Reality

The euphoric feelings of newborn baby happiness have officially ended and left me in a puddle of tears. I cry over anything now, be it silly, stupid, or sad. I cried at the dinner table last night. I cried when the baby cried. I know this is "normal". I know I'm not depressed. I know this will pass. I'm just sleep-deprived.

My husband and I frequently look at each other with panic in our eyes... do we really have four children???!!!

My husband is such a trooper. He does the dishes, puts the girls to bed, rocks baby in the night, but I can tell the exhaustion is settling on him as well. It shows in our patience with one another, with the girls. Add to that, he's stuck at home with no job, little money.

I hope I don't sound too whiny, just stating the reality of it all.

Last night I hit "The Wall". You know, when you come to the end of your strength, your sanity, your ability to cope.

I recently saw a film in which "The Wall" is described perfectly. It was a particularly poignant scene, one that I will remember. The main character is running a marathon, but has sprained his ankle within the first half mile. He decides to finish anyway because he has never finished anything in his life. As he gets within 20 feet of the finish line, he falls. Up to this point, he has had a crowd of people following behind him, cheering him on. But as he's lying on the ground, two nay-sayers (they have money on him that he won't finish) begin telling him he's a quitter, stay down, you'll never finish. The scene flashes to what he's seeing in his mind. He is standing before a brick wall which stretches as far as he can see. As he looks behind him, he is totally alone. In his mind's eye, he sees a brick being pushed out of the wall. He looks through the hole to see himself on the other side, beckoning to come.

I could relate so well. There are times when you hit that wall and you feel totally alone, isolated. When in reality, there are many around you who are cheering you on, seen and unseen. The voice of the Accuser is right there with you at the weak point, telling you to stay down, you're just a failure, you are NOT fit to be a mother. A hole appears in the brick facade and you see the One beckoning to you to come to Him.
I imagine Him saying to me, "Come all you who are weary... and I will give you rest."

Yesterday morning, when I was more chipper, I read in Romans 8 this verse:

"Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses.

For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought,

but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us

with groanings which cannot be uttered."

~ Romans 8:26 ~

I wished I could have held on to that in the evening when I was at my lowest. When I could hardly even whisper Jesus' name. Dear God, help me.

I know this will pass. There will be a new moment after this one.

And then I'll probably forget about all the dramatic blubbering I did.

And then I'll be sad that the wee baby days are over.

If my posts get sappier, just bear with me! ;-D

~christa jean