SWIM! OR DIE TRYING

A little over a year ago, our family welcomed Rebekah into the world.  Although she was literally ripped from my abdomen, it was an amazing experience.  Remembering Elyzabeth hold and hug her new baby sister still makes my heart swell. 

What I wasn’t ready for, was the overwhelming feeling of defeat.  4 weeks of recovery after my C-Section, followed by exhaustion and depression was not what I had signed up for.   I was expecting a smooth transition from parent of 1 to parent of 2.  But nothing went as planned. 

In an attempt to make the most of the summer, we put Elyzabeth in swimming lessons during the day. After all, I was home all day…what else was I going to do?    

The lessons went well.  Each day she got a little braver, but by no means was she swimming.  By the end of the second session (4 weeks) she was finally floating on her back and her stomach.  So, in the fall, she moved into level 2.  

“LEVEL 2?,” I thought panicky.  “She is totally not ready for level 2!”  So at each lesson I sat in the observation deck, at the edge of the seat ready to jump in and rescue my precious child.  Every time the teacher would let her go, my heart would race and I would panic a little more. 

It was hard for me to believe that my Elyzabeth was not only learning how to swim, but also learning how to read, write and be self-sufficient.     As much as I was excited for her to advance and grow, I was also scared of what could happen.  

Will she get picked on at school?    Will she fail to learn what is expected?  Will she get hurt and I will meet her in the ER? 

So between swimming, school, Church and Dance – we had a full week.  Crazy, full and Elyzabeth was loving every minute of it.    However, my feeling of failure was worse than ever.  I wasn’t getting the laundry done; Dishes were continually piled in the sink.   I was sinking!   

Somewhere in all the sinking, I learned to swim.    I learned that 5 minutes in the morning to throw a load of laundry in was enough to keep me a float.   A few minutes of dishes at the end of the day kept the kitchen usable and less smelly.  And that taking time out of all of it to just “be” with my girls went a long way to helping me survive.  And acknowledging that my house will NEVER be perfect helped a lot too.

I took Elyzabeth and one of her friends swimming last night – and I was amazed at how far she has come in the last year.  She can do laps, jump in the deep end… all without my help.   It might not be pretty, but she isn’t sinking.

She doesn’t need my help with ever thing anymore, but she will always need my love and encouragement.   And that, I have in spades.

So the next year, we are going to SWIM or Die Trying! 

Swim Team, Awana, Dance and homework with an 18month old tagging along. 

What’s the worst that can happen?  Someone will rescue me from my insanity!