I want to tell you...

 

I want to tell you that having Baby N. back after so many months of not seeing her was blissful.

I want to tell you that seeing Baby S. who looked so much like Baby N. when she was that age filled us with joy.

I want to tell you that the transition was seamless, that Darryl and I never fought, that I didn't feel like I was neglecting Joshua and Kayle.

I want to tell you that having to live in a hotel for a week with four kids (because we had scheduled months earlier to have our carpets ripped up and our floors redone) was a super fun adventure.

I want to tell you that Baby N. didn't have tantrums on average 10 times an hour.

I want to tell you that Baby S. slept and didn't wake up every two hours all night long, every night.

I want to tell you that I loved having my office in my unfinished basement wasn't a problem at all.

I want to tell you that I still had plenty of "me" time and Darryl and I had plenty of "us" time.

I want to tell you that I had plenty of time to eat well, to exercise, to crochet and read and create.

I want to tell you that my cats still got tons of attention and my dogs still got lots of walks.

I want to tell you that my former student didn't text me constantly about how much she missed her daughters that she ELECTED to put into foster care.

I want to tell you that the 24-year-old case planner was super responsive to my concerns about Baby N's tantrums and throwing herself on the floor and having food aggression like a dog.

I want to tell you that I didn't collapse every night crying because my house was a disaster and I was so overwhelmed I didn't want to be in my own house.

I want to tell you that I didn't regret my decision.

But I would be lying.