Motherhood Diaries: What a Difference a Year Makes


It was around this time last year — on November 3rd, 2012 to be exact — when I quietly received my final negative pregnancy test and cried in my husband’s arms on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Despite the weather, nothing in my life seemed all that sunny.

Two weeks after that I went on a Thanksgiving yoga retreat and somehow found the strength I needed to take the biggest leap of faith.  I wrote This and That.  I cried a lot.  I prayed a lot.  I let go of a lot.

I found The Girl Who Likes Chicken n’ Dumplings.  I wrote her a letter.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, I started 60 Days On the Mat, which turned into 67 days.

The rest is … sleeping right behind me … on their tummies, breast pump churning in the background as I type.  It’s quite a visual.

All I can think is … what a difference a year makes.


Mama and James

This year has convinced me once and for all that letting go is far better than trying to plan.  I never could have dreamed this up.  Especially the part about me typing and pumping milk simultaneously.  Or the part about me existing on a sleep deficit so high, I’ll be collecting social security before I catch up.

Or the part about two little boys stealing my heart.  Transforming me.

Life tonight is certainly not easier.  In fact, at this exact moment, I would argue that it is the opposite of easier, but also the opposite of empty.

Spending all of that time on the mat has made me miss my mat even more.  It’s the one place I can go to find my center when it keeps getting thrown off.  Yes, my beautiful, adorable little J’s have thrown my center so far off.  In a good way.  They’ve pushed me so far outside of myself, my wants, my desires, my needs are no longer all mine.

Not one thought goes through my mind that does not involve them.  I know we are only given our children for a short while to parent.  We hope in that short amount of time we can give them everything they need to be confident, happy, productive members of society.  I can already tell, I’ll always be balancing that line of doing too much and not enough.

In my adult only existence, I could muddle through the day with little thought of anyone else.  Of course I thought of people I loved, but not like you think about the little people who are dependent on you.

Never like that.

I never really understood this until these helpless little beings looked me in the eye, dependent on us for everything.  Nourishment.  Love.  Security.  Life.   They need us.

This all-consuming, selfless love is unlike anything I have ever known.


KK holding Jackson

What I realized for the first time over the past eight weeks is I need them as much as they need me.  They make me the best me.  Maybe I’m sleep deprived, but this Terry is far better than the one sitting on the couch a year ago.

I now sit at my desk — no longer pumping.  Action Jackson is leaning into me, asleep.  I love the feeling of all of their weight releasing into me as they fall asleep.

I have watched them transform our lives in the short time they have been here.  Not just the obvious lives of me and my husband — but our parents.  Our aunts and uncles.  Our family and friends — and even our littlest cousins, Rachel and Levi.

They are pure love.  Angels.


James and Jackson
Brotherly Love

No one seems to be able to get enough of these babies.

Most especially their Mama.

Somehow all of This and That — led me here to This.

Yes, what a difference a year makes.


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