It rained last night. Gray clouds cloaked the valley all day like a warm blanket and as the day came to a close, a slow summer rain descended and sprinkled, gently washing everything it touched.
I was performing as the rain fell, acting as water in a musical about mermaids, moving my body like a fish and in my favorite scene, tap dancing as a seagull (Yes, you read that right.).
I enjoy being on stage. There is a thrill in being so utterly exposed. There is a freedom in knowing so many pairs of eyes are watching you. So you ham it up and end up finding so much joy in helping people for a moment forget the gross atrocities we live in today.
As I left the theater, the rain was still falling and my soul craved to continue dancing, to twirl and open my arms wide reaching toward the dark expanse above. But I didn’t.
Already, self-consciousness (and lethargy from dancing for two hours) had overcome me and so I simply walked to the car imagining myself with the energy that I had ten years ago, the wild abandon, the innocence.
This morning, the window was cracked and so the smell of wet earth filled my bedroom. My almost five year old still sneaks into bed with us in the middle of the night and as I turn over, there he is, snuggled deeply under the covers. I lay there and think, relishing in these early moments where my mind is unhindered by tasks and disciplining and lists. I lay there and think about how I could not in a million years have imagined my life where it is now.
I smile. It is not a bad thing.
In this moment, there is nothing more I want than to look at my beautiful child and marvel at all that he is. These are the moments in motherhood that sustain me.
I have needed that sustaining.
In the course of two months we have moved, I have been involved in a time-consuming theater production, and right after papers were signed and time/effort was committed, I found out I am pregnant for the fourth time.
These past two months have drained me of energy and patience. They have jolted my shopping ban because I could not cook food; walking into the kitchen immediately turned into emptying my stomach into the sink. Our home has felt like a fun-house with all the projects and painting. At the end of the day I relished going to rehearsal for a reprieve, and I would get it, but it zapped what little energy I had managed to conserve.
I am at the tail-end of the first trimester (13 weeks, ~3 months) and I feel the weight of these past months lifting. My patience still needs work but I am finding those moments again where I relish in motherhood and in the blessing that this pregnancy is. My joy for it comes in quiet, private moments because pregnancy is still a very anxious event for my heart. But it is there, leaning on the hope and trust in God and His plan for me.
It is not what I imagined when I was 18 years-old, but it is exactly where I want to be now.
Laying in my bed in the morning filled with love for my children and surrounded by the smell of summer rain.
*Photos from a trip to the Oregon Coast in May