It won't be like this for long....

Here we go, entering into another glorious weekend. This past Monday, as is the case every Monday, I found myself wishing for.... Friday! There's something about the weekend that sends time into this supersonic speed warp and suddenly, before you know it... Monday sneaks back up on you again.

But, Monday night as I was cuddling Milly and putting her to bed I started thinking: It won't be like this for long! I feel I have made a concerted effort for the last six months to treasure every milestone and hold on to her innocence for as long as possible, but sometimes in my pursuit of Friday I forget that I'm wishing our lives away.

Amelia June turns six months old tomorrow - and that thought nearly takes my breath away. My baby girl is six months old - half way to her one year birth day!!!! In celebration of Milly, I've decide to attempt to put her birth and my experience of it into writing. I'll warn you, this is an impossible task - all you mothers out there know what I mean!!!!

As many of you know Amelia was a much prayed for and desired child. My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage after what seemed like an eternity of trying to conceive. Because of this, much of my pregnancy with Milly was plagued with fear. As you can imagine as I entered the hospital on April 24th to meet my baby girl, the anticipation was great!

My doctors and nurses were nothing short of amazing. After starting my pitocin drip, I began having intense contractions: 45 seconds apart and strong. Before I knew it I was at 6cm - and progressing quickly!!! I'll just say - I was hurting. Anesthesia was my friend and I finally got some relief from my epidural. My pitocin drip was pretty much stopped - and by 5:17pm it was time to push.

Little did I know, but I was pretty good at pushing and a whole 23 minutes later Milly made her grand entrance into the world. There are few moments in life that carry enough importance to take your breath away. I remember clearly in that moment that I couldn't breathe. She was the single most beautiful thing I had every laid eyes on, and she was mine. That moment is tattooed in my mind forever. Immediately I knew something wasn't right. I wasn't allowed to hold her and all of the nurses in the room were suctioning her lungs. She had aspirated on amniotic fluid during my last push. All I could think was "is she ok?" "please tell me she is ok!!!". Tony carried her over to me, and I got to kiss her cheek for the first time. That was the sweetest kiss of my life. I wouldn't hold her for another 7 hours!!!!

It was at that time that I knew I was in a bit of trouble. Little Miss Milly did some damage on her exit/entrance, and the doctors and nurses now began to focus their energy on me. One hour later I was finally stitched up, and recovering. I felt like I had been through war - and it was worth every stitch!

At 1:00am, my nurse finally wheeled my precious girl into the room - and I was able to hold and feed her for the first time. I can only say that this moment defined my life. I looked at that sweet face, and knew I would never be the same. She had changed me. Six months has felt like a blink of my eye....

So, as I find myself wishing for Friday, I will try to remember that "it won't be like this for long". I'm willing to hold onto Monday, if it means I get to hold on to my little angel for a little bit longer. Maybe it's time to stop wishing our lives away and start living them instead!

fact or fiction....

Getting older has this strange way of exposing things for what they really are. Some days I really miss the innocence of being 6 years old and believing in the Easter bunny, Santa, or the tooth fairy.

I remember the first time I found out that people aren't always what they seem. I lost a tooth at age 7 and put it under my pillow for the tooth fairy, only to wake up the next morning with the tooth still there! My poor mother was so tired she forgot to get up, take the tooth, and leave a dollar under the pillow. It took a few minutes to click when my mom told me she was the tooth fairy.... I was crushed.

Obviously, I have moved on from that traumatic experience, but as I get older I find that these moments still happen. Although my eyes are no longer blinded by innocence, and I have come to expect it; I am still bothered when things end up being exposed as fake!

It's these moments, however, that inspire me to be a more honest person. I would hate to think that my pride or perceived shortcomings would hinder someone else's walk. I would hate to think that lack of "something" would cause me to compensate with untruth and run the risk of hurting other people... As a Christian I find this of extreme importance. When we are finally real with ourselves, then we can get real with the rest of the world and most importantly Jesus.

So what - you struggle, you hurt, you're not perfect.... Everyone already knows that!!!

How much better it is to embrace your scars and let God mold you into a beautifully broken individual that brings Him glory! Or, you can choose the opposite and continue to run and hide from yourself. You'll remain a facade, and rest assured, people will find you out.

Take off the mask, make-up, shiny clothes, and fancy jewelry of your life - and get real!