Simple Things

Last night, as I was rummaging around in my linen closet, I came across the bag of toiletries that I had packed as part of my hospital bag.

I guess this is the time when I admit that I have not yet unpacked my hospital toiletry bag.

Oh well, it’s only been 15 weeks, right?

I hadn’t been looking for this bag, but when I spotted it, I couldn’t help but to take a peak.

Inside, I found bobby pins, a few hair ties, a bar of soap, an aerosol bottle of hydrating water and several small tubes of body lotion.

When I saw what was left in the bag,

What had survived our arduous hospital stay, and had come out unscathed,

Unused,

I couldn’t help but to smile.

It was funny to me

To think of what I thought I’d need post-partum.

I so vividly remember packing my hospital bag,

Weeks before I’d actually need it,

Making sure that everything was organized,

Just so.

I was sure I’d be the most together pregnant woman,

And the most well-equipped new mom.

Well, at least when it came to bath and body products.

Little did I know that hypoallergenic, extra-sensitive moisturizing body lotion would be the very last thing on my list of priorities during my 3 night stay in the maternity ward.

When I packed my bag,

I did not know that I’d have to lug that case to the hospital three times before I was allowed to stay.

When I packed my bag,

I never imagined I’d undergo a C-Section,

Making it impossible to brush my teeth, wash my face, shower or even stand up without assistance from the nurses, my husband, and an IV drip of round-the-clock painkillers.

When I packed my bag,

I didn’t understand that, in the coming weeks, moisturizing would rank just as high on my list of priorities as a diamond studded door-knob.

When I packed my bag,

I could never have dreamed how I’d be leaving the hospital,

Lighter in toiletry,

Heavier in love-filled heart.

It’s funny—in preparing for a baby,

You can never actually prepare.

You know things will be different, but you can’t actually know how your priorities,

Your life,

Your everything,

Will change.

Before my daughter was born, I stocked up on big, fancy, flowered hats.

Just what a baby girl needs.

Or so I thought.

For the first 6 weeks of her life, my daughter basically lived in the same, ratty, free, pink hat that was given to us at the hospital.

It was the softest, it fit her head snugly, and it was the most comfortable.

It may have been threadbare,

And a bit of an eyesore,

But it was the best.

Before my daughter was born, we thought she’d love the new, fancy, high-tech baby gear items we registered for.

As it turns out,

Her most favorite things are actually the tried and true hand-me-downs that we have received.

They may be threadbare,

And a bit of an eyesore,

But they are the best.

Before my daughter was born,

I thought I’d be a together mom.

I remember thinking, “How can it be that hard?”

And then, I endured the days of labor, the grueling recovery, the endless nights, the “witching hours” and the frantic calls to the doctor.

I may have stopped moisturizing.

I may have forgotten to brush my hair for a few hours,

Or a day,

Or two.

I may have been threadbare,

And a bit of an eyesore,

But I became the best.

The very best me I have ever been.

And although I may be a bit rough around the edges,

It is my skin that my daughter sinks into as she nestles into my nook for a nap.

It is my tired eyes that she gazes into, as she lights up, from deep within.

My reflection in the mirror may be different than it once was,

But I can assure you,

I have never before loved

the me that I see,

As much as I do today.

So, last night, I tucked the hospital bag back into the linen closet, not ready to unpack it’s contents.

Not quite yet.

I may not be so together anymore,

But, at the very least, my little bag is.

And if I ever need a reminder,

Of how life has changed,

For the better, better, better,

I know just where to look.