…if we rummage through the past sometimes it serves us well in our futures.

Breaking the rules.

As I write this, I’m breaking every rule with our 8 month old son, Parker, and I’ll never regret it. Parker should have eaten and should be sleeping in his bed, but honestly, I don’t care. I have a friend coming over, a house that needs vacuumed, and myself to get together… But it’s not the end of the world if there is a crumb on the floor and who cares if I’m disheveled inside my own home.

Our neat and organized schedule with the twins kept us functioning years ago when they were babies but I missed out on the time of just letting them fall asleep on me. Something I will never be able to get back and a lesson I have now learned.

Having to stop is a good thing.

Inside of me there is this deep desire to soak up as much of Parker as possible at this age. I don’t want to look back and regret that I cleaned my house instead of holding my baby because I’ll never be able to get this back.

As I sit here and listen to Parker’s little breaths I’m reminded of how lucky we are. I reflect on our stay in the NICU with him and how it became so normal holding him while entangled with cords and tubes attached to him. It makes moments like this so incredibly sweet.

I have to admit for some reason I will wake in the night, grab the monitor, zoom in on him, and check to make sure his chest is rising. I listen hard for his breaths and I still listen intently to make sure his breaths aren’t too quick. Sounds crazy, right? It wasn’t until recently I realized why I probably do this.

When we first came home with Parker after being in the NICU with respiratory distress, I remember asking my husband to check on Parker to make sure he was breathing okay. I never thought 8 months later I’d still have this underlying fear. It’s like there is some form of PTSD within me.

This past weekend my husband and I sat down to share the birth stories of Landen, Caroline, and Parker with the March of Dimes. The interview stirred emotions inside of me that I didn’t know were so deeply buried. Moments of flash backs, sadness, disappointment, stress, and anxiety all came rushing back. I found myself exhausted after the interview and also more aware of the hold their birth stories have on me. I now know why I have those moments of fear.

While it became difficult to talk about the birth of our children, the memories are sobering. They almost leave me feeling more grounded and serve as a reminder of what’s truly important ( the snuggles, the hugs, the smiles, and laughter) which is a reminder I was in need of.

Dealing with our experiences in life can be so difficult -but I think if we rummage through the past sometimes it serves us well in our futures.

Hoping your week is going well.

Xo

Danielle

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