At Joe's doctor's appointment today, he finally got past his birth weight. This was the first appointment we have gone to in which the doctor was thoroughly satisfied with Joe's growth.
It's been a long three weeks. But today I felt such relief in hearing that weight, in knowing he's grown an inch and a half (btw, that should not be allowed. who is he trying to compete with? his Uncle Andrew?). It made all the hard work worth it.
But it wasn't my work alone. Robert has stayed up late when he had early meetings, giving Joe his extra feedings. Robert held me when I cried, thinking I could not produce enough milk to feed my baby.
My mom got up around the clock with me Joe's first few days, helping me feed him constantly, giving me a chance to pump. She also ran our errands, cleaned our house, and kept me going.
A small group from church filled my house with snacks. I mean filled. I came home to a huge pile of every snack food you can imagine.
Our church brought us meals every other day (you feed Mom, you feed Joe).
My sister helped calm Joe so he could sleep well, meaning he could eat well.
My in-laws spoiled Joe, got us groceries, ran to the store for me.
My church small group prayed everyday that Joe would gain weight and I would rest well.
I had friends come over, pick things up, make returns to stores, do my dishes, watch my tears, make me laugh.
And countless others pitched in.
It took a village. But we got there.
I am so, so grateful to every single one of you who did us a favor, said a prayer for us, sent me a text that I could do this, and did not judge the fact that I have worn nothing but yoga pants covered in baby goo for 3 weeks (btw, will I wear real pants again? it does not seem possible. i cannot even explain what's going on with my body right now, but that's another story).
Welcome to the world, Sweet Joe. It's full of hate and sin and horror, but we find grace and love in it every day because God is faithful.