Somehow I’d like to find the words that would summarize this past year. Tomorrow is my Mom’s birthday (Happy Birthday, Mom!!), and I’m printing off my entire 92 pages of Blogging action for her. (I’ll be buying a new printer cartridge today). Zachary’s first birthday is the end of next week, so I feel it would be nice to have a little tidy verbose bow wrapped around this year of my life. I’m not done with my blog, but I am a closure kind of a girl (most specifically a happy ending girl), so let’s just see what I can do.

What began as a way to communicate to the world outside of a hospital room has continued to help me (attempt to) maintain sanity. The fact that a year has come and gone since I lived for seven weeks in a bed really blows my mind. It feels like a blur, and I’m glad I can at least look back and read about what’s gone on. I swear it was just yesterday that I was walking around on post-bed rest legs, and I can’t believe that I’ve already plowed through 12 weeks of therapy! (Am I better yet?!) But then again, it feels like forever ago that I suffered through the beginning of nursing Zach especially as I begin to wean him now. I’m not ready to let go of him being a baby. I’m not ready for him to start walking. I’m not ready to handle his abundance of energy and his spirited strong will. I am ready for life to get easier, but really, does it ever?

The unknown – that’s what I struggle with. For this planning, list-making, calendar-loving girl, the unknown is scary. Again and again in my life, I’ve had the subtle (and not so subtle) reminders that I’m not in control, and yet I still have a hard time handing over the steering wheel (well, the remote control would actually be a more appropriate analogy for me). I’m a work in progress, as we all are. We had friends over for dinner last night, and one asked me, “So how are you doing? Last time we talked you were just getting into the therapy thing and figuring yourself out.” Doh! Am I supposed to have answers then?

Balance. That’s one answer that I do have. Balance is the key to my existence and my mental well-being. Figuring out how to not wear myself down, how to have the right priorities in balance is a tricky dance. In an attempt to really take care of me the last few months I feel like I’ve put some other things aside. I was trying to fill myself up so I had something to give to my family and friends, so I could be a better wife and mother. And yet, in the process, some of the people that I love most have been bumped down my ladder of importance. Like I said, I’m a work in progress, and I will always have enough work to progress on!

There is definitely one constant theme when reading back over my blog – especially during the most trying times (hospital-life and post partum depression strife) – that would be our family and friends. We have been so incredibly blessed with our support system – our people; and I am so grateful. Even in my darkest moments of postpartum depression, when I’ve wallowed in the pit of self-pity, I’ve known that there were countless people that I could turn to. There just aren’t enough words, nor is there enough time, to ever adequately thank you for your love and support.

What’s really fun is as I write this I can immediately see about twenty names that I could address this to. From my nurses in the hospital, to my friends and family that live across the country who lift me up with emails, to my book club girls, our Engaged Encounter friends, my best friends of yester-year and tomorrow, Mike’s coworkers and wives, my Mom friends, Mike’s family, my family, our family...The mush-fest just goes on and on and on. I love you.