The house is quiet and dark. The sun hasn't even begun to rise, but I have the blinds open so I can watch the sky turn pink. The Christmas lights are glowing softly; I bought colorful lights this year for the first time ever, and it's a decision with which I am quite pleased. There is a cup of steaming coffee and perpetual stack of unread book beside me on the window sill. It's 6:37 am and somehow this baby has taught me how to be a morning person. I can't really say how it happened, but this time feels sacred and peaceful to me.
There's something funny about how my word of the year turned out in 2020, and I'm sure all of us who pick a word of the year could say the same. This year was strange and different for more than just that one obvious way. Every year I am pregnant is strange and different, because pregnancy knocks me off my feet quite literally. I found out I was pregnant just before the quarantine began in the middle of March. My sickness coincided perfectly with John's time away from work, which was a blessing that brings tears to my eyes now, thinking back on it. Easter was the first day I felt really terrible and couldn't pull myself off the couch. The next day, I simply stayed in bed, and I remained in bed for the next 3 months, only getting up to use the restroom.
Even after hyperemesis subsided, I was still nauseous, exhausted, and sore during the second half of my pregnancy. There was a burst of energy right at the turn of the second trimester into the third, but for the most part, I did the bare minimum to survive.
I am a huge believer in refusing to feel mom guilt. I struggle with anxiety, and depression held a raincloud over my life for over a decade, so I know mom guilt intimately. But refusing to lean into it and believe its lies has changed my life. And that's partly why my word of the year and how it's shown up in my life just tickles me.
My word, as you may have guessed by the title, was nourish. When I chose this word, here is what I envisioned: making small choices that would have a big impact on my and my kids' overall emotional and physical health. Choosing outdoor play and books over Netflix. Whole foods over take-out. Saying yes to activities and learning new skills over playing it safe, saying no, and staying home.
Ah yes, go ahead and laugh at that last bit.
Of course, you know without me even saying that staying home, watching Netflix, and eating a lot of take-out is exactly what we did. And even in a more literal way, I could barely nourish myself because I couldn't stomach food. Just food in general. Even after I could pull myself out of bed and do normal things, my body hated food. Eating was an unpleasant activity I participated in strictly because food means energy and sustenance.
I could have felt major guilt over how this past year has gone, but what I realized is that nourish looks different depending on what needs nourishing. This wasn't a year of my kids getting a great education and making new friends at all the activities I signed them up for right before the pandemic (yeah). It wasn't a year of cuddling in my bed to read aloud dozens of great chapter books like I'd imagined, or relying on screens less and spending more time outside.
I had to make choices that were sustaining to me in the moment. For months that meant not even speaking, because simply the act of using my voice would make me gag. It meant we relied on delivery a lot after John went back to work, because I just didn't have the energy to cook wholesome meals, and ordering Domino's on my phone from my bed or eating peanut butter and jelly or yogurt for the fifth day in a row meant my kids got dinner.
When I thought of the word "nourish," I never thought of me lying in bed for days on end, my kids playing hours of video games every day, and eating Domino's for dinner. But it turns out that was just what we needed to get by, and for me to be the best mom I could be for my kids this year.
Nourish has looked completely different for me this postpartum time as well, but in a way I have fully embraced and cherished. My previous pregnancies and labors have really done a number to my pelvic floor health and what my body needed this time was to take a more traditional and counter-cultural route of "rooming in" with my newborn while we recovered from birth and got to know each other. John has been able to take more paternity leave than he ever has before, and I've done little more than lie down with my baby, nurse him constantly, and EAT. Oh my, food is finally good again, and when you haven't enjoyed food for nine months, it tastes amazing.
Wilder and I are coming up on four weeks here, and soon John will return to work and I'll enter a new phase of life as I navigate being a mom of four. Life will look different again, and we will find yet another new normal. How will I nourish my family - and myself - in the coming months? What will I prioritize and in what ways will nourish look completely different than it did this past month... this past year... or before Wilder was in the picture?
I was challenged this year to let nourish be completely different than I envisioned. That's what I love about choosing a word of the year. I've found every year, I am taught something new and unexpected. With COVID numbers rising, John returning to the general public at work, having high-risk family members, not being able to see my brother and sister-in-law this Christmas, not being able to sign my kids up for ballet and ice skating and Ninja Warrior classes like I'd planned to this year, there is a lot of uncertainty, and sometimes I have to breathe through the fear and the tears that threaten to spill. But overall, we have been so so so very blessed this year, and I anticipate what 2021 will bring, not with trepidation, but with hope and peace.
