1 Mother 2 Another

We spend every Thanksgiving with my husband’s large family, and one of our traditions just before dinner is to go around the table saying one thing that we’re thankful for.  I still remember the year my nephew Nick said, “I’m thankful for Nana’s mashed potatoes.”  When his mother looked at him sharply, unsure if he was mocking, he said, bewildered, “Well who wouldn’t be thankful for her mashed potataoes?”  With 22 people at said table, you’d think the kids would get impatient, but by the end there’s more than one misty eye in the room.

This year I’ve been thinking about what I’d say; how do I narrow it down to one thing?  A healthy daughter, obviously.  A healthy me, certainly.  But that’s just the tip of the iceberg here.  Two weeks before Madeleine’s due date, we discovered our rental house was being sold and it seemed a move for us was imminent.  But by God’s grace and with a couple of actual miracles, we’ve ended up owning the house ourselves; we closed on it when Maddie was 9 weeks old. 

Still not done with the reasons to be thankful. 

Brian’s company asked him to start working from home to save on office rent.  He started one week before I was put on bed rest, five weeks from her due date.  I’ve got a husband who works from home (a home that we own!) and a healthy baby girl.

Still not done!  Here’s a few more – 

A mother who lives two blocks away and is always willing to babysit or grocery shop or whatever needs to be done.  A job that has allowed me to return to work as much or as little as I want.  Five girlfriends this year who gave birth to their own healthy beautiful babies.  A friend whose suspicious shadow on her lung turned out to be nothing.  Family willing to make the trek up here to meet their newest relative.  Family eager to do whatever they can long-distance to help us out with Maddie.  Friends who went grocery shopping right before and after Maddie was born.  Family who took our laundry to the Laundromat when our washer broke down and Madeleine was three weeks old.  Friends who let me call them at 2 a.m. and sob on the phone in a post-partum funk.  Girlfriends at the ready with support and encouragement.  And last but not least, a husband who wholeheartedly supports the choices I make as a mother and a wife, who encourages me and loves me, c-section scar and all.  I believe the words I am looking for are, Thank you, God.