Weekly heart notes: week 7

Settled (and Becoming)

This week I’ve been tired. The kind of tired that sits in your bones. But I’ve also been deeply hopeful.

Romi is doing so much better. She’s eating all day long, and when I say all day, I mean it. Not like a typical toddler. Not full meals and snacks. Tiny licks. Small nibbles. Sitting with one little piece of food for a long time.

But she’s there.

She’s sitting with food.

She’s building tolerance.

She’s learning that eating can feel safe.

And it’s amazing to watch.

When we have weeks like this, my heart settles. I feel like I can breathe again. I try to hold onto these moments without gripping them too tightly. Without anticipating when they might end. Just letting them be good.

I heard a few songs in the car this week that took me back to Philadelphia. The hospital days, fear, long nights, and it hit me how far she’s come. How far we’ve all come.

And in the middle of that hope, I’m realizing something about myself too.

Hard seasons don’t just break you. They rewrite you.

I went to a gala last night and felt strangely out of place. Four years ago I would have walked into a room like that without overthinking it. Now home feels safest. My kids feel safest. They know me, even while I’m still trying to know myself.

My husband’s counselor asked him recently what makes me come alive. Four years ago he could have answered instantly. Today… neither of us really knew.

That realization has stayed with me.

The last almost four years have changed me. Survival reshaped how I show up in the world. I’m not the same woman I was and I’m still rediscovering who I am now.

But maybe that’s part of it.

Maybe hope isn’t just watching Romi grow stronger. Maybe it’s trusting that I will too.

We have big tests coming up for her. That reality hasn’t gone anywhere. But today she is running around, laughing, goofing off, being a kid.

And today I am learning to sit in the good without bracing for the fall.

Today, that is enough.