What Would I Give

In a true moment of idealistic lunacy, I had decided that it would be really cool to blog my way through the first few days of Eliot’s life. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that it is really hard to write a complete sentence, let alone intelligent prose, when you are exhausted.

What I can tell you is that it is 11 o’clock at night. I’ve had coffee with a breakfast tea chaser. I’m sitting in a darkened hospital room on the really uncomfortable couch/bench/drawer thingy that has served as my bed for the past few nights. Our room is tucked back into a corner in the CBC, so it’s really quiet and since it’s so quiet I’m acutely aware of sounds. I obviously hear the tip tap of my laptop as I type this; I hear Pandora playing softly underneath me (The Grand Archives station), and the soft sound of Lib breathing as she sleeps with the blue glowing ball that is Eliot on her chest. The machine that he is hooked up to makes a very soft whirring sound, almost unintelligible, and other than that, it’s just quiet.

I’ve taken a bunch of pictures with my phone while sitting here watching her sleep with his little bundle and I’m trying to capture something. I’m not even sure what it is that I’m trying to get, but I’m pretty sure that it has something to do with peace. There is just an overwhelming sense that everything is right in the world and that here, at least for a few minutes, we are safe from all of the craziness and noise and bustle of our existence. (except for the fire alarm that went off in the CBC earlier tonight, that was definitely NOT quiet)

The funny thing is that I feel guilty. Jack and Charlotte have had their little worlds turned upside down, and they need for us to come home and tend to the details of being 3 and 5. The need us to change pull ups and to listen to stories about kindergarten and to play lego’s and watch Tom and Jerry and kiss boo-boos and to have tickle wars and play chase. I feel guilty that I’m enjoying this quiet so much. It’s just that I have waited for these few days for so long, that I’m not quite ready to let them go quite yet. The more I sit here and think about it, the more I’m driven by this bit of angst to do something about it. After all, I’ll always preach the sermon about being proactive

It drives me to work even harder to ensure that our home is a place of peace. While I know that the reality of life is hustle and bustle, I do believe that underneath it all, our home can and should be a place of peace. I’m not naive, I know it’s a challenge. There are myriad circumstances that make it a daily exercise, but by making the exercise daily, maybe one day we’ll learn how to do it, do it well, and live richly as a result.

Thanks for the lesson little man. You and your mommy teach me well. I’ll do my best to listen.