The days since talking to Jennifer have been better. I have smiled and laughed without trying. It's nice. I'm slowly processing things. I think the sadness was not so much post partum depression as trauma related to my birth experience. I'm getting closer to understanding as I write, talk and think about it. Today I had lunch with our childbirth teacher / doula. I went to the restaurant nervous with prayers under my breath. I didn't want to offend, but I had questions. It turned out to be a profitable hour of honesty and truth. I'm getting closer. As I figure things out, I feel lighter.
This week I've spent good time with my sister-in-law, Chelsea. She's 23 and is experiencing God for the first time in her life. She is addicted to her bible and reads it throughout the day. When she doesn't understand something she reads it aloud and inquires of it's meaning. The other day we ended up with four different translations open on the dining room table as we tried to figure out a parable in Luke. Her new interest in the bible is contagious. It's been ages since I wanted to open my bible. Instead I usually go to my hymnal. The words of the old songs capture my heart when verses are familiar and stale. Today I went to Proverbs 31 and slowly read the verses, trying to soak them in. I even used some cross references. It was nice.
Before Melody was born I daydreamed of being a mother who spent early morning times with God. I pictured of myself drinking coffee, reading, pondering and praying in a dimly lit breakfast area before the others were awake. This idea is appealing and I want to figure out a way to make it happen.