My husband and I have been sleeping in different beds.
Not by choice, but by necessity.
Last night (and the night before, and before) he had Levi with him in the guest bedroom and I had Judah with me in our room.
Both kids sick. Both of us exhausted.
All of us needing each other in different ways for comfort and care and reassurance.
And this comes after eight days of being on my own with the kids. (With Judah being up all night, every night. Not exaggerating.)
Which comes after seven days of camping during which both Ryan and I were working (teaching) full time. (And babies not sleeping – see a theme here?)
Which comes after working overtime solving crises at work, and… you get the idea.
You know all too well what I’m talking about… you’ve been there too.
We all have.
Life sometimes deals us circumstances beyond our personal control, and for us that means we’ve not had a day “off” in a month and our bodies are bearing the brunt of our labor.
Being a parent isn’t easy in times like these…
When the littles are sick. When the bigs are sick.
When life won’t slow down enough for everyone to get caught up.
I remember as a young 20-something talking about “catching up on my sleep” on the weekends when I’d sleep until 11am.
It doesn’t exactly work that way any more. And that’s okay. Hard, yes, but okay.
And despite my (at times) fierce independence, it’s times like these that I’ve learned to let people know I need help.
Because I. need. help. desperately.
And friends have pulled through.
They are praying. They are encouraging me and telling me things like “you’ve got this, Adriel”. They are whisking away laundry baskets full of dirt and bringing them back clean. They are even bringing dinners (twice this week!).
They are amazing.
They obviously have been there, in some form or another.
And I know there’s nothing “special” about this place I’m temporarily in.
Every mama that has ever been knows the struggle and the heartache of seeing their little ones unwell. (Some know the pain of it far, far, far more than I do.)
And every mama that has ever been also knows there comes a time when the I-can-do-it-because-they-need-me adrenaline begins to wane and the proverbial wall suddenly looms dark and heavy.
Perhaps that’s why these mama-friends have been so quick to intervene and help lighten my load.
And perhaps my frantic prayers and tears and cursing under my breath in moments where I was stretched beyond capacity really was heard by God and he sent his angels to lift my own tattered wings a little.
In the face of my back aching and my eyes burning and my belly rumbling from my own neglected hunger cues, my heart is lifting knowing that…
I. am. not. alone.
There are other mamas right there in the trenches with me.
They’re wearing the same uniform as me.
They’ve got my back and they’re holding my hand.
And they’re loving my little family better than I can love them on my own.
It takes a village, friends. It really does.
Dear friends, when’s the last time you were acutely aware of your need for a village?
P.S. I wrote this post last week in a desperate 15 minute attempt at writing. Of course I didn’t have time to actually edit and post it until now… but rest assured, we are all better now. No longer drowning. Just treading water… and hoping to swim again soon. Oh, and we are all sleeping in our own beds again. Mostly. 🙂