I am very happy. (So is Vivi.)
And for the first time in a very long time I am not listening and waiting for the other shoe drop.
It feels so good.
If I could give you all a hit of how good I feel right now? You’d beg me to be your dealer.
When I look in the mirror I see happy. When I see pictures of myself, I see happy.
I look good happy, even if no one else sees it. *I* see it.
I don’t see the constant ponytail and 11 week postpartum belly.
I know I weigh 40 pounds more than when I got married and that I only fit in clothes that are generously sized, elastic and machine washable.
But none of this really matters to me right now.
I see this time in my life where everything is so wonderful.
This is real happy. Not worldly happy, material happy or chemically altered happy.
Just, happy. Content. Thankful. Blessed.
I get to spend my days with my arms full of warm snuggly baby, something I waited nearly six years for.
I am going to be able to look back at pictures from this time in my life and know that for however long this lasts the people around me got all the best parts of me, especially my littles.
I know my depression is somewhere up there in my brain. I know it will be back someday.
But for the first time in ten years I don’t fear it.