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A Personal Post on Postpartum | Bring Me Back Here

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coming out of the postpartum cloud + finding new perspective

Writing, along with capturing moments, has always been a form of healing for me.

A way to shift my perspective, alter my reality, or in some cases bring me back to the some-days-awesome, some-days messy, reality I get to call mine.

I’ve debated over and over writing this blog –  but because so many of my clients and friends are or have found themselves in this very season I’m emerging from, I knew it was time.

Time to say you’re not alone.

Time to press in, to be real,

to get honest with myself about pursuing a perspective shift that will not only awaken me, but in hopes to encourage other mamas out there.

To write and breathe not from a place of perfection, but of purpose.

To come out by saying postpartum is real, and it sucks.

It’s messy, it’s crippling – but it’s no where close to the end.

In fact, for me it was the start of a new awakening.

In some of the deepest moments of my darkness the second time around when my youngest was born, I no longer hid from the depths of postpartum, I welcomed them.

I welcomed them because I knew that in some way, hiding from them would only catapolt me into greater bondage.

I faced them. I allowed myself time to heal.

I was still long enough to hear The Lord’s heart for His Daughter through the depths, and the beautiful song that He sang over me through those times.

And the song that I’m singing to you, wherever you are, or may be in this season of motherhood.

.

.

.

Lord bring me back here

In the moments I believe that my success, followers, career, or my desires are my why,

Bring me back here.

In moments when I doubt my purpose or question my pursuit.

On the days where I feel I’m falling short and question the life we’ve created for them, bring me back here.

To a moment when all they want is to be close to my heart, or to push away my kisses in hopes to chase their own will.

Bring me back here.

Bring me back here, as the tears come on days I feel like my best isn’t enough,

bring me back to this gentle place, where we are all they need.

Bring me back here.

Where my fingers can trace the round rosy cheeks that are chapped by Michigan’s winter, bring me back here.

Where tiny arms are wrapped around baby brother as she comforts him, the way she’s learned to be comforted.

Where clenched sweaty fists are the reminder that we are the safety they long for in a day where the world often feels like it’s falling apart.

Bring me back here.

Where for a moment the chaos of that world stops, and the world we were meant to live in rises up from deep in my soul,

knowing this is a glimpse inside The World we were truly made for.

Bring me back here,

Where the remanence of long lashes fluttering mean dreams and visions that will someday turn into their passions and calling.

Bring me back here,

Past the cloud of postpartum when squeals of a newborn, cause something in his toddler sister to grab mommy’s phone and take a photo that will make mommy cry, because in that moment, all mommy needed was right in front of her.

Bring me through – and bring me back here.

as the gentle fist that cling ever tighter as I breathe, will someday push away my love.

Oh Lord, please even then,

Bring me back here

To these moments.

To this moment.

To this still silent moment I often rush though as bedtime with 2 can get lost in the chaos of prioritizing my marriage and dare I say my Netflix or scrolling calling.

Lord In the seasons of striving, or when self doubt screams louder than Your still soft voice, bring me back here.

And then still, in the days of abundance and adventure, bring me back here.

To pause, to breathe to reset.

Bring me back here.

To The place of grace, to the end of me, and the start of You.

Where my weakness meets your strength when we need it most.

Bring me back here.

Where my best was never meant to be enough, but only a love I give through the overflow and pursuit of My Creator will be.

The Love that allows me to fiercely break through my walls of doubt and discouragement, to find the peace and rest my soul needs.

Bring me back here.

To him.

to her,

to You,

and to the one next to me, holding my hand when the days are long, but the years are shot.

Always always, bring me first back to that man.

And then once again, the gentle reminder to pause.

To pause and take life for the magnificent roller coaster, yet ever changing and constant ride that it is.

Bring me back here.

photo credit:

Luella Mager | Trainee 😉

Dayna Mager | Dayna Mae Photograghy

Rachel Shomsky | Rachel Shomsky Photography

Brit Hueter | BAM Photo

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