Monday, December 12, 2011


When Micah's gone we go through stages. The first few weeks are always the hardest. After spending every waking moment in each other's presence, it's a bit of a shock to go from that to pure absence. So, I hibernate. Don't take it personally if I don't contact you, don't answer phone calls, emails and Facebook messages. Hibernating is how my heart gets used to traveling around the world. I always tell myself that it's going to be different next time, but it never is. I just need to be. And that's okay.
After the hibernation stage, we brisk into the schedule. We emerge into our new normal and finally routine ourselves into the "it is what it is" idea. I hate being away from my husband, but I love what he's doing and why he's doing it. So, I cling to the good and kick Satan's nasty lies in the butt. You know the whole, "he would be here if he really loved you" crap. The fact of the matter is that he does love me; that's why he's gone. Of course in the midst of the schedule stage, I have moments of grief and days that I crawl back into my little cave and let the storm pass. And that's okay.
In stage three, we "just push through it." We've made it through the bulk of our time apart and we just push through the last few weeks. We talk about things we're going to do, who we're going to see. We make concrete plans and relish in the idea that we'll actually be doing them together. We remind ourselves that we've just got to get through these last couple of days; that relief and another new, wonderful normal is just around the bend.
Exactly one week from yesterday, our family will be complete. Even if only for a little while, we will be melded together like concrete. Oh, what a month it will be! Adding Christmas festivities and loved ones gathering together and, break into the Hallelujah Chorus, people! We've got Heaven in a snow globe! (Okay, sand globe...)

In other news,
Our little guy is blossoming into a semi-mobil, smiley, head-full-of-hair eight month old. He recognizes his name, gets excited when mommy plays with him, pets the doggies if they come close and is *this* close to not toppling over when he sits up. It's truly hard for me to believe my baby is so close to turning one. I feel like we just brought him home from the hospital. Maybe it's because of how vividly moments of those days are etched in my memory; maybe it's because time really does fly when you become a parent. Either way, I grow more and more in love with Mr. Man and his Daddy and couldn't imagine life without my dude's. I am blessed beyond words.

Speaking of Ben-Jammin's first birthday... We are on the brink of planning something insanely awesome. I'm keeping details to myself for the time being, but just prepare yourselves for epic and keep checking back for news.
Also, prayerfully consider donating to our little Rock Star's fund in support of the National Down Syndrome Society. I am amazed at the amount we've raised thus far and can only imagine what could be in store between now and March 29th! Thank you to those who have already donated. Ben and his buddies thank you, too.

Goodnight, moon.

Such a big boy!

1 comment:

  1. Your words help me get through the long distance with my Riley. I sure hope that I can make it to his birthday, especially since I will be a little closer by then! Love you three, and can't wait to hear about the month of adventures you're about to have!