Hello, dear readers of Butterfly Confessions. Lauren of My Postpartum Voice here. I’ve recruited some of Addye’s friends to write posts for her blog while Addye babymoons with hear new little one. This letter is the first guest post and it’s written by the fabulous Susan of Learned Happiness. If you’d like to submit a guest post to be published while Addye is babymooning, email me at mypostpartumvoice (@) gmail with “For Butterfly Confessions” in the subject line!
Without further ado, I present Susan’s lovely words for Addye…..
My Dear Addye,
You and I have been friends for 3 years, now. And in that time, I have watched you transform into a wholehearted woman. You took chances with your life and made huge leaps of faith – faith in yourself more than any one person. You have learned to be honest with yourself about who you are and who you want to be. Your integrity has been hard-fought and is well-deserved. You honor me with your friendship.
You said when you married Bert and took his name that it was the beginning of a new life – one written by you and you alone. One that speaks to all you hold sacred and points to a fulfilling life with your family. And this baby? Is a part of that new life. I can see it in your eyes – in the way you look at him and hold him. I have experienced the hope brought by a new baby birthed in joy and a sense of calm. It renews the spirit. And I couldn’t have wished a better birth experience for you.
Remember that no matter how good your birth (or how much you love that amazing tiny man), having a newborn is a special kind of torture. The nights are long and the days are even longer. And no matter how happy you are, it’s okay to be exhausted. It’s okay to be emotional. And it’s okay to still need help. This is not a test of your spirit. You are not being graded on how gracefully you weather the fourth trimester. There will be beautiful moments and there will be unbearable ones. And your tribe? Will be standing beside you for both.
I hope with all of my heart that the darkness you fear is blotted out by your joy. But if it’s not, if it all becomes too much, you are armed and you are never alone.
With all my love,