Every now and then I'm going to feature those women I fiercely admire, the ones who are talking about real life in a real way.
Maybe the lack of sleep and the endless work on the house - Every. Single. Weekend - and the lack of time to ever just BE, just the two of us, maybe the cumulative effect was just too debilitating.
Maybe our roots weren't deep enough when we began. Maybe the kid and the new old house would actually break us.
I said as much, calmer, cooler, close to midnight. Will we break?
And Nick said no. Look, love, look around. Look at the beauty we've made. We've finally dug out from under. We're starting to live in the light.
The first year as new parents is insane in how extreme it all is: extreme exhaustion, extreme bliss, extreme pride, extreme fear, extreme extreme extreme.
It's a lot. It's a helluva lot.
I grin ear to ear every time someone asks me about being a mom, about Kyle, about my sweet, sweet family. But it's also ripped me open in a very strange way. And it's real to wonder if the vulnerability will snap the security in half.
It won't, and when you reach the other side, when the extremes soften into the day-to-day loveliness of parenthood, you'll exhale and realize you didn't break, you are stronger, and you are so proud of who you are and who you're with.