These past three years have gone by in a blur. My desire for, my seeking and wanting of a child became such a dominant part of my identity that I often felt like I lost myself. By the time the boys finally arrived, I’d all but disappeared.

2018 was a year of moving from one extreme to the next. Extreme pain, extreme darkness, extreme anger, to extreme joy, extreme love, extreme light.

I never looked to my children to heal my wounds. I never looked to them to fix the brokenness of my relationship with God. But the nature of the innocence and perfection that is a newborn child brought healing with it–rejuvenation. I still have a long way to go, but these boys have given me a new life.

Part of me wanted this next year to be a year of rest, but after prayer and reflection, I am certain that is not what it is meant for. I am tired, my soul is tired, but I know it is not time for rest–that will come some day. No, God has bigger plans for me, as He tends to. This morning I was woken with a word, clear and simple, echoing in my mind: discovery. Discovery. As if He was telling me, this year is bound to be full of adventure, full of uncharted paths, full of uncertainties and experiments, full of newness.

Discovery of myself as an individual. For so much of this year, I wondered how I would recover what I’d lost during our struggle through infertility. But I don’t think the goal is for me to get back what I lost, it is to rebuild something new, better, stronger. I think I am meant to rebuild the person I’ve constantly undermined with my insecurities, doubts, and uncertainties–the woman that God has intended me to be.

Discovery of myself as a creator. My art has always been rooted in pain. These past years though, even my art couldn’t save me. I believe it was meant to be that way, though it was hard. I believe this was because I am meant to create from a new source now. I am meant to draw inspiration from a new life. It will force me to adjust habits that I’ve formed over many years, to strengthen my craft in different facets, and to become flexible in ways I haven’t ever had to before. Creating anything will be much different now with little hands so often wanting to participate–but I look forward to this change.

Discovery of myself as a mother. The way they look at me–it wrecks me in the absolute most beautiful way possible. They see me as someone I’ve never believed I could be–someone much kinder, stronger, and braver. Through their eyes, I’ve been given a second chance to define who I will be going forward. It won’t be a simple, one-time decision, it will be a daily commitment to bettering myself, to trusting myself.

Discovery of our new family. I never want to lose the wonderment I feel when I look at my children. Maybe it is hardwired in me, maybe it’s because of the years I spent praying for these days, but I look at my children like they are magic itself. I know they are humans–imperfect and selfish, bound to disappoint and challenge me, but their existence amazes me. Our little family will continue to grow and the territory will always feel uncharted, but I look forward to experiencing the beautiful chaos that is our lives.

I’m looking forward to this year of new inventions–here’s to 2019.