We had a Birth Day Party
My sweet, angel-baby niece was born in Texas one week ago!
Happy one week, Evie B! You are so loved!
Last week, as my sister’s one-million hour labor began, I felt that familiar sensation in my tear ducts as my heart stretched to another hemisphere. I haven’t seen my little sister-mama in five years. We’ve both reproduced since then! As sweet Evie-baby was slowly making her way into the world, I was having sympathy pains, speaking nonsense, and chucking my to-do lists out the window. We were having a baby. It just could not be a regular Tuesday.
I put the Help Club for Mom’s audiobook in my ears to borrow wisdom and perspective from other moms while I pushed Benjamin around the neighborhood. I heard their Scriptures and stories in bits and pieces while my mind raced. At the end of that walk with those moms (in my ear buds), I made a decision.
First, I remembered:
• I am not the only human on this planet whose desires and realities do not align in every moment of the day.
• I am not the only one who has felt capsized by her own emotions.
• I am not alone, even in the most extraordinary circumstances. Because my circumstances are not who I am.
I decided to live according to my values, not my emotions. I want my home to know my heart, not my hype.
I don’t want my home and my people to be casualties of circumstances. There’s no security in that. I dug down deep, past my thoughts and feelings, to consider why my reaction was so strong. It was as simple as this: I love to celebrate my family. I love to honor the lives of those that I treasure. I am a commemorator of moments and milestones. And I punctuate life with parties.
I could feel crazy and out of control because I lived so far from my sister. Or I could have a birth day party! I could throw Evie B a party instead of throwing myself a pity party (which usually looks like secret chocolate and crying in the shower).
Our home reverberated with excitement. Choosing joy is contagious. Choosing celebration over sorrow left a mark on us all.
Also, it should be known that Evie still wasn’t born when we went to bed on Tuesday night. I may or may not have (loudly) declared: “No one is eating cake until I see a picture of a baby!” We had cake for breakfast on Wednesday morning and stared at a perfect baby girl!
