Full Hands

I found this post yesterday on another grieving mother's blog and nearly fell out of my seat as she did SUCH a good job describing what I have been thinking non-stop since Myla came home to live with us.  I am sure there are many grieving parents just like us who are thinking this same thing. Have I written about this before?  I honestly can't remember.

When I introduce myself or meet new people and I tell them about my three children who are 3 and under, I always hear the same thing, "You've got YOUR hands full!"...usually accompanied by an evil little laugh.  "I do", I always respond.  I DO HAVE MY HANDS FULL.  What's so funny to me is that people think that having my hands full is the story that defines me, and of course, it is part of my definition.  But, obviously, what defines me just as much is the part where my hands aren't as full as they are supposed to be.  Also the part where my hands were full and then they weren't anymore for a full year.  Also the part where "having my hands full" is what saved my life from losing my entire full heart and then having it break into 5,000,000 pieces.  

The snickering that comes after hearing that my youngest two are only 9.5 months apart seems to insinuate a "better you than me" vibe and carries a somewhat "sucks to be you" quality.  And, yes, it is crazy hard MOST of the time.  On the other hand - it is exactly what I prayed for when the other thing happened that really made it suck to be me.  And, often, when I am thinking "I can't do this any more because it is too hard", I remember that what I did before this current round of full hands came to be (lying around all day crying, not getting out of bed, wearing the same sweat pants every day for a year, strategizing how I'd make it through the next hour....) and I realize that what I am doing now is actually NOT "too hard".  Too hard was taking my child off life support. I actually don't imagine that anything will ever be too hard again.

My days go by quickly and I have a million things to do.  I am on a constant trip to and from my kids' school in an endless cycle of drop offs and pick ups.  I do 100 loads of laundry a week and that doesn't include all of the laundry that my mother-in-law does for us (the amount of laundry is simply CRAY-ZEE!!!!!).  The hours between 5:30 am - 9 am and then again from 6pm - 8:30 pm are completely nuts and we hardly have time to pause to think about whether we are doing this all right or not.  But, our hands are full again!  

Thank god.