You’re joining us for the final installment of Micah’s birth story and my journey to self-publishing. To catch up on this story and others click HERE.
So here we are, eight months later.
My how time flies the third time around.
Micah is as strong and loud as he was the day I met him, and for the most part he’s stuck to me like glue. To illustrate, I am currently typing this post from my phone, walking through the house with him strapped to my chest while the big boys entertain themselves. These last eight months have been an exercise in creative problem solving and strategizing for sure.
Recovery was pretty horrible this time.
But our family transition could not have been smoother.
At the end of our first week home, we sat down for a family meeting and discovered we were in fact surviving – two of us dead on our feet and two ready to move beyond so much self-directed play – but definitely surviving. Maybe even thriving.
Whatever growing pains the boys felt didn’t last long. By week two, when most children are asking to send their younger sibling back to where they came from, my boys were asking when we could bring another baby home.
They really do adore each other.
There is a knowing that passes through Micah’s entire demeanor when he sees one of his big brothers. These are my people. They know me. I belong with them. And Elijah and Noah respond in kind.
They are helpful and caring. Protective and patient. Any fears I had about adding another boy into the special bond my older two share have melted away. They are made for each other, these three. And as their mother, I have held these moments close. They are precious and mine for the remembering.
The Experience Christmas release did better than I expected.
In my pre-launch reading (something I’m sure from Penny Sansevieri) I came across an interesting statistic that a first-time self-published otherwise unknown author who was actually doing well – would only sell about 100 books. I set a rather audacious goal to sell 300.
The book released two weeks after Micah was born. By the end of December, over 2,500 copies of the book had been distributed. With nearly 2,300 of them free kindle downloads, actual sales were just shy of 300, but it didn’t bother me. I came close to financially breaking even on the project and the fact that it had been placed into so many hands was incredibly rewarding and immensely humbling. God took what little I had to give and did something bigger than I thought possible with. All the thanks be to Him.
We’re on track to finish this school year by mid-June.
This definitely goes down as one of the biggest accomplishments of the year. Our daily routine rarely, if ever, goes as planned – a baby in the classroom is an interesting distraction to handle – but school happens and the boys are doing well.
I read a post my cousin recommended before Micah was born emphasizing the point that the baby IS the lesson. That along with all the math and reading and science there are other stories to tell, other lessons to be learned. How a momma handles stress and change in the ins and outs of her day is valuable observation. It’s this I hope I’ve taught them well.
Postnatal life has resembled some of the change and displacement I felt after becoming a mom the first time.
When Elijah was born I left a job I loved to be home with a baby I knew nothing about. The change was great and the learning curve incredibly steep. By the time Noah was born, I was finding my way in motherhood and growing our little family felt like adding another pea to the pod – minor adjustments, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Because we had just moved into a season of homeschooling, because I had just written a book, because we were so far removed from the baby years, the learning curve has been HUGE again.
How do I go to the grocery store?
How do I teach my kids?
How do I love on a baby when I am so divided?
How do I ever find time to write again?
How do I ever find time to write again?
This one has been a harder question to answer.
Experience Christmas whet an appetite I didn’t know I had for books, and the desire to write has never been stronger. Yet my time and brain space has never been smaller. I have started my second book – one on the complexities of motherhood – but it will be much slower going than the last. When I’ve had a good nights rest and a healthy dose of perspective I can console myself that this is a season. There will be other opportunities. There will always be time to write.
What there will not always be time for is mothering my boys.
More than the first, more than the second, I am struck by how quickly these moments pass and how much I want to hold them close just a little longer.
Those still blue, almost gray eyes.
That slow spreading grin.
The easy nestling he does in my arm before bed.
The pulling and stretching and unbalanced attempts at finding his way maintaining his balance in the safety of my arms.
Those early morning moments watching three little boys giggle their way into their day.
I know I hold him too much. I know someday he will catch on that I’m trying to keep him little just a little longer. But this is the baby of my babies – the final crowning moment of three pregnancies, three births, and thousands of sleepless nights.
I’m determined to enjoy it for as long as I can.