I saw an Instagram post from an older mom with a newborn. She was talking about how sad it made her that her son would never remember her falling in love with him every night. I totally get it. It doesn’t make me sad anymore to think of how these times we had are not remembered. Anymore I just feel like those nights were my special gift from God in heaven. He was there with me too filling me with so much love.

I wonder sometimes if it would make the dads jealous. It’s not like we don’t love them. It’s just not the same overpowering physiological drive. To be close. To kiss constantly. To feel like this person is the light of your world.

Well anyway I don’t have to worry about that. I was finishing my grid this afternoon and reviewing my power point slides from April. Thank the Lord I had done that. I had a slide in there, in one of the self-in-process sections, about grieving my past seasons of life, particularly in relation to being a mom. It had a nice little picture of nature, but it no longer felt relevant so I deleted it. I replaced it with a simple summary.