Tonight I sit in the same place I sit each night, my laptop balanced on my legs, and my pirate quilt snugged around me.
Tonight he sits beside me watching a game, just like most nights.
Tomorrow I will sit in this same place, with the same blanket snugged around me, and the same guy beside me.
Tonight the dishes are done, the lunches are packed, and the dryer is close to buzzing the end of the cycle.
Tomorrow the dishes will be done, the lunches packed, and the dryer close to buzzing the end of the cycle.
Tonight is as ordinary as ever.
Tomorrow will be the start of a new normal.
Tonight there are three sleeping children upstairs.
Tomorrow there will be four.
Tonight is one of those moments in motherhood where you stand on the line between old and new. Those breaths where you wait and hope. Those moments of anticipation. The too long hugs and the never wanting to forget this day just as it is now because you know it will never be the same again.
Remembering when they arrived and the way life changed forever and how you were a little scared then, too. You tell yourself it turns out okay. You tell yourself that your heart will keep expanding and there will be enough love for everyone because that’s just the way it is.
You tell yourself you will be enough. You breathe in hope and excitement.
You push away doubt. The question of who are you to be the mother of four. (You still don’t say it at full volume because then, it just might be real.) You tell yourself to ignore all those busybodies who have nothing better to do than question your sanity and capability to be a mother of four.
You can’t listen to those voices when you are trying to squelch your own.
You will be enough.
You tell yourself it won’t be too much, but you know some minutes, some hours, some days it will be too much. You’ve walked a similar journey before and so you know enough to see past the rose-colored glasses. You know that this is a significant bend in your story. It’s this moment when you are going to become a forever family, and it is going to be very good.
It has to be.
You were called to do this.
So even though you are behind on email and you haven’t been able to tell everyone everything you wanted, you have to trust that it will be okay. And even though you’ve not gotten to tell all the people that you should tell that you are adding another child to your family and you feel really sorry that some of them are going to read the news on the internet, you still know it is going to be good.
It is going to be very good.
Because you will be enough.
I am enough.
I am sure.
I see his story, lived too long alone, intersecting mine and his and theirs. Becoming a forever family, revising our history, changing the course of our story, making a more complete story than before. He’s never even set foot in our house and I’m not sure how we ever lived without him.
This kind of assurance only comes from above.
Tonight I’m thankful and humble and so very excited.
Tomorrow I will be too.
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Slice of Life Challenge on Two
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