I’m a chump for the holidays. I get caught up in all the joy and fun.
There’s just something so magical about it all, isn’t there?
I typically experience the after-holiday blues around this time. It’s childish, I know. But I just can’t help myself.
Today is Rowan and Emmanuelle’s due date. Happy due date my darling daughters. Rowan is enjoying her day with Mommy and Sarabi in her baby pink onesie. She graciously accompanied me to Starbucks this morning. I snuggled her in our Sakura Bloom sling. It was magical. Show off my baby? Don’t mind if I do. No doubt, my baby Emmanuelle is enjoying her due date with our Heavenly Father. I love you Emme. What color onesie shall I imagine you in while you sit on Jesus’ lap? Grandma would know; she’s good with that stuff. Perhaps an ivory-colored onesie with some feminine flare. You are my brunette baby with a darker complexion; you would look like a beauty among the angels.
January 2: The end of the holidays. I remember 2012 … Shortly after the New Year’s holiday, it was time to move on with “normal” life. We were in the depths of our infertility journey, and I’d welcomed the holidays as pain medication for my aching heart. Little did I know, we would spend 2012 and 2013 child-less. I woke up one Monday morning – dark and cold – and my heart just ached. It just hurt so bad. My pain medication was gone; there were no more distractions. There certainly wasn’t a baby. My heart hurt that morning, but I bundled up and went for my run – passing Belle Haven Drive along the way.
I remember. I will always remember. And I am so thankful it’s over. I’m so thankful that today represents what it does and has brought a new meaning to the days after Christmas.
Because the joy doesn’t end today. The joy is just beginning …