I Could Not Write

It has been about 10 months since I have written here.  I hadn’t been able to. I wanted to. I thought about it often. My husband even asked about it.  But I couldn’t.

I, literally, could not write.

I couldn’t write for many reasons – but now I am going to try.

On April 22, 2016 our baby girl was born.
On April 22, 2016 my father died.

It was the best and worse day of my life.

She wasn’t expected to arrive on that date.  He wasn’t expected to depart on that date.

I couldn’t write because I had just had a baby. My world flipped all around and I could hardly find time to brush my teeth. So, I could not write.

I couldn’t write because instead of enjoying a first week at home with our baby and drinking in all the newborn love, we had a hectic week of trying to get to Virginia to attend my father’s funeral.

I couldn’t write because I had so many emotions…. I couldn’t sort out my thoughts.  I wanted to pour any positive into the baby.

I couldn’t write because as soon as some of this began to settle, my husband had to go back to sea and I was here alone with our new baby, our animals, our responsibilities – and all my sadness about my dad.

I couldn’t write because just a bit over a month after my father died, my mother got drunk and fell down a flight of stairs – rendering herself in a hospital for surgery, then a 3 month stay in a rehab facility for her leg, and then a few months bed-ridden at home.

I couldn’t write because I then had a ton of anger and sadness over my mother, worry and love for my brother, and still in emotions over my father — all while trying to give my best to the baby.

I couldn’t write because I had a new baby – diapers, nursing, sleeping, growing, appointments, milestones, visitors, traveling….

It took a long time to try to find my footing with this new life as a mother, and this new life without my father to be apart of this journey.

At some point, I hope to be able to write out our baby’s birth story – even including the sadness because it also brought some miracles in her birth.  But, I am not sure I am ready for that yet.

Meanwhile, our daughter, Shenandoah Joelle, is thriving. She is above expectation. And we are so glad of that.

I could write about that all day every day… if she would give me the time to do it.

Instead we play, crawl, pull up to stand, wave hello, watch the dogs play, feed the chickens, explore food, laugh from our bellies, stare at the trees as the leaves blow in the wind, dance to music, hold her when she cries, and experience everything for the first time with such happiness.

I’m going to enjoy these moments, imagine/pray that my father is right here with us, and thank him for doing all that with me when I was a baby.







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