Wednesday, August 8, 2012

.3 months - gone.

it was a crazy weekend. crazy!!!
the hot husband got snipped. yes, snipped
the thursday before my baby shower.
scheduling conflict much?
why did you have a baby shower for your 4th kid you ask?
am i some gift grubbing chick that people write to "ask amy" about?
reason - when you have 4 children of the same gender by kiddo #4 your stuff is rags.
and what isn't rags is stained.
and what isn't a stained rag is broken. 
and what isn't a broken, stained rag is ugly crap.
kidding. (no, i'm not.)
so anyway, because people love me & the muffin they decided to throw a shower.
amazing. so blessed. and totally felt the love.
but then the husband scheduled his snipping for that thursday.
i knew a man cold was coming in a way i never had experienced before. 
and boy did it.
but that's another post.
another post that i will never write because the flash backs of changing "dressings" are too traumatic.
soooo... back to the shower.
i had to bring the 3 girlies with me.
when 8 months pregnant.
and on partial bed rest.
because everyone i knew was at the shower, so no one to watch the girlies.
it was nutty & wonderful & i ate like 25 of those chicken roll-up things from sam's club.
and 2 pieces of cake.
and brought extra cake home.
but i digress...
i was so overwhelmed at the love for the muffin & the generosity of my family & friends.
the little muffin got hooked up! 
cute clothes galore!!
i clearly remember how stinking excited i was to have a new girlie in my arms to munch on & smell & dress up. so excited to watch my 3 big girls love on the muffin & include her into their very special sister club. oh, the adventures i had planned for us 5 gals after the baby came & while daddy was at work... i had a clear vision in my head of what awesomeness lay ahead. 
last night at 11:30pm i realized we had no clean bibs. mom fail. extra bonus mom fail when your kid has major reflux & goes thru bibs like mommy goes through zoloft.
(lame joke - sorry.)
so i'm standing there throwing 5 pounds of bibs into the washer & realize i need to grab some more onesies to wash.
she goes through them equally as fast.
i then realize i need to grab the rest of the clothes i never took the tags off of. there is a box right outside the laundry room over flowing with clothes. they all have the tags on. a sweet reminder of the love of my family & friends & a shower that left me warm and fuzzy and stuffed full of goof food and so, so grateful.
"3 months" the tag reads.
i start clipping the tags off. "3 months." "3 months." "3 months."
the words are suddenly blurry.
hot tears stream down my face.
i've missed them. i've missed the first 3 months of her life. things are a blur. and not the i have a newborn & am freaking exhausted blur. no, i have experienced normal blur. this is so vastly different. this is so grievously different.
as i sit on the floor right outside the laundry room crying my heart physically aches. i feel robbed. 
i want it back. my girlie is almost 3 and a half months old and i'm missing it. 

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