Us

When two people love each other, they share their joy, multiply their hope

(words from a poem I wrote for our wedding.)

Those early days after a first baby is born are a pivotal point in a marriage. You turn from facing inwards towards each other, and open up the circle, to look down at another. You stare and are consumed by this new being, and by the time, weeks or months later, when you finally look up at each other again, everything is different. Months, years go by, and you add in another child, or two, and you are stretched further from each other as you welcome in more new life.

They share their pain, divide their sorrow

That bittersweet feeling of knowing you are done having babies.

The first months after Hunter was born, I longed for another baby. I was on fire, I was winning at montherhood with a toddler and a baby. I longed for him not to be my last.

Looking back, that was probably hormones, mixed with those 'easy days' of newborn life. Don't get me wrong- newborns aren't easy- but Hunter felt pretty easy in comparison to Ada's newborn days. I wasn't working, Ada was at care part time, we were given lots of meals and Hunter didn't require much more than snuggles and milk.

Since then, as Hunter has grown and become busier, as I've gone back to work and running a household, I have felt and immense stretch and have met the limits of my capacity nearly every day.