What Peace Does

"But after it's all done... Oh my gosh, it's so worth it!"

I've heard it a million and three times. I'm sure it's true... But right now--right now it's just hard. 

I mean, I sit here in my 5 room apartment (it's just me and Joshua here, by the way) and see 1000 things that need to be done. The laundry should be put away. Folded would be nice. There's a pair of jeans that came out of the dryer a bit damp still hanging over a chair. The humidifier tank is sitting full on the floor. Two empty laundry baskets clutter the floor. Bills are stacked on the table. Rolls of wrapping paper still lean on the crates by the counter. The coffee table is askew. The hatboxes that belong underneath it have taken on a new home near the chair. Four DVD cases sit on them... I'm not sure if all the discs are there. Dinner--I haven't made that in days. Weeks, maybe. Dishes pile. There's an empty bag on the floor near the table. Nothing has been cleaned properly in weeks. I'm sure I was the last one who vacuumed, though that was nearly a month ago. 

And that's just the living room. 

I haven't packed Joshua a lunch in two weeks either. Sometimes I'll set a bit of food aside in the fridge for him to snag with his other things in the morning. But it's not the same. I used to get up with him at the dark and early hour of 6:30am. And I enjoyed it. 

But now I sit on the couch reading a book so that I don't have to think of all the things I am too tired to do. When I go to work I wonder if I can make it through the day, and then once I do I come back home exhausted beyond comprehension. 

I was crying the other night once Joshua came home. I had him come and hold me and I told him all the things I wanted to do, but couldn't. To me, not being able to take care of my home, my family, my husband, is the worst thing. Maybe even to be compared to the way a good man might feel if he were unable to work to support his family for any reason or another. 

I told him all this and I cried.... 

And I cried....

He came to me as I lay in bed that night. He told me he had been angry that he was the only one doing things, but he realized now that I wasn't purposely letting everything go. He apologized to me. He told me that I was doing something too. I was loving him. I was carrying and growing our baby. I was doing things about the house when I wasn't too weak or too sick. And then he let me hold him, because he was crying. 

I knew he had been angry. It pained me nearly as much as being unable to do my job of caring for him and my home. But I couldn't do anything. When he came to me I felt such peace. 

I'm still exhausted. My darling little Charlie takes nearly every ounce of nutrition and energy and balance I have. But my husband is in this with me now too. And that peace--what came from him recognizing I'm doing the best I can--has allowed me to rest inside my soul enough that I feel able to do something again...even though I can't do much or I'll probably break another toe or end up in the bathroom over the toilet again. 

He brought home our date last night. (: He went to our favorite Chinese place and picked up my two favorites. Then he set up a big screen in the living room and we watched a movie cuddled together on the couch in our little home. 

My husband is a good man. He loves me. He cares for me. And he makes me feel special. I'm so proud to call him my husband. And, Charlie, he is going to be the most amazing Daddy you could ever hope for.