Three Weeks of Bedrest

Almost 3 weeks of bedrest. That's crazy to think that it has been that long, and that short. 

Week one, Jacob was home from work and basically cleaned our entire house. He is a servant, a leader, and totally gorgeous pushing a vacuum and taking care of our girls. That week was mere preparation for my Aunt to come in town the following week. Good thing I had nested so early before, because I had a guest room ready for her. One less thing that Jacob had to take care of. 

Week two, my completely selfless, beautiful, loving Aunt came in to town to help. When I say Aunt, I want you to hear "Mom". She raised me. She is Mom, but technically, Aunt. The first day that she was here, when Jacob went back to work, I had a little bit of an emotional breakdown. Beau didn't understand what was happening with so much change all at one time. She cried and cried most of the day when I couldn't do much for her. Then when she crawled in her highchair for a snack, she looked up at me with her deep brown eyes and said, "momma. hi." in the sweetest little voice like she hadn't seen me all day.  

That's when I lost it. The tears came, and honestly, I had a hard time stopping them. I realized how much I had missed her. Missed our quality time together. Please don't take it as me being ungrateful for help. My Aunt is a saint, and I loved every minute of her being here. I just missed my time with the girls. Everything was different, and was going to be different for a while. Maybe a good cry is just what I needed. 

This is when I felt the crossroads. I had a decision to make. The next several weeks could be really hard. They could be boring, stressful, and full of missed opportunities. 

Or. 

I could look for the "hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that [I] may know that [He is]  the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons [me] by name." Isaiah 45: 3

So that's what I decided for week three of bedrest. Now I'm on a quest. A search. A journey of seeking out His face that I know lingers in the stillness. The only thing is that the stillness is surrounded by chaos. It's like a deep rooted tree that I'm trying to walk towards during the middle of a hurricane. 

People make comments, the internet assumes, and honestly I assumed as well that I would have so much time to read my Bible, listen to audio books, and a plethora of other calming activities. "Rest while you can!" they say. This is not the case. It looks like relying on a lot of people to do things that I normally do. While I just sit. It looks like getting winded from just walking to the bathroom. It looks like desperately wanting to take the girls for a walk, but settling with sitting outside in a lawn chair while the girls run around. It looks like having contractions from sitting up to try to help fold laundry. It looks like weekly doctor appointments and taking all measures to make sure that this boy stays in me as long as possible. It looks like taking medicine that makes me feel so crummy - enough side effects that make having a premature baby sound not so bad. It looks like every minute that I would normally have had for free time to read books and whatnot, is just more intentional time with Beau making sure that she is occupied and not getting in to things in the house, or time with Ry doing school. I've been referring to it as "Project tire Beau out". It looks like people coming over to help entertain the girls and keep them busy because I can't.

And boy am I glad that I have those other people! They are all angels! How did I get so blessed? We have people bringing us meals and people signed up to come help chase Beau around in the mornings so that I can just have them in the afternoons before Jacob gets home from work. This is the church. The picture of the body of Christ laying down their life for another. I don't even know how to express my gratitude. 

Week three, you have had your challenges. 

I have had to balance the scales of mommy guilt and complete trust, of longing and contentment.

I've had to sort through the heart complexities of being still and feeling lazy, of missing out and being present.

I will continue to sort through it, expectantly looking for the treasures, and secrets, and growth, and opportunities.