The Shifting of Seasons

Our lives have a way of shifting with each season. The winter starts off beautifully. The snow descends from the sky, silently, and accumulates or dissolve without notice. Sometimes I miss this side of the winter season because, as time goes on, winter becomes bitterly cold and encumbering. But, when the seasons are changing, the harsh winds transform into cool air. What was once dead, perks back to life. The flowers blossom into beautiful vibrant colors, and the trees cascade wonderfully as a shade from the piercing sun. In the blink of an eye, winter suddenly transitions into spring, summer, fall, then back to winter again.

Seasons are a reflection of the shifting that happens in each transition. Around this time last year, I was living abroad in South Korea. I was in my second year teaching English as a foreign language teacher to elementary students. I was pregnant, and my heart was bursting with joy and fear at the same time. I never experienced pregnancy before. Who would help me navigate through this process of bringing life into this world? My husband and I were seven thousand miles from any close relative. I was happy, but fear gripped me at my core. It was an underlying deterrent, impeding on my joy; this fear was hardly spoken but greatly felt.

The shifting of a season happens unexpectedly. How I start one season does not dictate how I will end. At the beginning of my pregnancy, fear consumed me because I was more concerned about WHO would help me navigate, rather than HOW. I had to get to the point of shifting my perspective. I had to look at what I had and how I could utilize the resources before me to get me through this process of bringing life into the world.

The shifting of seasons brought forth growing pains I could never have anticipated. It gave me hard lessons of letting go of expectations. It taught me how to embrace my process of becoming; staying connected to my community, accepting the help of others while still educating myself through different outlets along the way. The most significant lesson of all was unmasking the lies I felt through fear with the truth. The truth was, and still is, I was blooming like a beautiful, vibrant wildflower. The growth process was never easy, but it was necessary. It was preparing me for the next season of my life, motherhood.

One year later, my family has journeyed the seven thousand miles back to the United States. My son is now four months old and the absolute joy of my heart. At times, I still feel that fear is making its way back to my realm of consciousness. However, when I think about how I made it through my pregnancy, my anxiety ceases. Our lives are reflections of seasons, the experiences are ever-changing but forever imprinted in our hearts. As I catch up with family and close friends, they often look at me with amazement. They say things like, “You’re so brave to have a child in a foreign country. I don’t know if I could do it.” They have no idea I didn’t have the strength to do it on my own either. Navigating through a transition is all about perspective, how an individual sees their season determines their outcome.

Signing Out,

W.S.Thompson

Monday, April 2nd, 2018

 

 

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“The Joys”Of Parenthood

A historic moment happened in the Thompson household today. It all started with Instagram. A friend posted pictures of a gem she’s found here in Daejeon. It’s called, Yum Yum Thai; a restaurant that has food that looked so delectable it caused me to make a suggestion. “Babe, let’s have a date night.” A look of apprehension crosses my husband’s face. “It’s authentic Thai food. Just look at these pictures, the food looks so delicious.” I’m talking fast and salivating at the same time. “How about Isaiah?” (Our beloved two-month-old) My husband asked impassively. “We’ll take him with us, duh,” I responded. My husband gives in. “Yes!” I think to myself. “I’m going out to eat tonight. Authentic Thai food. I already know what I’m going to order–this is going to be great!” Mind you; it’s ten o’clock in the morning. When you’re a stay at home mom, just the thought of leaving the house excites you.

Finally, dinner time comes around. We stop by a cafe to pass the time until the restaurant opens. As we sit in the cafe, conversing about general things, joking around with Baba, (Our beloved two-month-old). Baba gives me ‘the face,’ “Oh, no,” I thought to myself. Baba has the contorted look on his face. “Not now Baba. Not here.” Shortly after the thought left my mind, Ppppppaaaabrrah! It happens. Now, my son is just like his father in the fart department. BUT, the gas my son let out wasn’t just no regular blow off. He was letting out a nice wet, extensive, doo-doo. So wet in fact that after he was done blowing off steam, a big smile came across his face. I knew right then and there ‘date night‘ was a passing dream.

 

 

The daydream of sitting at a restaurant, enjoying my husband’s company in public with our cute little baby-demolished! Shattered! Done! Not happening! Over! Baba smelled like rotten, moldy, cottage cheese; his clothes needed to be changed, and he just needed a wash badly and fast. Instead of showing discomfort, Baba was in the greatest of moods. “Let’s play mommy!” He cooed. I take him home. Daddy proceeds to the restaurant to order takeout. At least we operate great as a team! Cheers to date night at home with our now restful Baba. Historical moment at the Thompsons. Another memory added to our memorandum.

 

 

Signing Out,

The Thompson Clan

January 2018