THESE TENDER DAYS

Well, the first week and a half after Quinn was born was pretty blissful. I couldn't stop gazing at him. I couldn't stop smiling. Then the virus hit our house, and we started sliding downhill. Nights got worse for everyone. Days got a lot harder, too. Mali has had plugged ears from congestion for 2 weeks. She can't hear, and you wouldn't believe how frustrating this is for everyone. There's a lot more yelling in our house than any of us are used to. There's lots of frustration. Greta has been sick too, so she gets extra sensitive at the end of the day. Quinn even got it, and it has been heartbreaking to watch someone so little struggle like this. I got the virus, but barely had time to notice between nose wipes, tea steeps, and watching three little ones' clavicles and ribs to be sure they were breathing well. At least there was no vomit. That would have been a lot worse. And they all are managing to breath well through it. Oh, and dear Mark has been ever-so-supportive, skipping his busiest day to stay with me after I lay awake at night, overwhelmed. He did not hesitate to sacrifice.

All my photos have been blurry and low quality. I decided this morning that maybe that is telling of my perspective right now: blurry, confusing, surreal. But, on we go. . . letting go of thoughts of tidy rooms, letting go of the guilt I feel when I see my kids watching too many videos, counting and listing the ways we have learned to cope: reading books, playing games in bed, taking baths. . . One of the ways I cope is to notice and latch on to the love I see in our family right now, and hold on to those moments, because that is what reminds me that it's all so worth it. Mali and Greta adore Quinn with sincere, affectionate love. Mark and I are ga-ga over him, too.








So, we've had some pretty hairy moments. We've all snapped at each other more than usual. But today (the fact that I'm sitting here blogging is telling of this) feels like we're turning a corner. I can feel a new day coming, when we're healthy and we find our own new normal.

Now that we're starting to come out of this haze, I can see that it was a gift in at least one way. I was just starting to get restless enough to plan outings and playdates and just generally do more. Well, the onset of the virus forced me to slow down and accept the rest I was needing. It allowed us to be in transition for a little while longer. I'm still reminding myself that all our lives are in transition now and for awhile yet.