They say it takes a village to raise a child and I have to say, THEY are right. This might come off a little spoiled and bratty sounding, but truthfully, I am so lucky and blessed at this time in my life and I just want to share that with the world!
Rory made her appearance into this world at 11:10pm on March 4th via surprise c-section. I will post her birth story another day- it's long and involved, and slightly humorous in that 'Only in Guatemala' kind of way. This is more about the days since then. My beautiful and amazing sister, who I admittedly didn't treat very nicely growing up but have loved for years and years now, arrived on Saturday afternoon and I do not know what I'm going to do when she leaves on Monday. She has been more of a God-send then she was before, and that's saying a lot. Despite being the 'little' sister, Sissy has always been far more responsible than me. She's level-headed and calm, amazing with money and has a great head for business. She's dedicated and loyal and if she's your friend, she's your Friend. There is nothing she won't do for you. When Mom died, she took care of everything. She's still taking care of things, even now. So when she flew in on Saturday, I knew that she was going to take care of me and her new little niece and she has not proven me wrong.
I can stop right here and admit that it might not have even occured to me to do this for my sister. I'm not saying I'm a terrible person, but I just don't think like she does. For starters, I love my sleep. Giving it up has always been a HUGE sacrifice for me to make (though I know that's all changing now), so offering to possibly be awake all night with someone else's child is probably not something that would cross my mind. Second, if I did offer to stay up and I said I was going to take the kid up at 1 or 2am, I would definitely take the kid up, especially one that had apparently been screaming her head off for hours.
But not my sister. She shoo'ed me back to bed, said she had it under control, and proceeded to stay up the rest of the night, soothing, feeding, and changing my child. All while Dave and I slept.
I am blessed. I have known that since I started liking my sister, somewhere around the time I went to college. I hope that I am able to do as much for her as she does for me... and even if I can't (because she really does A LOT for me), I hope she knows how very much I love her.
I cannot imagine how the women of yester-year did it. Or anyone without constant support these first few days and weeks. Single mothers blow my mind. Women whose husbands have to go right back to work astound me. I'm spoiled enough to have my sister here, a maid/nanny who comes three times a week and a husband who is as in love with this kiddo as I am and is eager and happy to get to know her and to take care of me at the same time. I'm sore and tired and don't have to lift a finger if I don't want to. Of course, I want to- it's hard to accept that I am recovering from major surgery, especially because women have c-sections every day. It's hard to ask for help or let people help me when I think I should be able to do it by myself. But I can't do everything by myself and I am lucky enough not to have to.
All of this doesn't even take into account the friends and family from around the world who have wished us well, told me how beautiful my baby is (she is), and offered or already brought food. It's just amazing to feel so loved and, well, I'll say it again- blessed.
This post has taken over 3 hours to write. I understand why my mom-friends don't get on facebook so much anymore...
Thank you, God. Thank you.