life

I mentioned yesterday that I hate what I have written in the "About Us" section on that little bar above.  In it, I say, "Laura is the light of my life!"  I read this one sentence and cringe.  What a sappy, un-me thing to say.  I would never say something like that in real life.  So why is something so stupid on my blog?  Today, I'm here to change that. 

The months following Laura's birth were a dark time for me.  I wanted to look at my daughter and feel my heart swell with love.  I wanted to just smile as I watched her sleep.  I wanted her to be the light of my life.  But my heart didn't swell; I didn't smile as she slept; Laura wasn't the light of my life. 

I was a sailor lost at sea, desperately searching the horizon for a lighthouse that wasn't there.

Maybe I set myself up for failure in those first few months.  Maybe as an expectant mother, still pregnant, I spent too much time imagining some perfect relationship with my daughter.  A relationship that could never be realistic. 

As I realized that my imagined relationship wasn't realistic, the seas of discontent rose around me.  Waves of anguish, remorse, disappointment tossed me about.  However, between every wave there is a welcomed lull.  In these breaks from the thrashing of emotions, I was able to see a glimmer of light from the shore.  Happiness.  After months of darkness, the storm began to let up.  With the help from counseling and family, I had longer periods of rest between waves.  The horizon grew brighter.  I could see the shore.

Now, my relationship with Laura is just how I imagined all those months ago.  When I look at her, my heart swells.  I smile and sigh as I watch her soft cheek rest against her blankie as she sleeps.  Laura is a light in my life. 

But Laura is not the only light in my life.  I spent months lost at sea looking for one lighthouse.  But in all those months, I overlooked all the stars shining above me.  Nate.  Riesling.  My mom.  My dad.  My sister. My brothers.   Nate's family.  My friends.  And yes, Laura. 

I wasn't lost in the darkness after all.  I was surrounded by love and light.  Only now, I can actually see it.

The Light of My Life

I mentioned yesterday that I hate what I have written in the "About Us" section on that little bar above.  In it, I say, "Laura is the light of my life!"  I read this one sentence and cringe.  What a sappy, un-me thing to say.  I would never say something like that in real life.  So why is something so stupid on my blog?  Today, I'm here to change that. 

The months following Laura's birth were a dark time for me.  I wanted to look at my daughter and feel my heart swell with love.  I wanted to just smile as I watched her sleep.  I wanted her to be the light of my life.  But my heart didn't swell; I didn't smile as she slept; Laura wasn't the light of my life. 

I was a sailor lost at sea, desperately searching the horizon for a lighthouse that wasn't there.

Maybe I set myself up for failure in those first few months.  Maybe as an expectant mother, still pregnant, I spent too much time imagining some perfect relationship with my daughter.  A relationship that could never be realistic. 

As I realized that my imagined relationship wasn't realistic, the seas of discontent rose around me.  Waves of anguish, remorse, disappointment tossed me about.  However, between every wave there is a welcomed lull.  In these breaks from the thrashing of emotions, I was able to see a glimmer of light from the shore.  Happiness.  After months of darkness, the storm began to let up.  With the help from counseling and family, I had longer periods of rest between waves.  The horizon grew brighter.  I could see the shore.

Now, my relationship with Laura is just how I imagined all those months ago.  When I look at her, my heart swells.  I smile and sigh as I watch her soft cheek rest against her blankie as she sleeps.  Laura is a light in my life. 

But Laura is not the only light in my life.  I spent months lost at sea looking for one lighthouse.  But in all those months, I overlooked all the stars shining above me.  Nate.  Riesling.  My mom.  My dad.  My sister. My brothers.   Nate's family.  My friends.  And yes, Laura. 

I wasn't lost in the darkness after all.  I was surrounded by love and light.  Only now, I can actually see it.