Goodbye

Today I say goodbye.  I say goodbye to something that has shaped and molded me more than most stages in my life.  To something that I have been a part of for the past 5 years.  Something that has stretched and challenged me and pulled and tugged at every ounce of energy and emotion I feel I have.  Today, I say goodbye to Bellybou'. 

Although I will still return to the store tomorrow to celebrate with my two partners and all our husbands, today feels like the real end of this journey for me.  Because this is the last day I will be working in here alone.  Something I have done every single time I've been in here since we opened 3 years ago.  And because of that, unlike many stages of my life, this one has been less about the people I have embarked on this with and more about the personal struggles, accomplishments, and everything in between I have experienced through it.  Because day in and day out I would come into this store for 10 hour days by.my.self.  And although this used to be something I resented and actually disliked about this experience, it's amazing how hard it is for me to let go of it.

I signed the lease to begin Bellybou' when I was 20 years old.  I was still in college.  Still yet to graduate.  Still yet to ever really live life on my own apart from the intoxicating and somewhat unrealistic perspective of college life.  I was just a baby.  And now I leave this experience a 25 year old wife and mom.  I have lived a lot of life since I began this journey.  And a good majority of that time was spent behind these walls.  With this view.

 
And this is the hardest thing to let go of.  This place.  This place of solitude.  The place where I have experienced probably every range of emotion on this planet.  This is the spot I would rest day after day.  The place where time would slow down and I would be left alone with my thoughts.  This became the place I would connect with God.  Where I would cry out to him when I was scared and alone and feeling more anxious than I could ever imagine.  It's the place I would rejoice with him when I was excited. 

This has been my sanctuary.  So much more so than I could ever explain in words.  This is where I sat and dreamed of becoming a mom.  It's where I prayed for a little life to grow inside of me.  It's where I cried in the moments I realized yet another month would pass without that dream coming true.  This is the place I sat the day after I finally found out I was pregnant.  And the same place I sat the day I found out my son would be born with Spina Bifida.  I have mourned in this place.  I have rejoiced.  And I have done everything in between.  There have been no sick days, no days off.  No holiday breaks.  I have spent Halloween, Labor Day, Memorial Day, Black Friday, New Years Eve, and New Years Day behind these walls.  I sat in here 2 days before I was going to have Hudson and wondered how different my life would be.  I came in while he was still in the NICU and spent the entire time on the phone to the nurses worried sick about him. 

I learned how to be a mom in here.

 I will never forget bringing Hudson home from the hospital and for the first week of his life 'at home' with us, I was in Bellybou'.  Feeding him, bathing him (yes in the sink), napping him and coming up with a routine.  While every once in awhile glancing up to say a quick 'hi' to customers and ring them up for their purchases.


This has become an extension of home.  So much so that at times when people come in and are rude, or make a mess, or even walk in while I am in the middle of something else... I feel a little violated.  Like they are invading my sanctuary.  Getting a peek into my life and my home when they are not welcome.  It's silly, but so true.

And so, as I sit in my sanctuary one last time all alone...I feel sad.  Sad that this space that has become so much of who I am will in 2 days be destroyed.  It will be torn down and my sanctuary will be gone.  It will be as though it never existed.  And while we've at times joked that that is a good thing...right now it doesn't feel that way.  Today, I am sad to say goodbye to this extension of me.  And it will be hard to lock the door one last time and walk away.

But tomorrow...tomorrow I will celebrate.  Tomorrow I will be grateful.  Both for what Bellybou' has meant to me, and for what I will be able to give now that it is done.  Time.  Time with my family.  Undivided attention to my husband, his ministry, and our son.  Something I have not been able to give the past 3 years.  And I am so unbelievably excited that God blessed me with this gift of time that gets to go right back to them.  My heart will be full tomorrow.  And I will be grateful.

But don't be surprised if you often times find me in the next store that will occupy our space, dragging a chair over to the spot I spent many years of my life, staring out the window, and enjoying my sanctuary once again.  They won't mind, right??  :)