For nearly nine months we shared living space – he made me sick (literally), rammed his head into my bladder, shoved his body into my stomach space, and threw wild dance parties at all hours of the night. And now he’s gone, home where he belongs. And I have this body back to myself.

And it sure has bounced back a lot sooner than I’d anticipated or experienced previously. But, then, as it turns out, when one isn’t trying to take care of oneself, getting the necessary rest for physical and mental recovery, while ALSO caring for a demanding, yet precious, newborn, apparently things just go a lot more smoothly. And many thanks to our two mothers who came to stay for nearly a week post-birth, because I was certainly able to get that necessary rest for that week following his eviction. And it was so good for me.

So, now I meet shocked faces as I’m out and about after how many days from giving birth?! And I meet with the question, “How are you?” but, really, “How are you?” Because we have so many sweet family and friends concerned for my emotional well-being, even moreso than for my physical recovery. Many have been concerned since we first announced our plans for me to carry someone else’s child, because they imagine it being difficult to “give up” a baby after carrying him in one’s womb for nine months. Others simply understood my concern that my hormones might take over after birth, regardless of all I knew and felt before.

The short answer is: “I’m doing well.”

And it’s the true answer.

I was never truly concerned about having a difficult time handing him over, because I wasn’t “giving up” anything. He was never mine and I knew that full well. In fact, when I held him for the first time after our skin-to-skin time immediately following his birth – when it was the next day and he’d been out of my body for over 24 hours – as he was handed to me from his grandmother’s arms, I looked into that precious face, the one that somehow looks just like his daddy’s, and it felt exactly as it would meeting any friend’s sweet baby for the first time. It was sweet to hold a snuggly, sweet, squishy newborn, but there wasn’t even the slightest attachment or feeling that he was mine in any way. I was happy to hold him and watch him sleep, but just as happy to give him back to his beautiful momma and congratulate her on her precious little boy.

And the feeling has continued as we’ve been home. I don’t ever feel like I’m “missing” something. In fact, what’s been most difficult is the fact that, in most ways, it feels like the past year and a half never even happened. It’s hard because it feels that nearly two weeks ago I went through this amazing thing – the process of giving birth – and I felt so empowered (as giving birth can do), and also worn out, because I had done it. I had brought a human into the world.

But now?

Now I’m going to class and doing homeschool lessons with my kids. And I’m encouraging them to do their work and I’m debating how much screen time they should have. And I’m going to bed too late and trying to figure out if I can squeeze in a nap (usually, no). Essentially, I’m doing everything I was doing BEFORE he came out, with the added bonus of being able “to bend,” as my children put it, and to go up and down stairs, and sit on the floor. And I can see my feet and I’m even starting to see the bones in my feet again (their puffiness pre-birth had really bothered me). Overall, aside from a new schedule for expressing milk for that little man, life is just like it was a year and a half ago, before we began this crazy process of bringing someone else’s child into the world.

And it feels weird.

It feels like maybe something should be different for just a little while. Because I just gave birth.

So, truly, that’s the strangest thing to me. And, yes, sometimes the hormones play around and I get weepy and emotional and cry on my husband’s shoulder. But not a single tear has so far had anything to do with the fact that I don’t have a baby to hold. And that is such a blessing – an answer to many, many prayers, from many, many people.

Because God is good.

On a similar note, many have also been concerned for our kids and how they would take it. I’m happy to report they, too, seem to feel like nothing has changed.

I wanted them to meet the baby after he was born, but when they had the chance, they mostly just glanced at him quickly, and then went back to the books they’d brought with them to the hospital.

Our shy ones were too shy to get too close. A couple of them wanted to touch his cheek briefly, but mostly they were unconcerned. Because this wasn’t their baby. In fact, it occurred to me that, as our youngest has almost no life experience with pregnant women, I don’t know that she ever even considered that usually if a mommy is growing a baby that means she’d be getting a little brother or sister. Because we weren’t keeping the baby in mommy’s belly and, at one point she was sad about that fact – for about a minute – but I don’t know that it crossed her mind that this was unusual, or that she should expect anything different.

And when I came home after two days at the hospital, and she got to snuggle with Momma after two days of grandmas, I realized, she probably would have been more upset if she’d had to share.

So I think we’re all taking it quite well.