Our little campfire is a week and a half old now – and Mr. Canon, how you’ve captured our hearts! Lately, I’ve found encouragement in the littlest of things, and wanted to share some of these nuggets passed on from friends. [I think it’s one of those things that oftentimes we forget the impact of our words, both positively and negatively; gratefully, this post finds itself on the former, but regardless, might we be mindful of the way in which we speak and write to each other – lasting impressions are made!]
In preparation for induction almost two weeks ago: “Cara, let go of expectations of having the perfect natural birth – and give yourself permission to get an epidural if you need one.” Done. Since giving birth naturally was pretty much thrown out the window the minute we entered the hospital, I appreciated that little pep talk.
“It’s the baby – not the birth – that counts.” This reminded me of our wedding – granted, we wanted and desired for the day to be special and memorable, but we were committed to not spending our life saving’s on the “big day”. Hence, it was more about marriage than the wedding day of that counted, and it’s the same with baby boy.
“[insert baby name…], you don’t make life easier, but you sure do make it better…” I LOVE this. Little Campfire, sure, life was most certainly easier before you arrived, but it’s a whole HECK of a lot better now!
“As you feel sleep deprived and maybe even irritable at times (at least I did), know it gets better! It’s hard having a newborn, it’s wonderful and precious but definitely hard. Praying joy is your resounding emotion!” Indeed, might joy be our resounding emotion in the midst of sleep deprivation, poopy diapers and blow-outs alike, exhaustive baby cries at 2.33 in the morning and the like. Might we find and experience joy.
On that joy-filled note, I started dying of laughter the other day after the change of one poo-filled diaper led to him filling it up within 30 seconds of the new one, not just one time after that but three more times over the course of 11 minutes. Not only have I entered the club of my child’s bowel movements being the main topic of conversation, but I’ve entered the arena of joy being the resounding emotion.
At least that’s the hope.