Learning to be carried

I had been sitting in that same reclining chair from sun up to sun down. Life seemed to be standing still yet everything was spinning around me. We had a newborn sleeping peacefully down the hall but nothing was how I had envisioned my first experience at motherhood. Blood clots can do that I guess.

It was late and time to go to bed. I dreaded sleep. It was long and painful and not really sleep at all. And the walk down the hall to the bedroom was even worse. That night, the pain seemed more than I could handle. It was beyond my capacity to even speak. As I stood to walk, I crumbled to the ground in tears. Through my sobs and labored breath, he lifted me slowly. I could tell it was hurting him to see me this way. His voice trembled as he asked what he could do. Still, I couldn't get the words out.

He hoisted my hands around his neck, gently scooped me into his arms, and carried me.

Me. The girl who despises being lifted or picked up in any shape or form. He knew that then and he still knows it now. But it was something I needed to learn early on in our relationship…if I am broken, He will carry me.

And he does.

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13 Comments

  1. Isn’t marriage such a beautiful and sacred thing? I love your marriage. As Adam would say, ” You are MFEO.”. I love you amazing woman

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