A Song of Trust

just saying hello

2011-01-20T15:23:00.001-08:00

all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Some things never change

2010-12-04T04:16:00.000-08:00

Ha! After months of writing elsewhere, I return here to make sure this "baby" is OK. For the record, I am following my pledge to write more, only using an easier format should I ever choose to publish. So, I am accomlishing that goal, and happily so. But laughing at myself, because some things really never change. The post about all the things I do before 10 am? Done two years ago after baby number two. Today? Same deal, only there are three of them!

Since I'm here, with some probably sparse moments to spare before the hoardes arise...

Still enjoying my moments. Still tired beyond words some days. Still happy with the choice I made to stay home. (Oh yeah, that's changed since most of my postings! An excuse for the lack here, actually, as I'm not at a computer so often these days.) Still struggling sometimes to be "me", but more in terms of trying to remain sane through lack of sleep and overwhelming endless small things to do than any grand lack of plan. Well, I don't really have a plan, but I'm fine with that. Always have been. Not sure where God will take me next, but He will, and that's good enough. I can be solidly happy knowing that. But some days it's hard to remember how to be a real person and not just a mom. To dress well and shower every day, not succumb to the dead mommy sweats seems to be a big priority to me. To find time to read. To linger in the bookstore alone on my days off, with the girls when I have them. To find validation and get those necessary "oohs and aahs" over things I've accomplished, even if they're tiny tiny microscopic in the scheme of things like sewing a blanket. To replace or find ways to live beyond that need to constant appreciation, that instant gratification I got every day at work from seeing things done. Not so easily replaced by a clean kitchen or a half-picked-up living room or even a long list of errands accomplished. Still, there wasn't much at work that could replace the sounds of my children jumping for joy and dancing around the room when it's their Little Gym day...

Hmm, sounds of children stirring. We must away ere break of day, we must away ere break of day...

I have a theory...

2010-04-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

It's been almost 2 years since I've written in here. Babies, work, time - all flying by. I don't think I can or want to cover all the time between, although it's been filled with both joy and changes. But what I most want to do is start writing something I might be able to leave behind. Legacy is probably too strong a word, but I want to make sure I've left something my girls can read if it turns out to be my time soon. Something that tells them about all I really am, and more importantly all I believe. I know Glen would tell them all about me as a Mom and a woman, and friends and family would be there too. But what I most worry about in the telling is who will teach them about God? I admit it, there are not many to whom I feel able to talk about God myself. Mom sometimes, Christine sometimes, Bethany sometimes. But none of them completely. And none of them I think share my faith in quite the same way (though definitely Bethany acts on hers much more!) Glen for sure doesn't really understand me on this one, and there has always been a shyness in me to really open up because I sense that he doesn't want me to. He's not ready to hear it yet, or maybe it's fear on my part that I'll be labeled in there along with the "Jesus freaks" he's so afraid of. Him and his Dad. Whatever, I've never felt able to talk to him, and so how could he ever pass it on to the girls?

So, a pledge to myself to start writing the words floating through my head. And maybe even to write it so I can publish it. Not publicly, but at least through one of those individual press companies like I did my poetry, so there is a concrete format to keep.

What to call it? Something like "How to break". Because at the core of my beliefs is this idea that sometimes you just have to break to find God. We go on, day by day, thinking we can do it all. We build out little systems, our support structures, our coping mechanisms, so that we can do it all. So that we can be superwoman. But the truth is we can't, not by ourselves. And so God lets us go along and watches us. He keeps letting it get a little bit harder, the pile get a little bit bigger. And the more we forget to ask him for help, the higher it gets, until we get to that point where we just have to break. And then the beautiful part starts, because once we break, once we get down on our knees and ask for help - we get it. No more faking it, no more being strong enough unto ourselves. He wraps us in his arms and we are home and we are filled with him. And it's finally enough. That doesn't mean it gets easier necessarily, especially if we've built our mess really well. But with Him, we can do anything. We just have to get there, and to get there, we have to break.

Best church sign

2008-05-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

Joy! Joy! Joy!

Available free.

Inquire within.

Mommyhood

2008-05-05T07:17:00.001-07:00

Woke up at 4:30, nursed baby. Woke up again at 5:47, got Emma up and dressed, made breakfast for her, snack for later, and got her and Daddy off to school/work. Ate my breakfast, cleaned kitchen, loaded dishwasher, went through three days worth of mail, fed dogs, filled up fish tank, gave dogs medicine, picked up toys and books in living room, put away or threw away everything Emma discovered over the weekend that we thought she couldn't reach, planned lunch date for later in week, made lists of things to do, made more lists, cleaned up two blowout diapers, changed baby twice, changed myself, did two loads of laundry, played with baby, snuggled with her, got smiles, nursed again and rocked her to sleep in my arms, showered. 10:00 am. Now what?

News and prayers

2008-04-22T05:37:00.000-07:00

What I find most often happening these days when I watch the news is prayer. There are so many terrible thing out there! Abuse, kids beating up kids for YouTube, violence in schools, accusations, shootings, anger. It seems to be all around us these days, so sometimes I wonder what kind of world we have brought our daughters into. And so as I watch I find myself praying, almost a desperate chant sometimes. "Dear Lord, please let my daughters grow up safe, let them not be harmed by these things, let them not suffer, or only suffer as much as they can bear, lift them up andgive them the strength abd the character to endure only as much as they can, or as much as it takes to make them better people. Let them not be the victims of these things, and let them not be the ones who harm others. Let their father and I be good guides to them, to raise them to be good people and loving to others. And most of all, please don't let something happen to us that sends them into the system, to be tossed about like so many of these children. Let them always know our love and support and family. Be their rock and love them too, Lord, and guard them always. Amen."

Joyburst

2008-04-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

I had a friend a long time ago who taught me about joybursts. He was only in my life a very short time, and I am convinced the only reason he came into my life was to share this term with me. A "joyburst" is one of those perfect moments when you are so filled with joy or love that you feel like you have to sing or cry or yell out loud or you'll just explode with it. It's such an amazing feeling, and one that I think we need to recognize more often. At the time I met my friend, I was very depressed and struggling to figure out where my place in the world was. Learning about joybursts didn't solve the questions of the world for me, but by defining those moments, he made me really notice when they happened (not very often, then, but still) and enjoy every second of it. He taught me to just let myself fall into it and taste it, and then to let it go without pain when it was done.

I've learned since that joybursts almost never happen in relation to material things (though I suppose if I ever won the lottery that would count:)), but usually happened when I was most myself. I would find myself suddenly, perfectly in tune with the world around me, like noticing the way the wind felt while hiking or driving on a really great road alone. Later, I felt it sometimes when my life started to feel more right, like the first time I heard myself unexpectedly referred to by my married name, or the first time someone really called me a "mom" and talked about "my daughter". Today, I had one of those joybursts sitting in the cafeteria at Ikea. An unlikely spot, I know, but I was sitting eating a lunch my daughter would have enjoyed, and I was watching another mom with her two young daughters, probably 3 or 4. They just seemed right together at that moment, even though one of the girls bumped her head and cried and the other one wanted down... Still something about them made me think about me, and suddenly I realized that would be me in a few years, with "my little girls", "my daughters". Realizing the plural of that phrase just hit me and felt so very good, I almost started crying right there in Ikea with a bunch of executives discussing marketing behind me! I was just so excited and so proud and so thankful that I am here, in such a good place for this moment.

That's just how it works sometimes with joybursts. You enjoy, cry a little in your napkin, and then finish your lunch and buy your daughters a giant stuffed dolphin, just because.

My little light

2008-03-16T17:54:00.001-07:00

Tonight I was sharing a few moments of quiet with Elisabeth. After the hectic days and the constant search to find balance in giving time and attention to both my daughters, it's always nice to have a few moments with just her at the end of the day. After a little sponge bath, we were just sitting on the bed. I was rubbing her tummy the way she seems to love, and her eyes were getting heavy and content. A song came on that I'd never heard before, "Give Me Jesus." "Give me Jesus, give me Jesus, you can have all this world, but give me Jesus." Vince Gill was singing, and it struck my heart immediately and I raised my voice up. But then I thought, what if Elisabeth is included in this world? And Emma? Would that mean you can have all this world and them too? I'm not sure I could really mean that. I try to trust with all my heart, but I don't know if I could be strong enough to let them go if I didn't think I would find them again, their light and love. Could I really live without their smiles and the feel of their breath in my neck, their arms around me, their smiles? I like to think God forgives this question...

Life, interspersed with bliss

2008-03-06T06:53:00.000-08:00

Elisabeth Anne was born nine days ago.

My second baby girl came into this world on her own good time after all. Although we'd been waiting to be scheduled so we could have everything set for Emma, and even though we were actually scheduled to go into the hospital on Tuesday, my water broke Monday afternoon and so it all began. I could really not ask for a better birth story. I had the afternoon off for the doctor's appointment anyway, so after he told me to report back at 7:00 am (yeah! big smiles!) I wandered a bit. I had a nice lunch, bought a book for myself and a book for Emma and a big pink stuffed elephant for baby girl. I walked, and started feeling some light contractions. By the time I picked up Emma and went home, I started to realize that maybe this was the real thing coming after all. We had already called Mom, so ate dinner and called the doc again... We waited long enough for me to put Emma to bed and give her some extra hugs, Mom arrived, and off we went. After a couple of hours of labor (which was not fun, but not terrible or unendurable), I got a room and my epidural. They turned off the lights, and I got an absolutely wonderful 6 hours of sleep! Since I hadn't gotten more than two at a time for weeks with the pregnancy, this was amazing all by itself. When I woke up in the morning, I was sick from the epidural. For a little while really sick, and I started to be scared whether I could manage to have a baby while throwing up. Glen crawled into bed with me and just held me. The pain finally started coming through the epidural too, but then my doctor arrived and (predicatably) he cheered and told me every horrible symptom was a great sign. At about 9:00 am he pronounced me fully dilated. By 9:30 the room was prepped. We did a practice push, three real pushes, and there was Elisabeth Anne! It was so amazing. 9 minutes??? And unlike Emma, I really felt everything beyond just the pain. I could feel her little head and then her shoulders and arms and legs. I got to see her coming into the world. Completely amazing. She is amazing. A beautiful head of hair like Emma's , but lighter, and she's somehow more dainty, despite being a pound heavier. I got to hear her first cries so soon, and then she was on my breast and nursing for the first time. Her mommy.

I will say that the rest of the hospital visit was not so pleasant. It was so overcrowded, we got stuck in the corner of what should have been a private room. Times with her were wonderful, but Glen and everyone was so angry on my behalf (and truthfully I was so disgusted), that it didn't really feel like a celebration. There was not a single space for flowers or guests, and no sunlight. We ended up using Glen's connections to get Elisabeth checked over by the top docs and we went home a day early. But, she is perfect and I feel great - so much better than when I was pregnant! Finally the flowers arrived and it started feeling right again. Our new life.

It's been nine days since she was born. It feels so much easier than Emma. Nursing her I can enjoy every second, not worrying over whether I am doing it right or if she's eating enough. This morning we had one of those perfectly blissful feedings that happens every once in awhile, where she was awake and looking at me. She would eat, wave her little arms, nuzzle around, and she gave me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. My new baby girl.

Emma is doing well too. She needs more hugs, but she is also smiling at the baby and practicing naming body parts on her. With my mom and dad here, I have been able to take some extra time to be with Emma, and we make a point of reading together. Still a bit worried about what it will be like when I am on my own with both of them, but gaining confidence each day. It's good. It's all good. Thank you God for your blessings on me and Glen and our little family. Our perfect little family. I could not ask for more.

All that matters

2008-02-21T17:14:00.000-08:00

I hear people say all the time, this can't be all there is. But I have to say, when I feel Emma's little arms wrap around me in a hug, or when I look into her eyes and brush her hair back as she settles in for sleep at night, I can't imagine anything greater. I thank God for giving me this, and if it's all there is, it's enough. More than enough. It's amazing.

Baby number two is moving inside me as I type too. I know it will be hard, really hard, at the beginning. Even though I have been hoping she would have been here by now, I am trying to remember to enjoy and relax even in these last few days. And I've realized that every day I wait for her is another I can share with Emma, just us. That's a good thing too. We had a really special day this weekend, a holiday Monday, where we went to the aquarium. Emma loves it there, and I made a point to let her see whatever she wanted, even if it meant seeing the same exhibit four times. She's so beautiful and precocious, and I was proud to watch her confidence around the bigger kids. She had such a great time, she kept running to me and hugging me and kissing me. We shared lunch, and she kept grabbing my hand through it and singing. And at the end of the day, tired finally and overexcited, I carried her out. Even though I usually head straight through the gift shop as fast as possible, this time I stopped and decided to get her something to remember our day. She was very into the turtles all day, so I picked up a soft soft stuffed turtle. She grabbed it instantly, carried it to the car all by herself (even though it's almost half her size), and for three nights now she has fallen asleep with it curled under her little arm. I don't know if it means anything real to her of if she remembers where it's from, but I do. My little girl. My big girl.

One Heartbeat at a Time

2008-02-04T08:04:00.000-08:00

One Hearthbeat at a Time
Steve Curtis Chapman

You’re up all night with a screaming baby
You run all day at the speed of life
And every day you feel a little bit less
Like the beautiful woman you are

So you fall in bed when you run out of hours
And you wonder if anything worth doing got done
Well maybe you just don’t know
Or maybe you’ve forgotten

That you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world One little heartbeat at a time

With every “I know you can do it”
And every tear you kiss away
So many things that seem
to go unnoticed

They’re just like the drops of rain
Over time, they become a river

You’re beautiful, so beautiful
How you’re changing the world, yeah you’re changing the world

I believe that you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

Big girl bed!

2008-02-04T07:39:00.000-08:00

For two nights in a row now, Emma has slept in her BIG GIRL BED! I'm so proud and excited. Several weeks ago we finally (after much drama and unforeseen construction issues) got her new big girl room ready and painted. She helped me move in her toys and clothes, and for about two weeks we've done everything except sleep in there. After two weekends of procrastination where Dad and I were too tired to make the attempt and too worried that we would be up all night with her, we finally took a deep breath and just did it. And she was great! The first night she did wake up a couple times, but not any more than she has in general lately, and I just found her sitting on her bed. After a few calming moments that were actually much easier on me since I could sit next to her instead of picking her up, she went back to sleep. The first morning she slept an hour later than usual, and we woke to her calling (not crying) for Mommy and Daddy and knocking on her door. Lst night, she slept all the way through, not a peep till after we were already up and showered. Of course, since I wake up anyway, I've checked on her a couple of times each night, and she's been sprawled apparently happily with doggy and this funky Ikea alligator roll that we have between her and the edge of the bed. Since we have an extra matress on the floor next to the bed, there's really no worry about if she falls out, but so far she seems to be managing well. My big girl! I thought this would be such a big deal, but after all the worry, she handled it like everything else. Guess I either need to give her or myself more credit!

To my baby girls

2008-02-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

Well, it's 35 weeks now. At last check, baby#2 is a little over 5 pounds, and all systems are go. It could be any day, or it could be 5 weeks. I feel ready to meet our new little miracle, but also scared. How will Emma take this new addition? I hope she will not be too confused and that we can make this a good time for her too. She has her new room and new bed and all the things we can possibly think to do for her, but I know none of this will make the reality of not being the "only" any different. I hope she will adjust quickly and that she will never for a minute think we don't love her every bit as much.

I guess my bigger fear, tonight, is that something should happen to me. Would my first baby, my darling Emma, remember me? Singing to her tonight, I wonder if she would remember my voice at all, or the songs I've sung her so many times. Would she remember what it felt like to have my arms around her, hugs in so many wonderful ways and with so many smiles? I hope so. I would not give up being her mother for anything in the world, this brave amazing loving daughter of mine. She is my joy and my sunshine.

And the new baby, whose name I say in my heart but who we haven't met yet. Would she ever know I love her already? I've never felt her weight in my arms or seen her face or her tiny fists or smiles, but I love her still. Would she remember the way I run my hands over my belly, protecting her and touching as much of her as I can? Would her father ever be able to express how much her mommy longs for her?

I don't mean any of this in a morbid way. It's just tonight all this love feels so huge, and time feels so preciously small. I don't think a lifetime is even enough to feel all this or begin to express it. My baby girls. Thank you, God. Please watch over them, and over me, and over their father. Let them know all their lives that we love them and cherish them. Let them know I would give them the world. Let them be able to feel my arms around them even when I am not there, and let your bigger love surround them constantly. My baby girls.

Independence

2007-11-09T17:43:00.001-08:00

Could anything show more clearly that this baby inside me is already her own person than her kicking while I'm trying to use the bathroom?!

Future president or social misfit?

2007-10-31T09:27:00.000-07:00

So, it's Halloween. (Or Harvest Day for those who are more polictically correct than me.) Daycare had a little parade and music party for the kids. Thinking to be a great parent, I show up half an hour early to help get Emma in her costume. The teachers were super organized though, and all the kids were already dressed and anxious to go outside. Emma and a few other kids come to play, and then it's time to go outside, whereupon my beautiful baby starts screaming. She wants to go outside, but doesn't want to be in the buggy with everyone because I'm there. Fair enough, so I am carrying her around now. Finally the parade starts, but Emma really has no interest. She occasionally stops to watch some of the bigger kids, or tries to follow them, but mostly she wants to climb on the fountain and run around by herself. She definitely does not want to be with her class, even though almost every other child is laughing and clapping and sing songing. The music show starts, and though she watches from my lap briefly and dances with me for a bit, she really wants to go on the slide. Or she wants to get right up in the middle of the big kids and watch them again, only she's scared a bit because they are totally jumping around. (It looked like a miniature mosh pit, only with more colors.) We spend the rest of the music time either angry at me because I won't let her on the big kids slide (nor will the other teachers) or happily rearranging the pumpkins in the yard. So the question is, future president or social misfit? She seemed very happy by herself, and wasn't even really paying attention to me either. There was one other girl, also in her class, doing more or less the same thing. (I wouldn't quite say they were playing together because toddlers don't really play together so much, but they were playing the same game carrying the pumpkins.) Both of us moms were just looking at each other, wondering is it us? Are our children odd or just leaders? Probably another area for over-analysis and ridiculous misgivings. Some of the other kids were looking a bit stressed by all the excitement, so maybe it was just too much stimulation. And Emma and the other girl were both running around when other kids were in the buggy, so maybe the question should be: future president, social misfit, or just hungry munchkin?

Setting aside magic time

2007-10-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

As I watch other moms and just people in general, what I see so often is not enough time. Not enough time to do everything, and then letting that mess up the time you have. The other day in the mall, I watched a woman screaming at her toddler to come on, dragging him up from the floor and pulling him as fast as his little legs would run. I try not to judge, and I say a prayer that that's not how life always is for them. But it also makes me think of how I deal with Emma. I said another prayer that no matter how frustrated I get (and I'm sure there will be times when I'm VERY frustrated) I can deal with her in love. To try and remember that sometimes taking a minute out to hold her or just get down on her level is enough for her to stop too and shift gears.

I've also been thinking that I need to carve out special time for her - and then realized to my surprise that I am! I realized that there are moments in the day that I have already sortof carved out as sacred, that I rarely miss, and that I feel sad when I do miss. Some of them are just built in - like getting her dressed in the morning - we cuddle and play peek-a-boo and sing row row row your boat together (she does the rows, I do the rest), and she gives me kisses and laughs up at me. Getting ready for bed is the same in reverse. Another time is picking her up from daycare. Because we have an hour commute, it's important to me that I sit with her there, and we play a bit and go over the day and she points at everything in her class. I get to spend time with her teachers and make sure I know what she's doing. It's not alot, but I make a point of spending it with her instead of just grabbing her and throwing her in the car, and I think we're both happier for it. And of course, bedtime is the best. Even now sometimes when she wakes up in the middle of the night is OK, because it's another chance to just get to sit and rock this squirming energizer bunny and listen to her breathing. My time.

A New Song

2007-10-25T09:27:00.000-07:00

Well, I realized it's been about six months since my last blog entry. Reading back about weaning my first daughter made me almost cry here at my desk. It seems like so long ago, and yet I remember how heartbroken I felt. Now, she's definitely a toddler, running around and looking back at me every once in awhile instead of depending on me. And now we have #2 coming, and I can look forward to both the amazingness of that new life and connection, and all those heartbreaks again! I wonder will it be easier? Harder?

I already see differences in the way I have handled this pregnancy. It's not so scary and dramatic, and alot of the blow-by-blow accounts of each pain and twinge are missing since I sortof know what's coming. And yet, I am trying to make every moment count and enjoy those first kicks, "baby dates" (doc appts where I get to listen to her heartbeat or see her ultrasound), the frivolous pleasure of buying a new blanket or soft toy. Somehow this baby feels different already, and I wonder if I am just imagining that she feels more "girly" somehow than Emma or is that just some strange psychological thing on my part? Find myself oddly attracted to virtually any name starting with "A" too, which has already led to impasse #1 with my husband (which is not so different from the first pregnancy after all...) Both husband and mother too say I am different, more closed in to myself this time. I think some of that is just the fact that there's not so big a need to share all the newness. But also, in many ways I do feel a bit more withdrawn. As a working mom now, with husband and two dogs, I so often find myself overwhelmed and trying to stay sane. Add all the feelings and tiredness of pregnancy, and some times I just can't seem to do anything but love my daughter and defend myself. Emma almost always makes me feel better and more energized with her smiles and enormous hugs. But everything else? I think I am managing to make time for myself and doing the things I need and keeping a home, but at what expense to everyone else? Dogs have all been sick at various times and new behavioral issues we've never had before, husband has been sick and injured both, and some days the best I can do is keep up. Is that enough? Guilt creeps in as usual. Supermom needs to meet romance again!

I guess the best time of day now has become bedtime. Those few precious moments when we're done changing and reading, and Emma is curled in my lap falling asleep, her heartbeat next to the new baby's heartbeat, sometimes her hand on my belly, and sometimes those softs kicks so that there are three of us sharing that space. So much love it's amazing, and peaceful, and nothing could be more perfect in the whole world. All the craziness of the day falls away, and those desperate prayers of "God help me do this or that" turn into a more simple and wondrous song of thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you Emma. I love you new baby.

Endings and beginnings

2007-04-16T16:53:00.000-07:00

Tonight I weaned my daughter. For a few months now I've stopped pumping during the day, just feeding her in the morning and at night. Slowly, even that has been getting less and less, until last night - the last night I breastfed my baby. My big girl! I'm so sad tonight. Last night I came out of her room crying, knowing. My last thought was "God, please let me remember this feeling for the rest of my life." Moments later, she pulled away, curling up against me in sleep. Tonight, of course, was harder. Last night she didn'tknow it was her final time. Tonight, she cried. I gave her a bottle, which she took happily for a minute, then she threw it away and tried to turn to me. Oh baby! It took everything to pull her so gently away and give her back the bottle. She really cried, throwing her body around and trying to reach me. In the end, not knowing what to do, I just started singing. I always play music at bedtime, music I like and can sing to, and so I started singing along. Amy Grant, "Saved by Love", Vince Gill, "Once in Awhile". And amazingly, it calmed her. Her eyelids got heavy, and her hands fell away from the bottle, and she slept! I tiptoed out to Carrie Underwood singing "Don't Forget to Remember Me". Oh my baby. Did I ever imagine when I first started breastfeeding her how it would break my heart to stop?

Living in Joy

2007-03-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

So many things to write, where do I start? I guess just by being thankful that we are all healthy again, and that I have a beautiful daughter and husband who loves me, we have a beautiful home and enough money to do the things we want and travel to see our loved ones, and we both have parents who are well and able to truly enjoy their granddaughter. As I type, one of my oldest and dearest friend's mother is in the hospital, where they sadly probably expect her to pass. She's been struggling with cancer for years now, and before that so many other health issues between her and her husband and my friend. She's tried to be so strong and she's beaten this so many times, but I guess there comes a time when you just can't fight anymore. Saying many prayers, but all the while so sad for my friend and grateful for what we have.

I've missed writing about all the changes in Emma. These past few months she's grown so much! Not really in size, but in shape and personality and skills. She can crawl and pull herself up to stand and cruise around the walls and furniture on her own. She loves to crawl a bit away, stop, turn and sit up for a minute and smile at me, screech cheerfully, and continue crawling. Such a grin! Hey mommy, look at me! It all happens so fast! One day she could barely pull up, now she can get up using a wall or any handy object. One day she could barely crawl, now she's climbing over my legs and other low obstacles. Yesterday for the first time she climbed through the rungs of a chair. Each new little achievement brings such a grin and waving of her little hands. She peers up at me through the fringe of her long hair, and I swear her first words will be "I love you." Now when I leave her at daycare she crawls away, or sometimes they plop her in a walker and off she goes, bumping into everything and correcting. When I pick her up she screeches again, and when they hand her to me she wraps her arms around my nexk and sticks her wide open mouth against my cheek in her version of a kiss. (OK, so occasionally if she's hungry I get a little nip too, but it's all good!) She even looks like a little toddler now, more skinny and long than roly poly baby. And the barrettes that we started wearing a month ago, she's already figured out how to pull them out again...

Last week we took her to Florida again for "Spring Break". Amazingly, she did well again on the flights, despite the trip down being the day after an ice storm and travel day from h---. Only ten hours or so in the airport/on the plane... She was really unbelievably good right up till we landed and were waiting to get off the plane, when I handed her to Glen and she threw up all over him. At least we were there! It seemed like she remembered Grandma and Pop Pop this time, or at least she felt comfortable with them right away. In fact, she adores Pop Pop, and he actually babysat for an evening while Glen and I went out. It was a really nice trip, and I have to say a bit like being at our own personal all-inclusive resort. Pool, daycare, home cooked meals, drinks, and boat rides on site, and the beach and resort pool with tiki bar ten minutes away. Not a bad life! The only snag was it turned out Emma was terrified of the sand! We set her down, and she tried to pull up her little feet, kept her hands raised, cried, and tried to climb up Glen literally till he put her on his shoulder! We tried a couple of times, with no success. Hopefully, as we say, this too shall pass! We did get her in the pool, and after a dubious day or two she ended the vacation happily splashing away.

Now we're back home, and my fears that we would have a repeat of last time and have three weeks of sleepless nights turned out to be unfounded. She went happily back into her crib, and even seemed to remember the daycare ladies. Next week: Easter weekend in Chicago! Glen can't take that much time off work, so Emma and I are traveling this one alone. Oh Lord, patience and strenght? Planning, planning, planning, and realizing that no amount of planning will be foolproof once I step out of the house. Kindof looking forward to it to as a challenge, though, too. Perfect mommy syndrome to think I can make it fine? I'll let you know on the flipside whether I ever do that again! :) Still, even if it's horrible, I know my parents are thrilled that we're coming to see them this time. And we'll get to see Aunt Lile and cousin Brenda. I have so many nice memories of Easters as a child, almost like Christmas, waking up to go see what goodies were on the dining room table. I hope we can start making good memories for Emma too.

first sick

2007-02-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

So, we've officially been sick now. All of us. What started out as Emma catching a cold and stomach flu from daycare went through the household in a most nasty way, in one end and out the other! In hindsight, after watching Emma throw up for a full week, I suspect that my bad hamburger was really just the flu too. A few nights later, the au pair came down with the same thing, and even Glen had some tense moments of tummy rumblings that thankfully subsided. Three out of my five staff have been out sick with it, and my boss has a horrible cold/flu thing that does not involve throwing up (the only one of us, apparently), but which nevertheless has laid him low for a week too. Talk about an education for Emma's immune system. Why does it still seem weird to me that we should catch something from her? I know she's just a small person, but she seems to tiny to me to be able to get me sick. Obviously, though, perfectly capable, as I work out this lingering cough...

We started daycare again today. It felt like starting all over again, and I cried again, and she wailed. Not helped by my irrational guilt over the fact that she got sick and I'm leaving her there again... The ladies all remembered us though, and they welcomed her back, and when I went to peek in the window at her at lunchtime I saw her happily sitting and rocking in a chair eating (or perhaps refusing to eat) her oatmeal. Lord please keep her safe, and help me be stronger in the mornings so I'm not upsetting her with my own silly antics.

Pink Snowsuit and moonboots

2007-02-20T10:48:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile I see a little girl, and it just moves me to think how Emma will be that way someday too.

The other day, I was walking to work, frowning over another sick night and impatient to get to my Starbucks hot chocolate, when I noticed a "couple" ahead of me. It was a man and a little girl, maybe 2-3 years old. She was stomping along in pink moonboots, her oversized pink snowsuit swishing as he carefully watched her climb up and over the piles of snow at each curb. She was concentrating so hard to get over each one without help, arms out, up, down, and then back to clomp clomp clomp on the sidewalks. It was just so sweet and there was so much easy love as he watched over her. I couldn't help but think of Emmy and her someday pair of little moonboots...

peace

2007-02-13T16:45:00.000-08:00

I like the snow. Today was supposed to be a big storm, but there are only a few inches. Still, from Emma's window everything looks white and pretty in the moonlight, and I can hear the patter aginst the skylights, and it's so peaceful again. I take a deep breath, and smile, and rock her gently.

The last few days have been pretty horrible. Emma started her first week of daycare and came home Friday throwing up. Luckily Mom was here visiting, I can't even guess how many loads of laundry she did for us. Jesse got sick too, and then I ate a hamburger I really shouldn't have at lunch the day mom left, and ended up dropping her off at the airport in a hurry as I sped home to begin the forceful, shall we say, evacuation of said hamburger. What a mess, and amazing that Emma slept that night for us because there was no possible way I could have done anything to help her. Glen did his best and got her ready for bed and did his own dinner, but there's really only one person Emma wants when she's sick... Even including Glen spilling soup all over the master remote, we managed to survive, and somehow make it to this night. Emma is still sick, and it breaks my heart that mommy's magic kisses can't make her all better, but I just keep telling myself that this is how her immune system will get strong and she'll grow up to be big and healthy and her smile will be back soon. Because really everything is different when she smiles...

Anyway, happy thoughts finally, hopefully, as the house slowly creeps toward quiet for the night.

Snow falls
and peace settles gently
over us all.

I tuck the blankets
under Emma's arms and whisper softly,
softly,
good night.

Daycare begins

2007-02-07T11:33:00.000-08:00

So, Emma started daycare yesterday. I cried, she cried, we both got hugs from the caregivers... Actually, it wasn't as bad as I feared. Glen came with us for awhile, which helped alot. He was able to play with her and show her some of the neat toys while I got better acquainted with the "misses" and gave them some details of her care. I did well until at one point I tried to move away and she grabbed me (by my hair) and started crying. Waaa! Me too! (Or do I mean her too? :)) The ladies all seem pretty nice though. Two so far stand out. Miss Liz is one who has this harsh voice. She's really nice and she's been friendly and interested in Emma, but if I couldn't see her body language along with the voice I'd swear she was just plain mean! This morning as I left she was laughing at Emma (who was crying again) and obviously trying to distract her and get her to smile, but without looking it would have seemed like she was laughing this evil laugh at my baby's tears... Very Wizard of Oz. Miss Cleo so far seems to be the one mostly caring for Emma, and I've had a few really nice talks with her. She's big and gives off this protective feeling like she's definitely watching over, and I want to call her Mama Cleo instead. They invited me to come anytime to peek in at Emma through the windows. (Later I'll get to have lunch or whatever, but while she's getting used to everything it's best just to let her do it!) Anyway, of course today the one time I go to peek at her she's crying. Sigh. It's so hard leaving her! I did see one of the misses nearby, and a few minutes later she was getting her bottle, so I have to believe that they're being good with her. Miss Cleo also came out to tell me she seems to be teething again, molars this time. Poor baby! As if it wasn't tough enough getting used to all these new people and kids and sounds. Not surprising though, I even found her sucking her thumb yesterday (which she hardly ever does). Or maybe it's been coming and it's just the unfamiliar surroundings that are making her less happy to deal with it. Still, I watched lots of other kids getting dropped off this morning who were running in before their parents. Not a single one being dragged... So, I imagine Emma will be much the same before long. She was happy enough when I got her last night. She immediately started talking, and we all laughed because it sounded for the world like she was telling me about her day! And this morning she was happy enough and playing with her little tongue stuck out just fine until she realized I was leaving. Just have to keep hoping for the best and we'll take one day at a time!

weaning

2007-02-05T04:57:00.000-08:00

In response to a good friend asking how the weaning is going...

Good and spectacularly bad. More good though. I have to say, the hardest thing is not her so much as me. If I am "tough" and manage to get through her crying to a peaceful night, I feel guilty for her suffering. If I give in and put her back to the breast - which immediately brings peace and comfort for her, and usually wet snuffles as she calms down - then I feel like a failure. The result is that nothing about breast feeding is just plain old good anymore. There's just so much pressure to wean - both from me and from everyone else around me. And yet, there's this tiny voice inside that wonders if I am truly ready for this (might it not be easier if I were 100% committed?)

Yuck (I mean that in the nicest possible way!)

2007-02-01T11:54:00.000-08:00

A sequel to "Emma kisses"... Emma licks! She has discovered her tongue, so now most of the time it's sticking out. Laughing, concentrating, standing, talking, anytime - out comes the tongue. Most recently - while kissing! Very cute, but yesterday I got my first experience of having my cheek thoroughly swiped. Yuck yuck tooey!

Emma sleeps

2007-02-01T04:53:00.000-08:00

It's amazing to me how centralized our life has become on one thing - whether Emma sleeps or not. It's the first thing we talk about in the morning, the first thing anyone asks, the first thing the au pair and I discuss when I get home, and the first thing people notice about me if she hasn't... Crazy! What really gets me is that even strangers ask this question - is she sleeping through the night yet? It seems to be a loaded question, asked just as an opening for them to jump in and give you their opinion and advice (well-intentioned or not). And believe me, EVERYONE has an opinion! Have you tried this? That? My sister/friend/cousin twice removed did this and it worked perfectly and HER baby sleeps 12 hours a night... It's like strangers asking when I was pregnant - is it a boy or a girl? Why is it any of their concern? What makes them think they should know? Isn't this all a special and personal question? And why is it such a national concern anyway? I wonder if it's just we Americans that are so obsessed with our babies sleeping through the night. Is it even natural? If it were normal, why are there so many many many books about this subject? When you think about it, for that matter, how many adults sleep through the night? Maybe we should be looking more at the rest of our lives and finding ways to give ourselves a break than worrying about whether my 8-month-old still wakes up wanting mommy in the middle of the night...

Great book title

2007-01-31T05:41:00.000-08:00

Every morning I walk by the Pennsylvania Bible Society on my way to work. In their window, they have a display with a book there that has what strikes me as one of the greatest religious book titles ever. Sounds like some kind of profound singles add almost: Shepherd Seeks Meaning of Life.

Emma stands!

2007-01-30T14:14:00.000-08:00

So, quick update on the motor skills progress of our little munchkin...

True story: One day not long after Christmas, I was in Emma's room putting away laundry. She was playing in her crib, and I had my back to her, when all of a sudden I hear this laugh that can only be described as pure glee. I turn and look, and surprise! There she is, standing for the very first time on her own, looking at me over the rails of her crib, holding onto the top rail for dear life and grinning ear to ear! She was so proud and excited! And me too! I swooped over to her and smothered her with kisses, both of us laughing. My genius baby! I know she's just little still, but I am so proud of her and I tell her that often. I hope she knows somehow. I had an interesting discussion with a friend about how our parents influenced us as children and the specific things they did that translate to who we are now. One of the things I know my parents did that made me who I am is their constant support. No matter what I did or what directions my interests wandered in (and they were legion), they always showed me they were proud of me (or told me why they weren't so I could fix it). I want Emma to have that same assurance and support - that strong base that lets her venture out into the world bravely and with a smile and the knowledge that wherever she goes, she will have me and Glen. Saw a neat sign the other day for a baby's room that I think I'll copy for her room: Home is where you begin. I like that.

So, after standing... Now she is able to stand and balance herself with a table or with one of our hands, letting her own hands go one at a time - right, switch, left, switch, right - look ma! No hands! (Plop.) She's also starting to be able to pull herself up using the coffee table or push up using a knee or low box. AND she can walk hanging onto one finger on each hand. Glen and I watch her every day together and cheer with her, and she smiles like crazy for us. All these moments, still, sleep or no sleep, are the greatest in the world. Our family. In the immortal words of her bird toy: Yippee!

Quick bits - this too shall pass?

2007-01-29T06:46:00.000-08:00

So, what I have come to realize is that I keep trying to write novels in here. (OK, not so surprising to anyone following along maybe...) Anyway, I wait and wait to write when I have plenty of time, and by then there is so much saved up to say that it can't possibly be done at one sitting. Resolving here to try and throw things in when they come, including bits from the past that haven't made it in yet. Might result in some flashbacks and things out of time, but how is that different from the way I feel these days anyway?

About a week now without sleep, meaning not more than three hours at a stretch. It's all sortof been a snowball. First, she didn't poop all last weekend. We're working on solids, and since she doesn't like or know lots of things yet, a "balanced" diet is not quite reality. So, days with too much poop, days with no poop. Three days without, and Tuesday resulted in literally an explosion of the most poop my au pair had ever seen. She said it was amazing, and they spent half a day cleaning both of them up. Of course, Emma felt much better afterwards! But, her nap went astray that afternoon, leading to a somewhat off night. Wednesday, workers came to install a humidifier, banging, clanging, again no nap, little rougher night. Thursday, bug guy came to kill the little creatures in our pasta cabinet, cleaning woman came, no nap, no sleepy... A pattern is emerging? Friday I came home, after a glorious evening off having my hair cut and colored and pampered in general, to find Glen sick and Emma with a low fever and cranky. Sleep? Sleep? Found myself at two in the morning with Emma in the bed and Glen in the bathroom, sounding like he was going to die and claiming he now knows what childbirth feels like. While I doubt anything feels quite like childbirth, suffice it to say he clearly felt pretty bad. Saturday, although he felt better, somehow got even worse, with Jesse up and wandering, Emma refusing to come unattached, even in bed with me. 2, 3, 4, in the morning, me and Emma both crying in bed as I struggle with trying to coax her into her own crib, bassinett, anywhere but hanging from me... I begin to wonder if it's possible to wean her, if it's right, can anything that causes this much distress be right? Despairing that she will ever be weaned, sad that she will be weaned - is it me? Can I really commit to this? Am I wimp if I don't? Am I a bad mom if I do? All I want is to see her smile every morning... Last night, Sunday night, just topped everything. Finally had a bit of peace nursing her to sleep and watching the snow fall through the dark. So quiet and beautiful. I felt good and hopeful that things would be better, or that at least I would be better able to handle everything. For once in a long time, felt God's love wrapping around us and it all felt so right again. Shattered spectacularly when she would not not not be put in her crib for the hundredth time and I finally fled, leaving her wailing... Glen tried to help, he really did. He went up and comforted her, tried giving her a bottle, but of course all she wants is me so after awhile he left her too. Sometimes I think it's easier for Glen at times like this - he seems to take for granted that there's nothing he can do (at least at night), and this relieves him of the burden of trying, so left to struggle with when to go to her, when to stay away, feelings of despair that this will ever get better, feelings of failure when I can't take it and give in to her demands for the breast, questioning whether this is the right thing to do, aware that without weaning we will never get that time away... And will I ever get pregnant again with all this stress and her still at my breast? I finally laid a bed for us on her floor again, knowing I simply couldn't abandon her alone, I just couldn't, hoping that at least my being there will reassure her that she is loved, even if she's not nursing. Watched her throw herself around in her tantrum and tried to cuddle and comfort without giving in to her demand. Just when I thought I couldn't do it another second, lo and behold - sleep. She literally passed out from one second to the next. Amazed, I hardly dared breathe Of course, nothing can be that easy. She fell asleep on her stomach, something she has never EVER done before. Since she's still sniffly from her cold, and even more so after more than an hour of crying, and after giving her some motrin, I was suddenly plunged into the sleep-deprived bleary fear that she would suffocate. Still amazingly, I did get her into her crib, where she again refused to stay on her back. Where did this come from? Glen was finally able to get her rolled at least onto her side, and I fell into fitful and terrified sleep. In the end, she slept through the night, but I got up three times to check on her. Please, Lord, please...

Standing up and letting go

2007-01-17T11:29:00.000-08:00

Well, as usual when a month goes by, so much has happened! Where to begin? Christmas was a blast, with my parents here to help out and watch her grow. The week they arrived she really started to try and crawl. So amazing and so frustrating to watch her work at it! She lays on her belly, looking at us, reaching out for us, and moving... backwards! Somehow she just can't quite figure out how to move forward, and each push with her hands sends her the wrong way. Poor thing, she's trying so hard! She yells LOUD with each attempt and I just know any day now she'll figure it out. Dad (Grandpa) especially seemed to really enjoy trying to teach her. In fact, he's completely head over heels over the moon in love with this little girl! Still doesn't change a diaper, but he's quick to pick her up or (ouch) kneel on the floor when she needs someone. Mom says he's also been seriously inspecting every toy and gift destined for her little hands too, sometimes even taking them apart just to see if SHE can. Admittedly, it was also nice having him around to build the radio flyer wagon that Glen's parents sent her too... Saved us the frustration, assured him that it was built safely, and allowed him to be part of their gift. Then he got to push her around in it. Her first "laps", and boy did she love them! She squealed and waved her little arms and rocked back and forth every time he stopped. Faster, Granpda, faster was the clear message! More, more! Lord, she's the greatest!

The week after they left was alittle rougher. Our au pair came down with some nasty throat thing, complete with 103 degree fever, so I spent the week after New Year's off work and finding things to do to keep us out of the house. We spent lots of time at the mall... We did spend one day at Ikea, which Emma loved. It was like Disneyworld. She sat in her stroller and looked and looked and smiled at everything. What agreat place for her - piles of brightly colored objects, people, twists and turns, and of course a new toy. Although I have to admit to some frazzle staying with her at home for a whole week (OK, maybe alot by the end of the week), still, it's so different getting to spend days at a time with her instead of snatches of evenings and weekends. Did make me stop and think though. When I'm working all the time, it's easy to think I might want to stop working and stay home with her, or with the next one. But the truth is, after two weeks at home, I am tired and looking for ways to be myself and not mommy for awhile. Even just looing for excuses to wear nice clothes. Is that wrong? So, long hard realization that maybe I shouldn't stay home... But then what? Maybe find something part-time, something that at least gets me away for a bit. Not worrying about it, just letting thoughts settle and waiting to see what comes...

Empathy? Telepathy? Imagination?

2006-12-19T09:17:00.001-08:00

A question I posed to a few of my closest mother friends recently...

Do you think there is some sort of empathetic or even telepathic connection between mothers and their children? I know it’s a weird question, but the last few nights I've noticed something…

So, in the past I know the nights I've tried to get Emma to sleep when I was wired or stressed were always the hardest to get her to sleep. I figured that was because we're still nursing, and holding her in my arms I'm sure she can feel the tension in my body. She definitely falls asleep better when I'm happy and quiet, and even more so recently if I'm happy enough to sing to her. The nights I'm most frustrated because she won’t go to sleep she just gets more and more clinging and I know for sure it's because she senses something is wrong. But the last few nights, I've noticed something more. It started happening that when I woke up at night, a few minutes later she'd wake up. I thought maybe it was that she'd actually been making some sound that I heard in my sleep that woke me, but I wouldn't hear her fuss for a bit after I woke. Now there have been two nights in a row when after I got up and nursed her back to sleep, she's been a bit fussy still in her crib. Not all out crying, but a few little cries every couple of minutes. I myself have been feeling angry and stressed these past two nights (not over her), so whenever I wake up, the old brain kicks in and disquiet follows… But after I'd nursed her and went back to bed, I told myself I was not going to go back and get her if she wasn't fully crying. She was fed, she was fine, she just needs to learn. What I noticed was that when I quieted myself, she got quieter. At one point I was trying to put myself to sleep despite her noises by telling myself that God is watching her, she's fine, go to sleep baby. It became almost a little mantra in my head, and I focused on that, like I was meditating, pushing all other thoughts from my head. And amazingly, as long as I kept that up, she got quiet! As soon as some other rotten thought intruded, she'd start crying again, and as surely as I pushed the thoughts out and focused on my mantra again, she'd quiet. Mind you, she is not in my room, she's in her room in her crib that's down the hall and around the corner, so it's not remotely possible that she can physically hear me. (I wasn't moving anyway, was trying to lie still and breathe and relax.) Have you ever noticed anything like this? Surprisingly, I mentioned this to my own mother and she immediately told me she does believe there is a connection - in fact, the last few nights she's been feeling pissy herself for absolutely no reason! I remember during my pregnancy saying often that whenever I was stressed she got really quiet, and when I was happy she seemed happy and kicking too. I figured this was purely a physical thing, something about muscle tension or maybe chemicals. But now I'm wondering… What do you think?

Back postings...

2006-12-19T09:10:00.000-08:00

In fairness to the record, I wanted to add an email I sent to a friend just after Thanksgiving. So someday when Emma reads back on this or I look back, I'll remember the good and the hard and know that it was ALL worth it...

"So, things have been rough lately. Ultimately incredible and rewarding, but in the short term hard on the body. Trying to just keep enjoying the little things. Started back what, like a month ago when I think we went through a last bit of teething or something. For some reason she just stopped sleeping through the night. Then we went ot Florida for Thanksgiving to Glen's folks. We had all these visions of leaving her with the grandparents and spending long hours together alone finally, but apparently we've reached the age of separation anxiety and stranger anxiety, so we spent most of the trip with her not wanting to be held by anyone but mom and dad. By the time she calmed down, we only had one day to wander, then Thanksgiving day and then home on Friday. Sigh. It was good to see the family, and Kelly and Sydney were there. Emma absolutely loved Sydney from the moment she saw her, and Sydney liked the fact that she was the one person (besides me) who could make Emma smile every time. It's also a big deal that Emma is her only first cousin. (Syd has a whole gang of little girl cousins her age on Mike's side, but they're his cousins' children so like second, third cousins? Removed? I can never figure it out. Anyway.) So Florida was good, but the weeks following are a blur of messed up routine and no sleep. Emma went through some whole separation anxiety thing where for at least a week she wouldn't let me put her in her crib. I ended up spending many nights with her in our bed or me sleeping on her floor where hopefully she wouldn't get too used to sleeping with mom and dad. Seems like it's only maybe the last week that she's finally started to settle down and sleep for more than 2-3 hours at a stretch. For a bit too she was horrible during the days, not letting Melanie (the au pair) leave the room or even put her down in her old swing or anything. Poor Melanie was going nuts, although it's hard to feel sorry for her when at least she got to sleep! After a few days, though, she went back to being her normal self during the days. Happy, smiling, will sit and play by herself for long stretches and doesn't get too upset when I leave the room. It's just been the nights… Then, just about the time we got her starting to settle, Jesse had a medical thing. She's had this fatty lump on her chest for years, and a week and a half ago it split open. It wasn't dangerous per se, but because it's right in the middle of her chest the vet figured it wouldn't heal well or would keep coming back anyway, so we ended up getting surgery for her to remove it. Coincidentally, Glen's scheduler overbooked him for the week and he ended up seeing a record number of patients… You know, the whole rain/pour thing… Still, we somehow survived and I'm not really complaining anymore. Just glad it seems to be passing.

Good things though, I know again that God is giving me the strength to do theses things when I need it. Somehow despite lack of sleep and frustration and tears, every morning Emma smiles at me is still a gift. In fact, the other morning we had a rough night and she was still asleep when I was ready to leave for work. I knew I should let her sleep, but I also knew that without seeing that smile at least once, my whole day would be the worse for it. So I woke her up, and was happy I did, feeling that flood of love and joy washing away every vestige of frustration. I don't know why it doesn't seem to work that way for Glen, but that minute I get to hold her in the morning means everything to me. Also, I have to admit that the thing with Jesse really made me pay more attention to her (Jesse, that is). Especially with the sleep thing, I know I haven't been showing her as much love and giving her the time she needs. This really made me do it and made me remember how she is my baby too. Spent a couple of nights sleeping on the floor with her too, and though I wonder if I am doomed to a life of nights on the floor, still felt good to be lying there with an arm around her, keeping her safe too.

So, as Christmas approaches, much to be thankful for, much to celebrate. My parents are coming Thursday Dec 20 for a week. They can hardly wait to see Emma, and we can hardly wait to show them all her new tricks! We have a Christmas tree up now, and as the only Christians on the block have the only lights up on the block… Happy Hannukah? Anyway, all in all life is good and peaceful as it can be, and filled with love. What more could we ask for?"

December 12, 2006

Catching Up, Falling Behind

2006-12-19T08:30:00.000-08:00

Wow, so it's been over two months since I've written. Not for lack of material, that's for sure! It just all seems to fly by so quickly. One minute she's this tiny little bundle who needs to be carried so carefully, the next she's two feet of energy and on the verge of crawling! Or maybe walking!

Lots of big holidays coming and going too. My parents came to visit just before Halloween, and we had fun taking her to a pumpkin farm and watching her stare so very intently at the pumpkins and squashes (see below Pumpkinland blog). Halloween itself was a bit of a let-down though. It turns out that our neighborhood doesn't trick-or-treat at home. Not enough houses/kids. Maybe in a few years there will be enough kids, but this year the older ones all went to some other neighborhood where apparently it's like Christmas with decorations on every house and the streets lined with the imported cars of parents bringing their kids... I tried to get off work early anyway so we could walk around the neighborhood. It was a beautiful sunny day... Unfortunately the train did not cooperate, and I ended up rushing in the door with maybe half an hour of daylight left. I grabbed Emma and got some pictures of her in her Halloween clothes, then the au pair and I changed her into her pumpkin costume and took more pictures till dark... Oh well. Next year!

Thanksgiving came in a rush - her first airplane ride and trip to visit Glen's parents in Florida. Despite the mountain of baby luggage (car seat, base, stroller, pack-n-play, blah blah blah), we got through the flights pretty well, and she turned out to be a good traveller. In fact, a couple across the aisle commented that they didn't even realize she was there! We had a nice visit and Emma got to sit in the sand and squish it in her toes and fingers for the first time. She also got to visit cousin Sydney and evil Aunt Kelly. (Evil because for the first several days whenever Kelly picked her up she cried, and Kelly said she wouldn't put her down till she stopped crying! Well, eventually she did stop... Always a test of wills in our family!) Anyway, Emma is Sydney's only FIRST cousin. This is a very important distinction because on Mike's side of the family Syd has like 6 or 7 little girl cousins, but they're second cousins or third or removed or whatever. Syd actually understands this (she's 6 and a half) and she takes it very responsibly that she has to watch over Emma - as long as she never has to change a diaper! Anyway, it was love at first sight on both sides, with Sydney going to great lengths to make Emma smile and Emma happily responding. Joy all around!

Now, finally, Christmas is coming. My parents arrive in three days. I can't wait for them to see her! It's only been two months, but it's like she's a new person every time they come. Every day she's more alert, more talkative, more everything. She's sitting up by herself now (mostly), she laughs like a little lunatic at the dogs and reaches for them, and she smiles so very much. She's starting to eat solids now (peaches great, oatmeal good, rice cereal? YUCK! And the turkey with broth Mom accidentally opened this morning? Well, let's just say even dad felt bad watching her gag... How can it possibly taste good when I swear it smelled like cat food? Anyway...) I know my parents are going to have so much fun with her. Kelly says every day was better than the last with Syd. I'm not sure I fully agree - I love every day, even the hard ones - but I'm sure every visit is better than the last for my parents. They miss her like crazy and my dad has become a proud Grandpa putting up pictures of her everywhere.

I think still the most suprising thing to me is how much I am enjoying her. And I can't wait to have another! Somehow I, the least child oriented person I knew, have become a good mom. Is it just so much love? Is it this patience that sprang up from nowhere in me? I don't know where it came from, but I know she makes me glow. No matter how little sleep I've had or how stressed I am or angry or rushed or whatever (and believe me, there have been some rough times! sleep, what sleep???), the moment she smiles at me and gives me that little "ahhh" coo I am just in love all over again. Simply amazing. And every night, no matter what other rotten thoughts from the day creep into my head, I thank God for another day with her and for every smile she gave me. My wonderful gift. Emma.

Pumpkinland

2006-10-10T09:34:00.000-07:00

This weekend my parents drove out to see Emma for a few days. I'm used to seeing them a few times a year, but of course with Emma growing so fast they come more often now. I like when they come because they are really helpful and are always ready to be "put to work", whether that's fixing something around the house or holding Emma while I fold laundry or serving up the take-out chinese while I feed her... In fact, they complain if I don't have lots of things for them to help with! Also, they are resepctful of Emma's schedule, such as it is, and more than happy to work around her awake or nap times. Probably more so even than Glen, who often tries to assert himself and force Emma to adhere to our desires - ha! Sunday we went to this "Pumpkinland" that I discovered about 30 minutes from the house. It's one of those pick-your-own fruit farms - good to know, they have blueberries and strawberries and raspberries! It was fun, but clearly an annual photo op for families. There were piles and piles of pumpkins, every one with a kid stuck in somewhere while the family took pics... They even had a couple of height billboards that said things like "How tall am I this year?" with kids and pumpkins lined up for their shot... A bit commercial, but safe and cute all the same. Pony rides and hay cart rides and festival food (fresh made cider donuts and apple fritters... mmm!) And piles of mums too. We of course could not resist all the pictures either, and we have lots of shots with little Emma frowning in deep concentration as she tries to figure out what the odd orange and green (gourd) shapes are. Also discovered she loves yellow mums - a challenge keeping her from eating her handful!

It was nice too, this weekend, because I think it's the first time Emma really interacted with my dad. He's always a little hesitant, but this time she really started smiling at him and playing with him, and you could see he loved it. Of course she's used to mom, but Dad hasn't been here I think since July, so the first night she was a bit unsure. Someone plunked her down on his lap, and within seconds she was crying and he was rushing to hand her back. Oh no! But by the next day she was sitting in his lap and playing with him and head-butting him (she's not quite coordinated enough to kiss you without some support still) and getting her little fingerprints all over his glasses. Or if I held her and stood next to him, she would reach her over and grab his sleeve or smile and then duck her head and laugh. Much joy to see.

Last night got a little over the top. Glen's parents drove down to bring us their car for the winter (for the au pair - thank God!!!) and stayed the night. You know, when we bought our house, I remember thinking one of the main things I liked was that we would be able to fit the whole family at once. Be careful what you wish for??? Glen's dad alone takes up so much space... Of course, poor Emma had a minor meltdown at lunch and we had just gotten home and were going to nurse her to sleep when Jim and Ellie AND the cleaning lady and her assistant arrived. So much for any peace to get Emma calm, but we got her through a few smaller naps into the evening and then things went a bit smoother. This morning I was smart enough to feed her before trying to descend into the familial maelstrom, so they were all treated to smiles and smiles. This meant we had everyone in the kitchen together watching her and trying to eat breakfast and take pictures, plus the dogs (including my parents' dog, so three of them)... Anyway, everyone has left this morning and peace will hopefully descend again tonight. The best news of all - several nights in a row of sleeping around 9-5. We were so fussy last week, then all of a sudden, like magic... Not even going to try and hope this is a new pattern, just enjoying while it lasts!

Emma kisses

2006-10-04T11:24:00.000-07:00

Our baby has learned how to kiss! Well, sortof, in her own Emma way. See, I think we spent too many months kissing her and then looking at her in mock surprise. Since her newborn vision wasn't so clear, what she mostly saw was mommy's face getting really close, and then the big open-mouthed surprise and smile afterward. So now when you go to kiss her, she opens her mouth really wide, sometimes drooling just for extra effect, smiling like crazy. And these last couple of days - she kisses us! As with everything she does, so amazing and cute. As I stand her on my lap, she reaches out her little hands for my face, leans forward, and sticks her wide open mouth against my face somewhere in the vicinity of my mouth. Lips, chin, cheeks - all have now been given slobbery wet wonderful kisses, followed by more wonderful smiles and giggles. God I love this kid! And she does it to Daddy too. Granted, I had to explain to him what it was, since it doesn't exactly look like we expect, but once he got it he was just glowing. She also gave him a hug the other day - really put her arms around both sides of his neck and leaned in. And last night, as we were walking up the stairs, she started laughing at him over my shoulder. I have no idea why, but she was laughing like a little lunatic, so of course both of us were laughing too and beaming with parental pride. Emma laughs. Emma kisses. These are the moments I hope we remember...

Mmm mmm good?

2006-10-02T12:28:00.000-07:00

So, these days I don't know whether to laugh or be worried about Emma's communications skills. Giggling we defintely got. A couple of consonants occasionally. But mostly what we hear is a series of "mmm"s in varying levels. She's got her little lips locked up tight, top folded over the bottom, just mmmm-ing away. She's clearly expressing things. Are you happy Emma? Mmmm! Tickles? Mmmm. Playing with Mommy's hair? MMMM! Frustrated. M.M.M.M. Sleepy? mmmmmmmm... I tell her she's the queen of humming and so cute, but she's got to open her little lips to tell her story!

First day of the season...

2006-09-27T04:57:00.000-07:00

Yeah!!! Today is the first day of the season... Boots season! Have I mentioned how much I love boots? Today I am wearing my "signature" outfit: black boots, my favorite grey skirt, and a brand new black sweater from Ann Taylor. (The sweater could be any sweater, really, as long as it's black and from Ann Taylor. I collect them like black shoes - a girl can never have too many!) My outfit today makes me feel deliciously skinny and sexy (not scrawny). I am standing up taller and just feel plain old good. For the moment, banishment of the dead zombie mommy. If I could just figure a day to get my hair done, everything would be pretty darn close to perfect. Maybe next week.

Of course, all this gushiness could be due to the fact that I got lots of sleep last night! Thank God, a night of sweet blissful peace. Emma crashed HARD on my lap at about 7:30 after a fun evening of talking and playing with daddy (I actually left them sleeping together on the bed at one point while I made dinner. That was a nice change too - no Emma crying because I have chicken or shrimp on my fingers and can't pick her up. How does she know the exact moment when I get something on my hands? She's fine till then...) Anyway, Emma fell asleep on my lap after a good long nursing. Not just asleep, but out cold, limbs all limp and flung everywhere, head falling back and mouth open. She did everything but snore, my precious little munchkin! When I took her upstairs later, she woke up enough while I was putting on her pajamas to grab my hands. She wouldn't let go till I looked at her beautiful eyes, and she smiled this huge huge smile that makes the world stand still every time. She giggled through the rest of changing, and her warm weight in my arms as I rocked and nursed her to sleep was as sweet as could be. I wonder if God ever feels this way when we smile at Him? When we finally stop struggling and fussing and look at Him with such love in our eyes, and it's all worth it again...

up, down, up down

2006-09-26T07:47:00.000-07:00

Where to start today? I'm out of breath with so many things happening lately. Last night was bad, today I can't keep up at all. Where to start?

OK, so Friday was a GREAT day. We'll start there. Friday my husband and I played hooky for the day, happily handing Emma over to her au pair like any other weekday and jumping on the train to New York City. It's the first real outing we've had alone, and it was wonderful. For once I didn't even feel guilty leaving her, and also didn't feel the overwhelming urge to rush rush rush back. What a blessing by itself. There are some good things to having an au pair... So, we started with a nice lunch and a glass of wine at a little french bistro. So sunny and even HOT that we had to change seats! That's something to be savored as we ease into Autumn (even though Fall is really my favorite - boots! Turtlenecks! I digress...) We wandered the streets window shopping and holding hands, and made our way to Union Square. After looking at all the artists and the fruit and veggie market, smelling the fresh basil and munching on raspberry pastries, we just sat on a bench and breathed together. Should we nap? Should we shop more? Should we go on to the Met? The wonder of options, with no Emma to consider. We need to do that more often, if only to maintain our own sense of selves. After a long pause, I was starting to notice that full feeling. As a bit of a drag, I had to bring along the trusty old Pump In Style, but admittedly I do feel pretty good knowing I am still providing for my baby, even while stealing away... Just as I was wondering where to perform such an awkward act (much weirder than breastfeeding and I'm not quite up to pumping in public, even if it was NYC!) lo and behold, peeping through the trees was a purple "r us." Know what's attached to that? "Babies!" Yeah! "Babies r us" is great because they have a "mothers' room" designed just for feeding, pumping, changing, and all other things public and private baby. A little tidbit of perfect timing, for which I was grateful. After that, we walked and then grabbed the subway up to Central Park. For the first time, found we both missed Emma. There were little kids and mommies/nannies with strollers everywhere. Thoughts of taking Emma to the zoo, climbing the rocks, playing on the grass. Even dreaming of breastfeeding her in some little secluded grassy circle of our own. We stopped to listen to a streetband and watched the toddlers dance and stare. It was almost like a physical ache, wanting her to be there with us, and we kept telling each other "next time, next time." Now we know. From there we did go to the Met. I wanted to find the Man in the Bowler Hat - from my favorite movie The Thomas Crown Affair - but sadly we didn't find him. We did, however, find our way to the rooftop cafe, where we spent some romantic minutes sitting with that view of the city. Not a bad way to end the day, and we have to go back. Now we have a list, or at least there's one in my head, of all the things we didn't get to do and see that we need to go back for. The angel in the park, washington square, shows, more park, FAO schwartz, food, food, food. Glen wants to do some of the other neighborhoods, we both think we need more trips (small bites) to the Met. Some with Emma, some not. The trick will be just to remember and get off our butts next time when we're feeling lazy and not up to the trip. To remember that we had more energy at the end of the day than at the beginning.

The weekend pretty much went down, up, down down down from there. We just couldn't seem to get it together. We went to the mall and I got to shop for clothes, which was great, but did one store too many and she went from happy sleeping stroller baby to crying inconsolable car baby and fussy not wanting to go to bed nighttime baby. Sunday was a mess of missed opportunities. Seemed like every time Glen needed something from me, I was feeding Emma or trying to convince her to nap. Every time I needed Glen to help with her, he was immersed in some project. Just at odds all day, and ending with a total meltdown caused mainly by my waking her up one too many times to do something (groceries, dinner). I think we also might be trying to many things at once in terms of training her, to tell the truth. First, the pediatrician (was it only last week? the week before? it's running together...) told us to stop feeding her every two hours and really work on getting her to a longer interval. Wouldn't worry so much, except she used the magic reasoning that continuing the way we were will end up making her overeat and could cause problems in the long run (ie make her fat!). Panic, instant change must happen. I mean, trying to be reasonable, but it's hard when you hear that you might be doing something harmful. So, working on that. Even though that's mostly the au pair's job during the day, we're seeing little changes at night. She wants to eat when she wants to eat! Also, finally gave in to my husband and moved her for the whole night to her crib. This breaks my heart - can she really be old enough for her own room? - and leaves me terrified - what if someone comes and steals her away? - but is probably a good thing. It is nicer not having to tiptoe around at bedtime like stealth mommy, and I don't cringe anymore every time Glen snores or the dogs shake their collars. But still... But, she does seem to be getting up more often now. She used to just get up once a night, around 3 or 4. Some nights she would even go all night (scaring me, of course, but she was only sleeping happily!). Now, no such luck. 11:30 and 3:00. We tried one night to get her back to sleep without constant nursing, but after an exhausting hour decided that was just too much. I know we need to find a way to get her to sleep without my breast, but I just can't do it right now. She needs sleep more than training. The other thing we realized is that she's falling asleep in my arms at 7:30 or 8 most nights anyway, so it seemed logical to shift her bedtime to that, instead of waking her up at 9 to take her upstairs. OK, seems logical, but in practice it means she's missing one feeding at night, also probably contributing to the waking up. There are just so many things to try and do, I know in my heart they are all good but just too many at once. The au pair is begging me to try and get her to sleep without the breast so Emma will sleep better during the day, my husband is begging me to get her onto the new schedule in her own room so he can sleep and maybe we can even feel like husband and wife again instead of exhausted zombie parents. I just want peace and sleep. And for her to be healthy and happy and to wake up every morning to her miraculous smile.

So, last night topped it all off because not only did Emma get up twice, but the au pair woke everyone up when she came in and the dogs started barking (why now? they don't do that most nights), and the monitor mysteriously started making these static noises that kept me awake. I finally tuned them out, and then woke to Glen leaning over me asking what the hell the noise was - he thought it was a mouse scratching! Finally figured out the monitor and the phone are interacting. Since we need the monitor, out went the phone... Oh, and along with moving her to her room, we're having fun monitor games. Like so many low-end audio things, there is really no low volume. There are only loud and useless settings. Since I've woken up twice hearing her screaming in real life stereo (monitor and voice) while trying to keep the monitor low (ie useless setting), I've come to the conclusion that we'll have to go with loud. Not ideal, and I hear her fussing more and Glen wishes I would just turn it down "because we'll hear her anyway", but also less unpleasant than waking up to baby already in full cry (because we didn't hear her) and flying half-dressed down the hall, trying to find arms and legs in my sweats and leaping over black and white doggy shadow forms and oh yeah, not waking up everyone else... This way at least I get some warning and can wake up a few minutes before she's all out. Knowing again that this is going to work better in the long run, but I swear I haven't had a real night's sleep since we moved her...

Anyway, again I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, so the other thing was Jesse. My beloved old baby Jesse was up all night, panting and pacing and drinking and panting and pacing... For some reason at about 4:30 am, after I had been peacefully sleeping from Emma's last feeding, Jesse decides to start barking. Not like someone is breaking in, just one at a time. She wants attention. I don't know why, but clearly she is determined to get it. I kicked Glen out of bed and he let her out, but no better. I finally got out of bed and laid down on the floor with her. My poor old baby. I still don't know what was wrong, but at least she stopped pacing. I did get a few kisses finally too, but then she stood outside the shower staring at me (panting) and when I left for work she was wedged in between the au pair's legs. I don't know what to do for her. Is she hurt? Sick? Or just sad because she's not the center of my world anymore. Wish I knew what to do for her.

But, the light at the end of the tunnel. Joy of my life. Emma smiled when I woke her up this morning and reached up and grabbed my hands. She buries her face in my chest as I pick her up, and gurgles shyly at her dad when he kisses her good morning. As I made breakfast, she kept up a steady stream of baby talk. I asked her questions about her dreams - did you dream about fish? turtles? horses? cows? She laughed and smiled and babbled at trees and Davy Crockett and possibly Pop-Pop (but he's kindof like Davy Crockett), so I guess that's what she dreamed about. My darling baby. Sleep deprived, shaky, in search of caffeine and food, I am suddenly smiling. I am in love. My Emma.

end of week 4...

2006-09-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

Thursday... (excerpted from an email to my support group)

This week things have definitely gotten better. Fewer tears and a lessening of the guilts. We've had some rough moments, but I'm learning to take those more in stride and not let them get out of proportion. A bad night is just a bad night, not a major disaster or (frighteningly) a new trend. A fussy day is just a fussy day. I've come to recognize that a good morning almost always means a rougher afternoon or evening, and vice versa, but a smile cures absolutely everything! In fact, we had a horrible night a few days ago (up 5 times! Ugh!) I was dragging pretty bad as I got up, but when I went to get Emma up, there she was sleeping like an angel with her arms flung out wide. As I looked at her, she opened her eyes a bit and there was that sleepy half-smile when she saw me and did her wriggly stretch. It's amazing how the whole night disappeared in an instant with all that love. Then the other day was maybe the first time I got home that Emma didn't know I was there right away. She was playing in her exersaucer and turned round the wrong way. I snuck up behind and spun her around, and when she saw me this giant beautiful smile bloomed up all over her face. Now THAT's a moment worth waiting for! She can smile all day long at the au pair as long as I get to come home to that. I admit to only one real sad spell this week, and that was one of those times when I was sneaking off to the irresistible babycenter web site at work and came across a string of comments about all these mommies reading books to their babies. I love to read, and one of my own fondest memories that I hope to repeat with Emma is sitting with my mother on the couch reading (and both eating bowls of cherries and blueberries). So many of the comments talked about how these moms are reading at naptimes, several times during the day… I do try to read to Emma, but it's so hit or miss in the evenings whether she'll be in the right mood (quiet, but not too tired and not hungry) to sit for more than a few seconds. So, a quiet wish for more time in that sense. Still, we do what we can and I know the au pair is reading to her too, so even if it's not all me maybe she'll still learn to love it.

Tomorrow I have a glorious day off (playing hooky), and my husband and I are stealing it away to go to New York City by ourselves. Gasp! A romantic adventure? Can it be? I will NOT feel guitly, and I will enjoy every minute! Of course, we might have to stop in FAO Schwartz - it's a NYC landmark after all, right? And if we happen to find something to bring home to our munchkin, well, that's OK, right?

Anyway, again, hope you are all good and may nursing still be a pleasure. 4 and a half months for us - did I ever really think we'd make it this far?

Week 4 - getting easier

2006-09-18T05:42:00.000-07:00

So, today marks the beginning of week 4 back at work. I have to admit, it is getting easier. I did not cry this morning, just a few long sighs (but many many many kisses) and the guilt over the fact that I did not cry is not so heavy either. I still find it amazing the way my head and heart occasionally conspire against me some days! Emma still seems to be doing well, and she usually smiles at me as I walk away. Clearly she suffers no agonies of separation and guilt! Also doing better with the au pair, although I am looking forward to the day when we switch to daycare. I know in my heart that this is good for Emma. Being home is a happy place for her and she is well cared for. But wishing she were two blocks away instead and I could be looking forawrd to feeding her at lunch instead of pumping... Realized that by the time she gets to daycare, she'll be nine months old - probably pretty close to weaning from breastfeeding. So sad! Better to think of other things quick!

This weekend we went to a wedding for one of Glen's oldest friends. Another first for me - pumping at a wedding! Physical necessity sure trumps reserve or shyness. I shouldered my black backpack pump and boldly carried it into the reception! Luckily, it was at a country club that has these fancy rooms there for wedding guests, and someone was kind enough to loan me use of their room for 20 minutes. The only strategic snag was I wore a long dress with no fastenings on top, so it was a little awkward trying to drag the neck down low enough to get to the breasts. It looked like everything survived intact, but we'll see after the cleaners whether I did any real damage to the seems. Sigh. All worth it though. I did meet two mothers, both of whom said the "couldn't" breastfeed and claimed to envy me, though they did not seem to miss the pumping thing. One had a latching problem, the other said dairy bothers her baby and she couldn't seem to get it out of her diet. I wonder would I have perservered if I had such issues? I know my first reaction was surprise by the clear "couldn't" statement. I mean, after hearing in my support group the lengths some women went to to make it work, these two seemed ridiculously mild. Is it so hard to avoid dairy? Or have I become one of the breastfeeding nazis I dreaded early on? Glen seems to think I'm just much stronger, stronger than I give myself credit for. I wonder if they just didn't have the support I do at Pennsylvania hospital, and once again thank God for such strength and help. And at the end of the day, I am so very thankful I have gotten to nurse and nurture her this way. Yesterday too made me realize how easily this time could be interrupted, as I had my first experience with blocked milk ducts. It seemed like one side of one breast was just completely clogged, hard as a rock and so painful. I tried hot showers, massage (massage massage massage all day long), heating pads, and only fed her from that side, so pumping off the other in between. Glen didn't really understand in the morning, but by bedtime even he was starting to be concerned with the agonizingly hard knots. We basically made the decision to call the doc first thing in the morning if they didn't get better, but I was wondering how I would get through the night if it got worse... The only thing that really let me fall asleep was knowing that this only hurt me, it didn't affect Emma. And part of the solution is almost always to breastfeed through it, so even though it made me realize how much more precious the feeding is, still I knew this wouldn't stop it. But, like I do every night, I said my prayers while feeding Emma her last of the evening, and I asked God to clear it away. And this morning there are still a few lumps, but sometime during the night things loosened up, and so much relief.

Speaking of, one last thing before I go pump... Emma baby, I know you don't understand yet, but I do pray over you every single night as you slip off to sleep. I pray for God to watch over you and to send his angels to guard you as you sleep. I pray for your health and happiness, so that you may always smile. And I pray that God wraps His arms around you so tightly so you can feel Him and know His love. I hope that I can teach you about Him, but even if I fumble it, I ask that you get to know Him and feel Him all around. And baby as you sleep so perfectly and peacefully, in the quiet dark of the room Glen and I made so much in love for you, I know He is listening. My beautiful baby. Sleep.

for myself

2006-09-08T12:18:00.000-07:00

For myself and Emma... I just want Emma to be able to read some day about how this all went, so she knows that it was hard but also that she is worth every second.

Going back to work has been one of the hardest things I think I've ever done. It's not like going to school or starting some new exciting job or moving to Germany - this time I think I really am missing more than I'm gaining. I've gone back to a job that I don't love so much, and each moment I know that someone else is watching you smile or sleep or cry. Every day I wonder if I have made the right choice, and every day I decide to try one more day, hoping that the next day will be better. Some have been, but then other days are harder and my emotions range all over the board. This morning I realized that I wasn't crying when I left the house - a first - and then I felt guilty because I wasn't sad enough! Like not crying meant I miss you less or love you less - HA! Still, everything as a new mom is different and brings thoughts and feelings I never imagined such a strong professional like me would have. I thought by now I would be tired of staying home and bored silly, but instead I discovered that being with you and being your mother is more rewarding than anything I've ever accomplished. Some days are hard, of course - days when we can't even get dressed properly or get out of the house - but other days just seem to be a world of discovery and joy. So why am I here at work? Practically, there are some pretty good reasons. Money, benefits. Not that we couldn't live with a smaller pay for me, but it would be tight. And mostly, what if I did stop working? Though I have been soulsearching for weeks now, I still don't know what else I would do. Lots of ideas like going back to school or switching into other career areas, but nothing I can really grab onto. So if I stopped, what would I have to go back to? Some day you'll grow and be out of the house again, and then what? I know alot of moms who say that their career was never the same. Is that OK? It might be, but I'm not sure enough yet to quite let go. In my most quiet moments, I feel called to go back to school for literature and religion. But then I don't know what I would do with it, and again there's that fear of letting go without knowing... What I do know is that I want to do my best for you, and that I want to pass on the feeling of bravely knowing you can do anything, anything you want.

My baby Emma, this time with you is so amazing. Being away from you certainly makes me appreciate more the time with you. Maybe it took coming back to work and pumping to make me really see how much I like breastfeeding you. It definitely took coming back to work to make me treasure that 3 am feeding! In fact, the last few days you've almost slept through that early morning time, and I've gotten you up. Partly because I know that's the best time to feed you to start your day and keep my milk supply up. But admittedly it's more because I am not willing to give up that time with you where it's just us in the dark, in the sanctuary that your father built for us. I know too that I am tired when I get home, and probably not as exciting as Melanie in some ways - that's hard. This is still new to me too, and making up games is not always my strongest skill! But even just those times when you lay on the bed looking up at me and we sing and play with feet and hands are a joy to me, and I think to you too. They make me remember that I don't have to be exciting all the time - I just have to be there for you. For now at least my face is still a world for you, just as yours is for me. You tiny hands are two little miracles, your feet the most irresistible things to kiss. And exploring each other is the best game anyone ever invented.

As I continue these weeks, I pray that God will help me figure out what to do. If it's right for me to stay, let me get more comfortable. If it's time to do something else, a little help? And in everything, let there be angels watching over Emma and our little family, guiding us and keeping us safe. amen

The Congo - for reading aloud

2006-09-08T11:20:00.002-07:00

Yes, a strange seeming choice for baby, but she loves the sounds! To be accompanied by chants and kisses ("BOOM"!) and tickles and stomping feet or drums by Dad whenever possible...

The Congo
By Vachel Lindsay

A Study of the Negro Race

I—THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY

Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard as they were able,
Boom, boom, BOOM,
With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.

THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.
I could not turn from their revel in derision.
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

Then along that riverbank
thousand miles
tattooed cannibals danced in files;
Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song
And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.
And “BLOOD!” screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,
“BLOOD!” screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors;
“Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,
Harry the uplands,
Steal all the cattle,
Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,
Bing!
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM!”

A roaring, epic, rag-time tune
From the mouth of the Congo
To the Mountains of the Moon.
Death is an Elephant,
Torch-eyed and horrible,
Foam-flanked and terrible.
BOOM, steal the pygmies,
BOOM, kill the Arabs,
BOOM, kill the white men,
HOO, HOO, HOO.

Listen to the yell of Leopold’s ghost
Like the wind in the chimney
Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.
Hear how the demons chuckle and yell
Cutting his hands off, down in Hell.
Listen to the creepy proclamation,
Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation,
Blown past the white-ants’ hill of clay,
Blown past the marsh where the butterflies play:—
“Be careful what you do,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.”

II—THEIR IRREPRESSIBLE HIGH SPIRITS

Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call
Danced the juba in their gambling-hall
And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,
And guyed the policemen and laughed them down
With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.

THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

A negro fairyland swung into view,
A minstrel river
Where dreams come true.
The ebony palace soared on high
Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.
The inlaid porches and casements shone
With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.
And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore
At the baboon butler in the agate door,
And the well-known tunes of the parrot band
That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.

A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came
Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,
Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust
And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.
And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call
And danced the juba from wall to wall.
But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng
With a great deliberation and ghostliness
With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song:
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.”…

Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes
Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats
Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,
And tall silk hats that were red as wine.
And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,
Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,
Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,
And bells on their ankles and little black feet.
And the couples railed at the chant and the frown
Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.
(Oh, rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.)

The cake-walk royalty then began
To walk for a cake that was tall as a man
To the tune of “Boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,”
While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,
And sang with the scalawags prancing there:
“Walk with care, walk with care,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Beware, beware, walk with care,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay,
BOOM.”

Oh, rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.

III—THE HOPE OF THEIR RELIGION

A good old negro in the slums of the town
Preached at a sister for her velvet gown.
Howled at a brother for his low-down ways,
His prowling, guzzling, sneak-thief days.
Beat on the Bible till he wore it out
Starting the jubilee revival shout.
And some had visions, as they stood on chairs,
And sang of Jacob, and the golden stairs.
And they all repented, a thousand strong,
From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong,
And slammed with their hymn-books till they shook the room
With “Glory, glory, glory,”
And “Boom, boom, BOOM.”

THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil
And showed the apostles with their coats of mail.
In bright white steel they were seated round,
And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.
And the twelve Apostles, from their thrones on high,
Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry:
Sung to the tune of “Hark, ten thousand harps and voices”
“Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle;
Never again will he hoo-doo you,
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”

Then along that river, a thousand miles
The vine-snared trees fell down in files.
Pioneer angels cleared the way
For a Congo paradise, for babes at play,
For sacred capitals, for temples clean.
Gone were the skull-faced witch-men lean.
There, where the wild ghost-gods had wailed,
A million boats of the angels sailed
With oars of silver, and prows of blue
And silken pennants that the sun shone through.
’Twas a land transfigured, ’twas a new creation.
Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation,
And on through the backwoods clearing flew:—
To the tune of “Hark, ten thousand harps and voices”
“Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”

Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men
And only the vulture dared again
By the far, lone mountains of the moon
To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune:
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Mumbo … Jumbo … will … hoo-doo … you.”

Ickle Me Pickle Me Tickle Me Too

2006-09-08T11:08:00.000-07:00

So, we've definitely learned that Emma likes being read to, especially fun sounds. In fact, I've discovered that I like reading to her. Even things that I wouldn't necessarily think of immediately for a baby can become perfect for reading. Like a few weeks ago I read her a chapter ("The Pinch Bug") from Tom Sawyer and we were both smiling all through. The other night I read her "The Congo" by Vachel Lindsay, which has all kinds of fun up and down rhythms ("Boomlay boomlay boomlay BOOM!"). And number one on her hit list so far:

"Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too"

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too,
Went for a ride in a flying shoe,
"Hooray!"
"What fun!"
"It's time we flew!"
Said Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle was captain,
Pickle was crew,
And Tickle served coffee
and mulligan stew
As higher
And higher
And higher they flew,
Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too,
Over the sun and beyond the blue.
"Hold on!"
"Stay in!"
"I hope we do!"
Cried Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too
Never returned to the world they knew,
And nobody knows what's happened to
Dear Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Written by Shel Silverstein (1930-1999)

I think in this one it's that "oo" sound (shoe, flew, knew). Reminds us all of the scrunchy, stretchy, pursed lips face she used to make when she was tiny. Matt Huuuuuuuuuuughes!

Rise and Shine (aaaaaaaaargh)

2006-09-08T10:35:00.000-07:00

Running running running through my head - blame it on my mother!!!

Rise and Shine
(Children of the Lord)
(The Arky Arky Song)
Written By: Unknown
Copyright Unknown

The Lord said to Noah:
There's gonna be a floody, floody
The Lord said to Noah:
There's gonna be a floody, floody
Get those children
out of the muddy, muddy
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The Lord told Noah
To build him an arky, arky
The Lord told Noah
To build him an arky, arky
Build it out of
gopher barky, barky
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

He called for the animals,
They came in by twosie, twosies
He called for the animals,
They came in by twosie, twosies
Elephants and kangaroosie, roosies
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

It rained and it poured
For forty daysie, daysies
It rained and it poured
For forty daysie, daysies
Almost drove those animals crazy, crazies,
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

Then Noah he sent out
He sent out a dovey dovey
Noah he sent out
He sent out a dovey dovey
Dovey said "There's clear skies abovey-bovey"
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The sun came out and
It dried up the landy landy
The sun came out and
It dried up the landy landy
Everything was fine and dandy, dandy
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The animals they came off
They came off by three-sies three-sies
Animals they came off
They came off by three-sies three-sies
Grizzly bears and chimpanzee-sies zee-sies
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord.

That is the end of,
The end of my story, story
That is the end of,
The end of my story, story
Everything is hunky dory, dory
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

... whew! make it stop...

week 2 back to work

2006-09-08T09:58:00.000-07:00

(excepted from an email to my breastfeeding support friends)

So, week number two of full time work winds to a close… I hope this finds you all well and still happily home! I suppose this week has been easier, although it seems like I have a new emotion every two hours. Most importantly, Emma seems to be doing great. She smiles so often and laughs and she's got this new mischievous look that I love. It's sortof lopsided and she turns her head just a bit like she's shy and I just know in a year or two it's going to mean trouble! She's still eating as much as I can make and more - difficult to decide if it's more growth or just a new pattern - but she's wonderfully pudgy and playful and active and the formula doesn't seem to trouble her, so I'm learning to just relax and go with it. I've gotten to where when I pump, instead of worrying about whether it's too little or not, with every squeeze I think how this is another mouthful she won't have to drink of formula. Sortof like they said about breastfeeding at first - a day is better than none, a week is better than a day, three months is better than one… Whatever comes out is better than formula. So far the psychology of that seems to be working! :)
Getting used to the au pair is a different story. Again, Emma seems to be doing well with her. She never seems distressed in the mornings when I leave (as long as I smile - she doesn't seem to notice if the smile is a bit watery!), and when I get home in the evenings she's happy. Yesterday I got home and she was asleep. When she woke up she of course started to cry, but as soon as she saw me this huge smile lit up her face. Moments like that make everything worth it! Still, I watch like the mama bear that we all are, and I check her every day for rashes and mysterious bumps or bruises, and I search her face anxiously for any other possible signs of unhappiness. I do like the au pair, but admittedly it's not so easy getting used to having someone else living with us and getting to spend more time with Emma than I do. It's rewarding to know she's well-cared for when I see her smiling at the au pair, but there's also that stab of envy, especially when the au pair does something to make her laugh that I didn't know. This morning even Emma was all smiles with me, but when I left her with the au pair to get dressed, I could hear them "talking", and it was really like Emma was having a conversation with her! She was babbling and giggling. Made me want to throw my pajamas back on and play hooky and never leave the house again! On the flip side I suppose it's good, Emma gets exposed to other games and things that in truth the au pair has more experience at, just hard to watch. The au pair already promised that she basically wouldn't tell me if Emma did anything really dramatic (like walking) so that whenever she does it for me and my hsuband it will be (for us) the first time. The au pair told me the other day that someone at the grocery store mistook Emma for hers, and since they offered her a baby dicsount card she happily let the mistake go. She asked me later if I minded someone thinking Emma was hers. Even as I rationally said no, especially if she got discounts for it, my heart was screaming "Yes! Of course I mind!" That's MY baby! In some ways I think it's good that we're only planning to have the au pair for about 6 months. It gives Emma a great start, but I don't know if I could really manage having someone else make such a deep impression on her. I hear these stories of other families where the au pair was practically part of the family and stayed with them for years and years, and I can't imagine it. I just don't think I could do that.

Anyway, I suppose I have digressed far from the topic of breastfeeding, but it's all wrapped up together for me this week. Did have the experience yesterday of having to pump for the first time from an office not my own. I had a meeting across town for the day, so off I went with my little black backpack… After some awkwardness (mostly on my part), a kindly contact there donated his office for the cause. I find that surprisingly most people I've dealt with now have been supportive - it's mostly just me that feels weird asking! Did OK though, and probably every encounter like that will make me more confident doing this.

Funny, I've noticed that talking about Emma and breastfeeding tends to make me have letdown… In other words, time to go pump!

Week 1 - continued (also September 1)

2006-09-08T09:54:00.000-07:00

OK, I admit - I am cheating here and pasting in an email I sent, but last week just getting a few emails out had me dangerously close to tears and meltdowns at work, and it's seems like my emotions change every five minutes...

This has definitely been a much harder week than the one with the grandmas. It was so much easier knowing that the two people watching her would probably give their lives for her. Also, then I knew that I would have some time off again. Being here really full time is like going back to school, but worse! And even though Melanie has been really good with Emma, we have had all sorts of rough spots in the "house rules" area. Some day I'll tell you that whole story, but suffice it to say I've considered not doing this several times seriously based on house stuff, and if she weren't so good with Emma she'd be gone by now… Also, as you see in the other email, pumping has been hard to get used to. I am determined to make it work as much as I can, but the guilt of not being able to stay 100% breast milk is getting to me. Glen keeps trying to remind me that we always said we would do what we could and not be unreasonable - formula fed babies like him survive just fine! But somehow I just thought since the nursing was going so well, why shouldn't pumping go well too? In fairness, Melanie says she thinks I am making a lot more milk than many women and there are a lot of mothers who can't produce enough even when breastfeeding normally, but still it lingers…

Emma seems to be happy though, that's the important thing. Of course, then I get the opposite emotion of how can she be so happy when I'm not there? Doesn't she miss me? Struggling with the realization that Melanie already knows some of her new tricks and noises better than I do. She discovered that Emma likes "Ickle me pickle me tickle me too" (… went to ride in a flying shoe… Shel Silverstein) and I am jealous that I didn't get to read it to her first… Melanie is also good at being creative and finding new things to do, and in the evenings, much as I love Emma, the brain is not quick enough to make up so many new things. Again, thankful that I still have the nursing. Selfish selfish selfish, but don't know what I would do without that to myself.

Week 1 back at work (written September 1)

2006-09-08T09:51:00.000-07:00

Not surprisingly, Monday was very hard. Walking out of my house and leaving little Emma with the au pair may have been one of the hardest things I ever did, in fact. Even though we had a good week of orientation and I could clearly see how well she was doing with Emma and how Emma really is responding to her, I discovered that leaving your baby with someone who is not family goes against every single instinct in my body. I was so scared all day, and wildly convinced that I would get home and find them gone…Of course, they were not gone, and Emma was happy and smiling. So, it definitely seems like this week has been harder than on me than on her. So many emotions, and only half of th em probably reasonable. Questioning our choice of childcare, questioning my choice to go back to work at all. Dealing with work and the craziness here at FEMA with Hurricane Ernesto coming. The only good thing about having a hurricane coming our way is it leaves very little time at work to brood! Trying to work out the whole pumping thing and get myself on somewhat of a schedule each day too - not easy to do and be discrete with meetings every hour or so. My work did give me the key to a little "relaxation room" with an easy chair and a sink, so I have some privacy. Thankfully I have the support of senior leadership here (including two mothers - one of twins) who really want me to succeed in this nursing thing. That helps a lot. I also have the support of my supervisor - being a man, he really doesn't want to hear about it, but if I needed something he'd be there for me.

Physically it's been a bit challenging. I find I need to eat real food a lot more often than I used to (even more probably than when I was pregnant), so trying to squeeze in time to eat more than chips regularly. Also, the milk supply has been a little low. I think at the beginning of the week I was really stressed (go figure!), and I was not getting as much as I have in the past. At home with Emma was fine, but pumping I'm not quite getting enough to feed her all day while I'm at work. Luckily I had a bit frozen from a week or two ago. Slowly it seems like my "production" has been coming back up, but still a few ounces shy. So the au pair had to give her some formula for two days, which immediately made me feel so sad and like a failure! Part of me knows that she's still getting mostly breast milk and a bottle or two of formula won't hurt, but we were doing so well on the breastfeeding that I guess I just t hought pumping would go well too. It's probably going better than can reasonably be expected with so much change and worry, but we all want to be supermom, no? Guilt guilt guilt. My husband told me the problem is I see myself as Clark Kent and can't see the giant "S" on my chest that everyone else sees… Also, as predicted by the lactation consultant, Emma's sleep has been thrown totally off. Still getting at least 4 hours a night, but not consistently 6 anymore and the times are all off. Some nights I can't seem to get her off my breast at all. She is definitely making up for our time apart! Also, we've almost always gotten up between 3 and 4 to eat, but where we used to go back to sleep after, now she's been staying fussy and again not wanting to come off. She falls asleep latched firmly on (which is admittedly very sweet) and wakes up the instant I try to pull back. Something about that magic hour of sleep be tween 4 and 5 am apparently is very important to my body, because the couple of mornings now when I haven't been able to get it have been pretty rough. I do have to say, though, that on the flip side that 3 or 4 am feeding has become really important to me as a quiet time with her. No work, no au pair, no husband - just her and me and the quiet dark. I have nothing to focus on but her warm sleepy weight and the little noises she makes, and it reminds me over and over how completely amazing this is. You know, I think I sortof fell into breastfeeding originally as something I should do, but lately I've come to realize how much I like it and now I know I would choose it consciously again.

digging in

2006-07-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

May your roots go down deep into the soil of God's marvelous love.

Ephesians 3:17, NLT

Tiny roots
stretching
stretching
stretching.

kfc

Those perfect moments

2006-07-27T10:00:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't really had a chance to write much since little Emma was born. It's just over two months, and maybe we've finally learned enough about each other to get sortof a rhythm to our days. Still not easy, and I'm standing at the kitchen counter typing with her in her carrier, bouncing just a little so she sleeps on...

I do very much want to keep a record of all that is happening. So much, and it flies by so fast! I want to remember it all, and I want there to be a record so she knows how much I love her and how I treasure these precious moments. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for motherhood, except that somewhere along the way God blessed me with the ability to enjoy life moment to moment. That's so important now! When I think about the last two months as a whole, they're very much a blur of not eating, sleeping, trying to get her to sleep or eat, and of course loving her and holding her. There are days when I find that I've just spent 3 hours not moving from the same chair, watching terrible daytime tv and letting her nap and my hand has gone numb under her. But through that blur there are those magic moments, those spots in time that I hope I never forget. There are minutes dancing with her in my arms to Jimmy Buffett or Disney, seeing her smile up at me and knowing she's happy. There is that first time she looked at me and smiled and reached out her arms for me. (She was propped up in the living room recliner, and I was putting on her snugli carrier and asking if she was ready to be mommy's little helper... That still may have been a coincidence of uncoordination for her, but I'll always treasure it!) There are times when she's just on the edge of sleep, when I run my hands through her hair or run a finger oh so gently down her nose, and she slips into perfect contented peace. In fact,that's what brought this blog on - she's in her carrier, and I was standing in the kitchen thinking about what I've come in lower moments to think of as the "endless succession of days." Even though I wouldn't give up these months at home for the world, it is hard not having something solid to focus on - no goal, no project to complete. Everything is tied up in her, and it's not like you can make a goal be getting her to smile 20 times today! Some days the biggest thing to plan for is a trip to Barnes and Noble or the grocery store. Not easy for someone like me who thrives in a crisis work environment! Still, just as I was thinking about all that, I noticed Emma was awake, just looking up at me with this perfect look of sleepy peace. I knew in that instant that she loves me, and she knows she's safe here in my arms, and she's happy to be here. She kindof sighed and nodded her head forward to rest on my chest, and one arm came up and a hand rested on my arm softly. Amazing. Just like that I'm in love all over again, and there's nothing more important in the whole world than that tiny hand on my arm. Lunch went cold, and I even waited to type this until she went limp with heavy sleep and her hand slipped off. Never in a million years could I have imagined this before she was born. And now, words don't seem adequate. I wonder if any poem can capture this feeling? It's like the movie Contact, when Jodie Foster gets to the new solar system and she cries because it's so beautiful. She says "no words", and then she says they should have sent a poet. I thought I was a poet, but this... this is beyond me. So far beyond.

Golden sun slips through the trees,
gathering leaves one by one.
A bird sings:
The dawning of a smile.

The Sound of Joy!

2006-07-26T05:06:00.000-07:00

On May 12, 2006, at 4:28 pm, Emma Josephine was born, and our new life together began.

To my baby girl, this is how it happened...

At 2:24 in the morning, I woke to a pop. Not quite sound, not quite physical feeling, somehow I woke knowing something had just happened. As was my habit late in the pregnancy any time I woke up at night, I got up and went to the bathroom, to discover that something felt funny. I wasn't really sure though, probably couldn't quite believe it might be time yet, so I tried to go back to bed. But then I started thinking, what if this was it? Suddenly I didn't like the coming home outfit for you that was already packed, so I got up and started going through all your little clothes, ripping off tags and putting in a whole load of laundry so everything would be clean for you. At some point, as I was sitting on the floor of your room sorting and feeling a trickle, it really sank in that this was the day. I would be a mom so soon... This time I went back to bed and just let that realization sink in, flowing through me and filling me with warmth and even more love. I waited a little while longer, treasuring that feeling and hugging you close in my belly. I started to feel the contractions, tightenings of my belly that didn't really hurt at first (though soon enough they would). Then, around 4 am I woke up your dad to tell him. We stayed there in bed in the warm dark, holding each other and trying to imagine how much our lives would be different by the end of the day.

There are so many things I want you to know here at the beginning of your life. Most importantly, you are loved. You were loved, even before you were born. You father and I hoped for you, prayed for you, and shared all the joys and fears throughout my pregnancy. Your grandparents loved you too - you Pop-pop even wrote you letters! We called you "HB" because you were just a heartbeat to us in those first months. I loved being pregnant, too. Even though I was sick for the first months, I wouldn't change a minute of that time. I would wait impatiently for each time I got to see the OB and hear your heart or see your shape on the ultrasound - I called doctor's appointments "dates" with you! Your dad even got us a doppler for Christmas so we could listen to your heart at home. I would cry just a little from so much joy every time we listened...

On December 22, I felt you move for the first time. Of course, you were probably moving long before that,but I remember that moment I felt you so clearly. I was sitting in your dad's office on the couch, and it was just a touch, just for a moment. I wasn't sure, and I didn't say anything, hugging that hope close. It took a few days to feel you again, and so long between times... Later, thinking back on it would remind me of the poem "The Raven" - "suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door". I don't know why I thought of Poe, but it just fit. God, I loved you even more then! I suppose the rest is here from that point, recorded in this blog for you as time went on.

Now, having you with us, you are our daily joy. The moment they placed you in my arms at the hospital I realized I hadn't even begun to know how much I could love. You were so tiny, so perfect. Our baby. Our miracle. Watching your father hold you tight, I knew how very blessed we are. Now, sleeping in my arms, nursing, smiling up at me as we dance - there isn't any moment I would miss for the world. I don't have all the words yet to describe your life yet and the way you make us feel. That just might take a lifetime! I'll just say that nothing in my life has ever been so amazing. I love you, Emma.

"She's constantly amazed by the blades of the fan in the ceiling.
Those clever little looks she gives just can't help but be appealing.
She loves to ride into town with the top down,
feel that warm breeze on her gentle skin.
She is my next of kin.

I see of a little more of me every day.
I catch a little more mustache turning grey.
Your mother is the only other woman for me.
Little miss magic, whatcha gonna be?
Little miss magic, just can't wait to see..."
Jimmy Buffett
"Little Miss Magic"

good check, but unfair!

2006-05-02T05:52:00.003-07:00

Just wanted to report another good check-up. All seems well, doc says she probably will not decide to arrive just yet... Technically, at 35 weeks now we are full term and she probably would be completely fine (just weigh a little less), but no signs that she's anything but content to stay where she is for the moment.

I do have to say, though, that these doctor's visits are beginning to be a bit unfair. The first thing you are asked to do, before you even enter the hallowed exam room, is to "provide a sample" - that's the nice way of saying "Please pee in this cup"! Only how the heck is an 8-month pregnant woman supposed to pee in that tiny cup anymore???!! I haven't been able to see anything down there in weeks! Is this some kind of test? It's just not right!

good check, but unfair!

2006-05-02T05:52:00.002-07:00

good check, but unfair!

2006-05-02T05:52:00.001-07:00

good check, but unfair!

2006-05-02T05:52:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to report another good check-up. All seems well, doc says she probably will not decide to arrive just yet... Technically, at 35 weeks now we are full term and she probably would be completey fine (just weigh a little less), but no signs that she's anything but content to stay where she is for the moment!

I do have to say, though, that these doctor's visits are beginning to be a bit unfair. The first thing you are asked to do, before you even enter the hallowed exam room, is to "provide a sample" - that's the nice way of saying "Please pee in this cup"! Only how the heck is an 8-month pregnant woman supposed to pee in that tiny cup anymore???!! I haven't been able to see anything down there in weeks! Is this some kind of test? Totally unfair!

Flowers and fears...

2006-04-28T09:13:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. Saturday, and we got lots of things done. I've been slowly getting our gardens planted for the year - more perennials this time, so I don't have quite so much work every year! Glen says he really likes what I've been doing so far, much better than last year, and so we are enjoying together watching the flowers go in and come to life. Lots of pinks and purples waving in the sun around our home. I planted a white Japanese Snowball and some azaleas, and maybe it's just a tiny bit like I remember Japan. I hope it will be. Looking aorund at our land these days, we love it. Spring is beautiful here, and now more than ever since we've added our own touches.

Today, too, finally we've gotten some of the things done that we've been waiting for. Movers went up to the Lake and brought back the things we're keeping from Glen's parents' home. We got the giant dining room table that has been a fixture in their home, and of course the Bear. (For those of you who have not met the Bear, he is a giant 7-8 foot carved wood bear that has been on the Lake house porch since Glen was little. Every family occasion or holiday has been honored by having the Bear dressed up and/or having family photos with it, including Christmases, graduations - even our wedding.) We love that Bear, and it now stands proudly outside our house.The first thing we did was take pictures of each other with it, and got a little misty-eyed over the fact that our first pictures of our baby when she comes home will be with the Bear. A new generation... Our new generation. We also got the rest of the furniture for the baby's room. Now we can finally put things in their places, get everything set for her. We'll put books on her bookshelves, CD player and night lights and the weebles tree I've saved for her. I started washing her tiny clothes, and the hospital bag is packed. It's all coming together - or just plain coming! Was thinking this morning as we lazed in bed, there may not be many mornings like that anymore, where I just get to watch Glen sleep and feel that overwhelming love as he opens his eyes. There will be other loves, other moments, but different. I hope I can appreciate them as much.

I've noticed lately that my biggest fear, oddly, is not about her anymore. It's about Glen. Leaving him in the mornings or watching him drive off somewhere, I find myself afraid and offering up prayers for his safety. I see horrible things like him getting hit by a car or getting into an accident. Something terrible that will keep him from being here with me. Something that will keep me from meeting her. The other night he played a game with her where he would rub my belly or poke, and she kicked back. She was completly responsive to his touch, and it was another of those amazing things for me to feel. God, let us stay this way. Let us stay a family, loving and touching and amazing each other. As I type this I look over, and there is Glen falling asleep in his recliner, the end of another day. And there is nothing in the world better still than this.

what each morning brings...

2006-04-21T05:08:00.000-07:00

Seems like each day is new and I never know what to expect. Yesterday it was beautiful out, and I got to have lunch with Glen, which is always nice. Happens just enough to appreciate, not enough to be old routine... So yesterday walking to meet him I passed a Greek church. There were two older people, a man and a woman, outside cleaning it. They were scrubbing the columns, scrubbing the steps, and there was water pouring down the steps across the sidewalk. Somehow that just seemed refreshing to me. Maybe because of the symbolism of spring cleaning and freshening, maybe the idea of making the church look shiny and clean. I love that smell of wet sidewalks too. Makes me think of rain, or of the morning walks I've taken in cities I've visitied. Morning walks in a new city are always the best (New Orleans and Paris come to mind as the two I love most). Things are usually still quiet, sleepy, just waking up, except for the shopowners, so you see them out washing their store windows or the sidewalks. Often they are talking to each other - at a friendly yell level across streets and the rumble of delivery trucks. Somehow I always feel like I can get to know a city best on those morning walks, much better than later when the tourists are out and the crowds. People smile, everything smells fresh. I don't know, guess it's just my thing, and for some reason those two people cleaning the church made me feel that way too.

Today, on the other hand, I feel like an old old woman. Everything is creaking, everything aches. Pretty much every symptom the doctor has mentioned seems to be present and accounted for! Kept waking myself (and Glen) up all night trying to roll over (for which he was not truly grateful this morning)... Seems like lately that rolling thing is getting harder and harder, and I have to use my feet and legs to push off (which tends to bounce the bed, hence waking Glen). Just trying to roll without leverage results in a litany of screams from various body parts, mostly muscles around the belly that cramp and pull. This morning was convinced I really ripped something good, but after a few minutes that too passed (thankfully). On the other hand, lying in one position too long means limbs falling asleep, sore hips, stretchy cramps. Getting up is slow too - sortof have to roll to the edge of the bed and slide the feet over, stand up very slowly to make sure nothing pulls too quickly and the swollen feet are ready for walkin', do some very slow stretches. I can feel her moving around this morning - which despite every creak and groan is ALWAYS welcome - hi baby! It's funny though - sometimes when she moves it makes something else sore or pinched. But other times she actually helps, almost like getting a massage from the inside out. Very, very bizarre, but pleasant too. Wouldn't trade this feeling still for anything in the world, but will admit that hot chocolate and extra strength tylenol are appreciated more on certain days than on others...

good check

2006-04-20T06:53:00.000-07:00

Just a quick report... Had a good checkup with the doc yesterday, complete with what should be the final ultrasound. Amazing to think of the original "picture" we had where she was like an inch long, and now you can't possibly see all of her at once on the ultrasound. Doc says everything looks good - she's in the right position (head down), has plenty of fluid to swim in still, and clearly is a very beautiful and intelligent baby. It wasn't a very long peek and not on a real high-definition machine, but we did get to see her yawn and stick her tongue out. So cute! Glen was there too, which I love, so he got to witness himself why she gets the hiccups all the time... We also finally got confirmation that the hard lump we feel all the time up above my belly button is in fact her bony rump. She'll spend the next few weeks gaining about half a pound a week - does that mean the lump won't be so hard anymore? We'll see! Doc also said she's actually on the large side (although completely within average), so I say fooey to all those worriers who frowned on my measly one caffeine drink a day! Clearly it did NOT result in low birthweight as predicted! In fact, he says if I give birth at 38 weeks, she'd probably be about 8 pounds. Maybe I should consider more than one caffeine drink a day?... :) Yikes!

Song to remember for today...

2006-04-19T09:48:00.000-07:00

Yolanda Adams
“Already Allright”

I want to start things out by giving testimony
Cause one of my friends got ill seriously
Now the doctor told him ain't no way you gone' live
But he prayed his prayer in faith
And a miracle appeared
Chorus: Its already alright,
Its already alright
And all you got to do is
Just bow your head down
Just bow and pray
And then give it all up
And know everything's gonna be okay
Just throw your hands up
And then wave them left to right
And now do your dance child
Cause its alright already

Always surrounded by negativity
This might be where I live
But it ain't gonna change me
Gotta work on my mind
And keep my actions pure
And when I stumble,
I know who has the cure
So any time your feeling down
Just lift your voice in praise
It'll pick you right up
And you can come to Him don't be afraid
Anytime , day or night
He can give you what you need
And if you pray your prayer in faith
And in your heart believe that

Chorus

When life's problems get you down
Can't find no peace nowhere around
Trust in the spirit you can't see
It's 'bout to bring you your relief
Go ahead and cry now, It's alright
Cause now you're cryin tears of joy
This life ain't hurting you no more
Cause you know its already alright

stress, stress, stress

2006-04-19T09:23:00.000-07:00

So, this week so far has been very stressful at work. Crazy issues popping up, staff absent, other managers absent and trying to pick up their duties too... We have a high-visibility project we're running, and there are all kinds of problems with that. All in all, probably more stressed this week than I have been in awhile. At home, too, there's alot going on. We have multiple contractors this week doing work on the house, trying to coordinate au pair interviews and baby classes and doctor's appointments... Seems like so long ago that this would barely have been a nlip on the radar of daily life, but I definitely notice I am more tired and not as equippped to handle these things as usual. Sleep has also been more difficult, probably because all my muscles are responding to the stress! (Well, that, and up to two trips to the bathroom at night now... The good news there being I can practically do it in my sleep by now!)

Anyway, the interesting thing is listening to how my body and the baby respond to all this. I've noticed pretty clearly that she's much quieter when I'm at my most stressed, almost like she knows and is, well, not hiding, but keeping safe in there? She still responds to food and my touch, but not so much movement by herself. But when I realize how knotted up I'm getting and make an effort to relax, it's like she wakes up with me! Especially if I play some music and start singing - she's right there dancing with me. It's really kindof amazing, even moment to moment how that happens. Talk about a serious feedback loop! A very clear reminder that stress does have big effects on the body, which means both me and her now, and a huge reason to let it all go. I've also noticed that every bit of stress in my body now goes straight to my belly - not my shoulders, not my eck - right under the belly where it gets tight and sore and makes walking hurt. I've even gotten some rougher braxton-hicks contractions that way. Again, though, as soon as I start getting myself to relax, those muscles unwind too. Not pleasant at all! Hence, here I am, thinking of her and this instead of running around through my lunch hour as I've done for the past two days. And, completely looking forward to our doc appt this afternoon, where we get to see her on ultrasound again. Instead of worrying about what I have to do up till that time, like I was, now happily anticipating - and rewarded by her happy thumps! Really, in the end, what could be more important than that?

Bumps in the road

2006-04-13T17:15:00.000-07:00

Reading back over the last few entries, I don't want to give the impression that nothing is ever wrong or difficult in our world. Hopefully some day when our daughter reads this, it will help her too, so she can enjoy this experience as much as I have and not let the bumps and scary spots affect her too much.

At 32 weeks now, things are definitely getting a bit less comfortable. I've grown again, noticed my balance is really starting to change, and for the first time really feel like I'm starting to gain weight in other places - particularly in my face and hands. Could be that I'm retaining water, but I feel like I'm drinking gallons of everything a day, so who knows. What I do know is my engagement ring no longer fits, which makes me very sad and I hate the idea of being parted from it, so I've started wearing it on a chain around my neck. Next to go seems likely to be the wedding ring. That idea makes me just want to cry too, so if it does have to go, I'll probably ask Glen to find me a simple band a few sizes bigger. Just seems like at this moment in our lives, the last thing I want to give up is a symbol of our love and family!

My feet have started swelling a bit too, so some of my shoes are less comfortable now. People keep telling me I should give up my high heeled black boots, but they are my favorite thing to wear and still make me feel sexy, so we'll hold onto those until my feet are the ones telling me to stop! Admittedly, I do have to sit down these days to get them on and off, but once on they're still OK... Heck, I have to sit down to put on socks these days of any kind, and even have to prop my legs up to dry them off after the shower! Bending at the middle is a long-lost idea, just wondering if I'll have to ask Glen for help by the end or if we'll make it through the home stretch with a shred of independence left. Smiling either way... :)

The last few weeks I've also noticed I get alot more tired and forgetful. I've definitely slowed down, and I'm not quite up to my fast, swinging stride anymore. A nice even stroll does just fine! That's OK, though, because there are so many things to see these days - spring is here, everything is peeking up or budding or outright blooming - seems like the perfect time of year to have a baby! Makes me want to go back and read The Secret Garden too. I actually can't wait to be at home, watching the summer from my own yard. This time last year I had my surgery, and while recovering wasn't all that fun, I discovered it was the best time of the year to be at home. We get lots of birds and small wild critters around, and I'll get to see all the new things we've planted come up... Not a bad way to spend a day! Anyway, tired and new aches and pains seem to be rule for this last trimester. The other day I was having so much pain in my lower belly when I walked - I slowed down to like 90-yr-old woman pace, but nothing seemed to help. Didn't even have the energy to stop for hot chocolate! Now THAT"S a bad sign! I actually called the doc, which is rare for me, but he was reassuring that nothing was wrong, she just probably had some body part pressed against a nerve or a tendon. He was sympathetic, but the bottom line is basically rest, take some tylenol, and welcome to third trimester! But through it all I could still feel her moving and rambling around inside, so even with the pain I never really lost that feeling of everything being well. Just have to keep on trusting - my own body and God - and we'll get there! For once I'm being patient, just letting her grow in there. I don't feel like she's ready yet (and of course by medical science standards she's got several weeks), so content to wait and let things go as they will. Thankfully I haven't reached a point of just wanting this to be done yet, though everyone tells me that will come. I'm still enjoying this too much to want to stop! Just this morning we sang and "danced" our way to work (hence the Sinatra song in the entry below). Honestly, I think it will be strange and maybe a bit lonely to not feel her inside me, but hopefully that will be totally countered by having her in my arms!

"Almost Like Being in Love"

2006-04-13T04:49:00.000-07:00

What a day this has been
What a rare mood I'm in
Why it's almost like being in love
There's a smile on my face
For the whole human race
Why it's almost like being in love
All the music of life seems to be
(Just) Like a bell that is ringing for me
And from the way that I feel
When the bell starts to peel
I would swear I was falling,
I could swear I was falling-
It's almost like being in love

Frank Sinatra
"Almost Like Bieng in Love"

comfort and joy

2006-04-06T12:42:00.000-07:00

More and more often these days, I find myself sitting quietly and just rubbing my belly, over and over and around. She moves alot, and it feels so wonderful, so alive. Some days she's already moving - even squirming to the point that I feel this need to comfort her and tell her somehow that everything is alright, to soothe her and calm (like when she has the hiccups). If I run my fingertips or nails lightly over, she even jumps a bit, like it tickles. Other times she's quiet, and I just want her to know I'm watching over her while she sleeps. She responds to that touch, rising under my hands, some days almost dancing with me. I sing too, when I can, and I can't even begin to describe the joy that comes over everything. It's like those first days of falling in love, everything looks nicer, I hear birds singing and smell the flowers we planted and it's hard to imagine anything being better than this. Looking at our wedding pictures, I realize that day is the only other time I've felt so very much, but now it's everyday. It's still me and Glen, more than ever, and now this third part of us. Some mornings I wake up and just look at him, watching him sleep, and I am amazed and blessed to be here with him and with her. Amazing too, to watch his face when he gets to feel her too or sees her thumping around so my belly jumps. Sometimes I'll point out a lump or a hard spot on my belly, and he'll feel her, wondering like I do - is it a foot? a knee? her head? Sometimes he probes with his strong doctor's hands and he can figure out what it is, other days she eludes his trained touch too and we just have to keep guessing. Either way, she must know by now that both our hands mean love. I hope she does.

our wonderful belly

2006-04-06T11:41:00.000-07:00

31 weeks, and all is still well...

2006-04-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

So, over the past few weeks we've started taking classes at the hospital where we'll deliver. One was a baby care basics class where they teach you things like how to wash and dress and feed the baby, how to swaddle her, how to burp her... Then over the weekend we took the childbirth prep class, where they give you all the details of the medical and logistical things you might encounter when you actually come to the hospital, you get a tour of the hospital, and then some relaxation and breathing techniques. It's all been useful. (More so to me than to Glen, of course, but even he's been getting some good tidbits out of it. Or at least he humors me and tells me his is...) But what I've realized after taking those classes is: I'm really not worried at all. Maybe it's because Glen feels very confident that we'll be able to handle this, and he thinks I'll be a great mom, experienced or not. (And for the record, I think he's going to be an amazing dad! I can't wait to see our baby in his arms!) But somehow, despite all the other worries over what to buy and how to get organized, I'm not really scared of what it will be like after she's born. So many of my fears so far have been about artificial things - clothes, cribs, bassinets, car seats - they're all the commercial stuff you have to figure out. But for her alone, I agree with Glen - I think that once she's here and in our arms, all those instincts will kick in and we'll know what to do. I don't mean we'll suddenly be perfect or know everything, or that there won't be some serious learning curves involved and probably more than a few scary moments and moments we might only be able to laugh at in hindsight... But I'm not scared of those things. I'm taking the classes to make myself a bit more prepared and maybe to ease some of those moments if we can, but it's nice to know that inside I trust myself and Glen. I hope we'll be good parents, and I know we love this baby so hugely that even if we make mistakes, they'll be made with love and the best intentions.

Oddly, I find I'm not particularly scared of the birth itself either. I know it will probably be the worst and best experience I've ever had, and I have been made completely aware that there will probably be more pain than I've ever experienced. I know at first Glen really thought I should ask for the epidural the moment we hit the doors of the hospital. Over the past few years, for various reasons his impression of my ability to deal with pain has not been great. (I've disagreed - I think he underestimates me alot here.) But we've been talking and more and more I feel like I'm not sure I want an epidural. There seem to be varying opinions about how much you can feel with an epidural, but basically it sounds like you really can't feel much and you're stuck in the bed and on a monitor once they put it in. And that's not the experience I think I want to have. I haven't suddenly become a fanatic for natural birth, but I definitely know I want to be present for my daughter's birth. I don't want to be stuck on a bed for the entire labor, and I want to be able to experience my body and hers. I absolutely do not want to be a spectator, waiting pain-free while my body and the doctors do their thing around me. So I guess we'll have to come up with a plan somewhere in the middle, where hopefully we can stay away from the drugs until I reach a point where I can't manage it. I expect and I'm hoping I'll suprise Glen, and that point will be very late... Of course, at the end of the day, it will all depend on her anyway and every plan may fly out the window, but just thoughts on the subject...

All is well...

2006-03-20T11:14:00.000-08:00

So, I am supposed to be working, but find myself instead just sitting here marveling over the feelings inside my belly. Today is quiet, and after lunch I've had the chance to sit at my desk peacefully, and so I notice all the little movements and stirrings. It seems like she's almost always moving somehow now, and I love when I have time to pay attention, rather than getting caught up in the stress and business of daily life. Even better times at home, when I can rub my belly and feel her respond to the touch too. Having seen the shows on Discovery and such, I can picture her too, though I'm never sure what exactly she's doing. But I see her all snuggled up, sometimes arms moving, sometimes legs stretching, maybe even "walking". Maybe she's yawning, or smiling, or playing with all the new features on her face. So many things she can be doing in her tiny world. Funny, some of the web sites and books try to describe the feeling as being like popcorn or butterflies - I really never felt like it was anything but her in me, a precious litle girl with a real body. Even at the beginning when the movements were harder to feel, I always thought of it as her reaching out to touch or curling up or stretching. Just she was so small and so many layers between her skin and mine...

I haven't written in awhile - real life has been busy - but I think the last few weeks can be summed up in this feeling of pure well-being. There have been ups and downs and craziness of course (last week was particularly stressful for both Glen and I at work), but still over everything is this peaceful warmth and happiness. Every time she moves, I know she's healthy, and except for the odd moment or two the burden of fear has been lifted. She responds too, so when I touch or lay my hand on my belly, usually she moves against me. Singing (or even just my voice speaking) seems to bring little thumps too. And lately her father has started rubbing her and talking to her too, and she's starting I think to recognize him. Everything is coming together so that finally I feel like we are starting a family. Not just having a baby, but we're all connected, all part of the same bond and love. Lately Glen has been getting excited about her room and all the things we need for her too, and I've started to get these glimpses of him as a Dad. I didn't expect somehow to be so overwhelmed with new love for him, watching him become a father, but I am. As he picks out stuffed animals and paints fish on her walls, I can hardly keep from bursting with all this pride and love and joy. Even physically, suddenly I can picture him holding her in his arms, her tiny fingers reaching for him or grabbing his finger. And I can imagine the look on his face when he sees her too - I can't wait! And I can't imagine anything more perfect than this man and this baby and this family.

words of thanks

2006-02-27T07:29:00.000-08:00

Reading back on some of the blogs this month, I realize I owe some big (large, HUGE) thanks to two people. First, to Bethany, who first supports me through my loooooooong emails about all these new things, and laughs with me, and cheers for me, and shares her own smiling stories with me (including the ever-present food stories, since she's expecting too) so I know I'm not alone or completely loony.

Also, as I read back on the "stuff" email, I realize that having my sister Kelly come with me to create the baby registry was such an enourmous help. I thought it would be fun, but turns out it she was more like my mentor. Even though they give you lists, and even though I had carefully written my own list, just walking in the door of the Babies-R-Us can be overwhelming, and then having to walk the aisles and figure out how your lists match all the stuff might very well have sent me running again. I like to think that common sense and my normally healthy courage would have prevailed eventually, but having her there to help me and suggest things (or explain why she liked certain things) made it more real again and manageable. The biggest example that comes to mind is with the car seat/travel systems. I had done a bunch of research and knew what type of thing I wanted, but actually being there with rows of car seats and strollers and systems and buggies and every variation - I literally couldn't immediately connect all I'd read with what I was seeing. But she helped guide me, and pretty soon we were happily bashing the sheep-covered laura ashley's and folding and unfolding the more practical ones. It turned out, when I went back to the store this weekend with Glen to show him what we'd registered for, I was able to show him a thing or two! I'm sure eventually I would have gotten there, but I really owe her for making it a much more fun experience, including occasional moments of misty eyes and all, just like it should be.

So thanks.

a good song to remember

2006-02-27T07:15:00.000-08:00

Just a song that tends to calm me whenever I get that scared feeling, for whatever the fear of the moment is!

"Believe Me Now"
by Steven Curtis Chapman

I watch you looking out across the raging water
So sure your only hope lies on the other side
You hear the enemy that's closing in around you
And I know that you don't have the strength to fight
But do you have the faith to stand and...

Believe Me now
Believe Me here
Remember all the times I've told you loud and clear
I am with you and I am for you
So believe Me now
Believe Me now

I am the One who waved my hand and split the ocean
I am the One who spoke the words and raised the dead
And I've loved you long before I set the world in motion
I know all the fears you're feeling now
But do you remember who I am?
Do you..

Believe Me now
Believe Me here
Remember all the times I've told you loud and clear
I am with you and I am for you
So Believe Me now
Believe it's true
I never have, I never will abandon you
And the God that I have always been
I will forever be
So believe Me now

I am the God who never wastes a single hurt that you endure
My words are true, and all My promises are sure
So believe Me now
Oh, believe Me now

confessions

2006-02-22T14:00:00.000-08:00

OK, since this is for the record, and hopefully some day I will be passing this on to you, my baby, I feel compelled to put something in here about breaking the "rules". So here it is, the list of bad mommy rules I've broken. (That you seem to be surviving just fine with, I might add.)

Drank an occasional glass of wine.
Had a glass of coke (just one) each day.
Ate sushi (although just the cooked kind).
Highlighted my hair.
Slept on my back once in awhile.
Reached lots of stuff on high shelves. (That's for the wives tale that says reaching for things on high shelves will cause the umbilical cord to strangle the baby!)
Worked hard, got stressed.
Took steaming hot showers.
Wore high heels.
Wished I could still wear my old clothes.
Played loud music and sang at the top of my lungs. (Guess we know who to blame when you comes out tone-deaf and liking country music.)
Swore.
Poked you back.
Drank lots of hot chocolate.
Ate cookies in the morning.
Ate deli meat.
Ate peanut butter.
Ate french fries and pizza, often.
Did not eat my broccoli.
And bought lots of stuff for you!

Love, mom

looks like we're growing again!

2006-02-22T13:26:00.000-08:00

After a few weeks of "lull", it seems like the last week has been bringing changes again. Started with my noticing a few more articles of clothing didn't fit anymore (or maybe they just shrank??? yeah right). Then one morning Glen woke up, put in his contacts, and said "Wow, you've grown!" I'm sure he meant that in the nicest possible way... That meant another trip to Old Navy for new sweats, a new belt. And officially, this weekend, an admission that my good professional coat no longers quite buttons across the front. Also noticing I'm a little less graceful (ha), a little more prone to tip over or run into stationery objects, and I also can't quite see my toes unless I bend (but only slightly). Mostly meeting all these things with a grin, and hanging on to the fact that everything but my belly is still a size 6 and I can still fit into all my rings and shoes! Hoping very much that I manage to stay that way, even if Glen doesn't believe I can eat the way I am and still stay less than giant sized...

This last weekend also brought some different thoughts. Sunday morning I woke up, and for the first time in many days, didn't feel anything. No kicks, no pokes, no nothing, even when I poked myself and tried different postures that usually get her riled up. With Glen away, it didn't take long for me to move from concerned to half-panicked. (Of course, that was also the morning the dogs picked to fight and one of them fell halfway down the stairs...) So I broke our rule, and used the heart monitor he gave me. Usually we have agreed that I won't use it alone (in case for some reason I can't find a heartbeat, so I don't panic), but I reasoned since I was already in that state, it could only help... Anyway, I found her heartbeat immediately, nice and strong. And, oddly enough, as soon as I started using it, she started kicking, exactly in the spot where the montior wand was. I wonder if somehow she can hear it? Or feel it? Seemed too weird that she picked the moment and spot by coincidence. Or maybe it was simply my complete happiness in hearing that wonderful sound. That got me to thinking about what does make her kick. There are some pretty distinct differences in her kicks - sometimes she feels squirmy and happy, and other times it's like she's just pushing at the position I'm in (like the lunchtime discussion today...). The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the times when she feels happy and squirmy are when I'm happy. Like when I'm singing or when there's some burst of joy, coming over a hill to find a beautiful sunset or sitting contentedly next to Glen in the evenings... I don't know that she can feel what I feel, but it seems likely that she does get the same chemicals that go through my body, so if there's a burst of endorphins or whatever, why wouldn't she feel them? And when I'm tense or scared, she definitely gets more quiet. So there's a challenge for me, right? Whenever I'm worried because she's not moving enough, worry only makes her get quieter. The trick is to be able to find peace and even joy despite the fear. Another test of faith? Yes! Definitely not an easy one, but a good lesson to learn.

I also remembered that joy is almost always balanced by a bit of sadness. Sunday I had a great day with my sister-in-law and niece registering at Babies-R-Us. I could not have been happier, wandering the store with her and scanning all the things that our little girl will hopefully someday sleep or move or play in. We spent hours picking thermometers and bumpers and tiny clothes. Full of plans and dreams, the drive home was unexpectedly tinted with worry again. What if all those plans and dreams somehow don't work out? What if she's early, what if she's sick? Not really scared so much as just tired and overfull of emotion. Sometimes I think that's just how it works, you can't quite live on joy alone... Even when the joy is so huge...

lunchtime discussion

2006-02-22T10:19:00.000-08:00

Very behind in my writing this week, but I thought I'd just throw this one out there because it's funny and sweet...

I'm sitting at my desk, having just had an interesting "discussion" with my daughter! I was eating lunch, and I noticed that every time I leaned forward to take a bite, she started squirming alot. Then when I straightened or leaned back, she'd quiet down again. I tried it a couple more times, just to see if there really was a pattern, and there definitely was! Just like she was telling me to straighten up mommy! Finally finished, after one last long time forward, and afterwards she squirmed for awhile and now is slowly settling down again, with various assorted thumps and pokes, like she's reminding me not to do that anymore. I'm sure I'm attributing all sorts of characteristics to her that aren't really true, but she sure seems to have a personality already. And some spunk!

Marrying a Vision

2006-02-07T10:50:00.000-08:00

Today at lunch I caught a bit of the Corretta Scott King funeral. One of the speakers was relaying some of the things she said over the years, and a comment particularly caught my attention. When asked how she dealt with all the pressures of her own life - her family, her husband and his travels - part of her response was that she knew when she married him that she was marrying not just a man, but a vision. Even though we obviously aren't all married to Martin Luther King type heroes, I think there's some wisdom that all of us should remember there. To some degree, we have all married a vision. It may be that our spouses are artists, or writers, or doctors, or just called to career or hobby in a way that is more than just work to them. There is something that inspires them and makes them want to be better or do more - their own vision. It's not just about what they want, but about what drives them, makes them feel alive. We married that feeling too, and it would be a real loss to miss out on that or see it just as an imposition on our own lives. Lord knows it isn't always easy to live with vision, but that doesn't mean we can ignore it or try to change it. I know I have married a man with a vision for his future in medicine. I don't always understand it or see where it's going quite (and maybe neither does he, but that's OK too), but if I love him I have to live with that vision too. And I know he sees that my work too is not just a job, but that there's something else it gives me. We don't always like being apart, but he supports that I have to be away at times, because it's what I do, part of my vision. Now, as that changes for me and I try to figure out how to fit my old vision with the new motherhood vision, I know he'll support me. Because he married my vision too. What an amazing thing that is.

Stuff (as in, what to buy...)

2006-02-03T13:12:00.000-08:00

Has anyone else noticed how overwhelming it can be to buy all the stuff you have to buy during pregnancy?

I think for me it started with the food. During the first pregnancy (short as it was), I remember going through a whole phase of being completely panicked by food. What am I allowed to eat, what am I not allowed to eat, how much caffeine is OK, how much fish is OK, etc etc etc. I would spend long hours searching the web, trying to figure out how to keep the baby safe from preservatives and evil sugar substitutes. I literally remember having a panic attack in the grocery store one day because even plain old flour tortillas were impossible to find without a whole list of unpronounceable preservatives. Of course, this pregnancy changed all that. Fruit is pretty safe, and even careful washing went out the window when it was all I could eat and wanted it NOW! Everything else was a matter of what could I hold down??? If that meant ramen noodles (gasp - horrible processed food completely lacking in any nutritional value, according to the web sites), then ramen noodles it was! So far, she doesn't seem to be having any trouble with this philosophy!

Then there was the whole clothing issue. (Well, really the continuing saga of clothing, but at least now I'm a little more educated and have more than 2 pairs of pants to wear.) Junk, junk, junk! And where to buy anything that anyone with a shred of taste would wear? And once there, what to buy that anyone with an ounce of practicality would pay for? Glen can vouch for my return from the Mall on what I thought would be my first glorious day of shopping as a PREGNANT WOMAN, when I showed up at the house sobbing with only a scarf to show. It turns out you actually have to understand maternity clothing. You can't just sweep in and grab whatever looks good off the rack. There are different styles for your size and and your belly's size (two very different things for me). On bottoms especially - underbelly, over the belly, mid belly, demi-panel, full panel, "hug" styles, "OK" styles... All designed to sit somewhere different on your hips, and in the stores often not labeled or explained for first-time mommies. Of course, they say that you can just casually get the same maternity size as you used to wear. Ha! I think I tried on literally like a hundred tops and bottoms shopping with Mom, and came home with 12 things. Actually, shopping on the internet is easier, even though you end up having to return more stuff. That's because it explains what you're getting. What the style is, how it's supposed to fit, in some cases what trimester it's recommended for. And you can return things, which is not the case in most maternity stores. I suppose that's to keep you from returning something that you've outgrown before you even wear it, but none the less frustrating when they make you sign a special receipt swearing you will not try to return it!

Having survived the break-in period for that phase, I am now entering what I'm realizing will be the biggest, most challenging buying phase: baby stuff. Thankfully my sister-in-law saved some of her furniture for us, because at least we don't have to figure out the whole changing table thing. But still... Bassinett, cradle, crib, pak-n-play... Does anyone need all these things? At once? Car seat, convertibles car seat, car system, stroller, carriage... And how many types of bottles are there??? Not to mention choosing between the 30 varieties of breast pumps. Then there are the clothes. Just a quick search of the internet will produce about a million web sites selling tiny little beribboned, laced, frocked, and frilly infant outfits. Leather shoes, caps with ears, blankets with matching stuffed animals in pockets, mini-vests and sweater sets, designer boots for goodness sake! Again, does anyone really need these things? Our baby will be born late May/early June - doesn't that mean she'll be wearing t-shirts, diapers, and onesies for the first six months? I have to admit, born shopper that I am, I have walked into and out of more baby stores in the last few weeks, overwhelmed and intimidated by the sheer magnitude of the selection out there. Even the book store has become a source of wonder. WHen I was young, I remember there being one staple: The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Now the caterpillar has been joined by like six friends such as the tired spider and the happy bunny and whatever else. Where do these things come from? And do we really need any of it? Aaaaargh!

Nice day

2006-02-02T09:58:00.000-08:00

Having a nice day so far today. Started with a good laugh with my husband over the fact that I now have to sit down to get on my nylons and boots in the mornings. Can't quite seem to bend at the waist around the little one-pounder, and maybe not quite as coordinated as I used to be... I suppose that means the day is coming when I'll also have to ask him to help me with those boots. That's a scary thought! Truth be told, she feels like a lead brick sitting at the bottom of my belly today, but I mean that in the most affectionate way possible! Then again, I never knew a lead brick to kick this way... Also had lots of people today commenting (sweetly) that I definitely look pregnant now. I think it's mostly the dress I'm wearing, which is a lighter material in honor of the 50-degree weather we're enjoying, and also has an empire waist with a sortof of obvious line of demarcation at the top of the belly. Still, makes me feel all rosy to hear people say I really look it now, without that polite (unspoken) question of am I really pregnant, or have I just (heavens) let myself go... Guess the idea is to enjoy this now, because I can't imaine how big I'll be in 4 months! I keep reading people describe late pregnancy as being like a "ship in full sail". Not entirely sure what that means, but sounds vaguely ominous, no?!

T.E. Brown poem

2006-02-01T13:24:00.000-08:00

Just an old favorite that still rings true for me...

If thou couldst empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf,
And say — "This is not dead,"
—And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou,
And hast such shrewd activity,
That, when He comes, He says — "This is enow
Unto itself — 'Twere better let it be:
It is so small and full, there is no room for Me."

Thomas Edward Brown

a brief thanks

2006-01-31T15:40:00.000-08:00

I just want to say thank God for the man, woman, or team who invented Colace. And if you don't know what that means or never needed it, then you should offer your own thanks!!!

tip/reminder for the day

2006-01-31T09:41:00.000-08:00

Never set off for an exercise walk at lunch without peeing first! Ugh!

faith

2006-01-31T07:42:00.000-08:00

I have to say that, physical effects aside of course, the biggest thing this pregnancy has affected in me is my faith. I would consider myself a strong Christian, and I've been lucky enough to have some very good supporters in my life to help bring me to a good relationship with Christ. But even the best of Christians can use a little more help sometimes, right?

Granted, the last many months were a big test of faith with all the problems we had, but pregnancy brings a different and more rewarding sort of awareness. Mainly, it's this sense - in a good way - of finally not being in control. For many years, one of my sources of strength has been an awareness that God does have a plan, and I've relied on the faith that even if I don't know the plan (how could I possibly? He's so big, I'm so small...) there is one. This has always helped me through the dark times, and never as much as the last year. No matter what has happened, I believe totally that some good came of it somewhere, even if I never get to see it. Maybe it was a smile that someone else needed, maybe by my strength I showed someone else that they could get through their troubles too. Whatever the outcome, I know that my suffering and my joys were not wasted. But what I realized was even with that faith, I was still thinking I had to be the strong one. My prayers were always to God to make me stronger or to give me the strength to bear whatever He sent. Good prayers, and I think not so far off track. I did get the strength (and support) I needed to get through the miscarriage, and Glen's fall, and the surgery and come out whole - or even better - on the other side. I'd like to say I thank God every day for that, but being human, I'll just say I thank God whenever I think of it.

What I found, though, was I still needed a lesson in NOT being strong. Atlanta was that lesson for me, the turning point. Actually, I would admit it was the breaking point. Atlanta was difficult in so many ways. Being away from home and Glen, being pregnant really for the first time and all the changes that happen with that, fear of another miscarriage, the "morning" (ha) sickness, and of course the work. Even now, being out of it and able to look back more objectively, I think that many of the personnel issues I faced there with the work were some of the most challenging I have met in my career. Not perhaps the top, as I felt while I was in it, but definitely up there. With all that, I just kept praying for more strength. God kept answering that prayer, but then it just seemed like more things would come up. My time would be extended again, a new complaint would be filed, I'd get promoted, I'd get dizzy, whatever. However much strength I had, it couldn't keep up. What I discovered about myself is very much what I affectionately refer to now as the superwoman complex. I had to do it all, had to be able to do it all. In truth, there really weren't many people I could ask for help, so it wasn't like I volunteered to go it alone. But in doing it by myself, I couldn't allow for failure, couldn't be less than perfect. If I was going to do it, by God I was going to do it better. Sadly, what I couldn't allow myself was the possibility of not being able to do it. I do think in one way I was at least a little smart, because I did find ways to give my body some of what it needed. I specifically made extra time to rest, I prioritized and allowed non-important things to slip, and I found ways to cut myself a break during the days to get away - but always with the goal of preserving my strength so I had enough to do everything else. It was always about that, always about how to use my strength, how to be the hero. And without realizing it, my friends and family all bought into this complex. Encouragment always centered around "you can do it", "you are strong enough to do it", "I have faith in your abilities", etc - much as you'd expect. All were meant with love, and I took them that way. But somehow they didn't help, and I couldn't even explain to myself why. What I did know was that this time I wasn't strong enough. In my heart, I knew that this time it was too much, and I didn't know what to do with that. I mean, I was doing a good job on the outside, even getting praised from work for everything. But inside I knew I was not making it. Why not? It turns out what I needed was someone to tell me it was OK to NOT be strong enough. Just that allowance that it was OK, that I could not be strong enough this time and the world would not end, no one would die, probably no one would even notice. I admit, I don't remember ever feeling like this, so I hope no one is offended reading this to think they failed me in some way by saying the wrong thing. In probably any other situation, they would have been saying all the exact right things. There was no way anyone could have understood what I most needed to hear this time (and hopefully what I don't get to the point of needing to hear again!)

In the end, though, there was just me and God. Me, the standard-issue, fearless, witty, tough, smart, beautiful, over-achieving Fairbanks WOMAN, found herself literally on my knees, and then curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing, without any idea how to get up this time. Strength was not enough. Even physically, I didn't have the strength to get off the floor. That was the breaking moment, but also maybe a turning point in my life. Because as I was huddled there, so lost that I finally had nothing to say, finally I was able to hear it: that voice, telling me it was OK. There was no one else but God there to tell me it was OK. I didn't have to be strong. He didn't expect me to be strong, I wasn't made to be that strong. I was never made to be a hero. I was only made to be enough, and then given the faith (if I used it) to ask Him to be the rest for me. And I did. For perhaps the first time, really truly, in my life, I asked Him to be my strength for me. I know this probably sounds like a dramatic story, but I need to say this and make this distinction. I asked not to be given anything, but to be only a shell to be filled with Him, and to let Him do everything that needed to be done through me. And it was really incredible, the warm and wonderful feeling this prayer gave me. It's almost physical, like being wrapped in a warm blanket or folded in someone's arms. It didn't exactly let me off the hook to do anything for myself, but I wasn't scared anymore of failing because HE isn't going to fail - whatever He plans to do - as long as I get out of the way and let Him do it. It's such a difference, a complete difference. He picked me up off of that floor, and made me whole again. Amazingly, from that point on everything smoothed out again. Things at work almost magically resolved themselves, personnel issues were sorted out, I felt better (albeit still totally sick), and things worked out so I could go home. I can't help but think now that maybe it was all meant to happen that way for that purpose, to force me into that revelation, that step beyond where my faith was.

These days, I keep that memory and that new prayer in my heart. It doesn't always work, and some days I find myself slipping into the old superwoman ways. I'm human, so I suppose it'll always be that way. But again, with pregnancy, I've had to let go. Pregnancy by itself is not without fear, no matter how normal or healthy. It seems like there's always something - perfectly rational fear of some new pain, or totally irrational fear for no apparent reason. At one point very early I was totally convinced that my baby was dead again, and nothing Glen or anyone else could say could make me feel better until I saw that ultrasound. Except God. Again, I had to step back and let Him do it for me. Slowly, those fears are getting better. I feel her moving now, which helps, but still there are days when I wonder. But when those days happen, I stop and pray and let Him comfort me. He's taking care of her. As the miscarriage proved, there's nothing I can do. I can avoid things that I know for sure would be bad, but there is absolutely nothing I can do to make sure she is healthy and has all her parts and has her Daddy's smile. My strength has nothing to do with this. It's all up to God, and I'm OK with that now. Maybe it took Atlanta to teach me how to be OK with that.

There's a song on the radio now that I heard for the first time probably just a few days before I left Atlanta. It's by Carrie Underwood, and I cried the first time I heard it and still get teared up now. It's about a mother who is driving and her car spins on some black ice, with her baby in the back seat. She takes her hands off the wheel and prays "Jesus take the wheel, take it from my hands, cuz I can't do this on my own... I'm letting go, so give it one more chance, to save me from this road I'm on... Jesus take the wheel." Trying to do that all the time now, and so far (thump thump from inside too) it seems to be working...

The perfect man

2006-01-30T04:57:00.000-08:00

Well, OK, not always *perfect*, but then again neither am I! But I did want to go on the record here saying how very much I appreciate and love my husband, and now more than ever. I'm sure I don't say it enough to him, but these past couple months especially he's been very sweet. I don't think he completely understands everything I'm going through with the hormones and aches and pains and the million emotions I have that change about every two seconds. And I'm sure he wonders what creature has possessed his wife when I start sobbing because I just dumped an entire pot of mac and cheese on the floor, as if it's the end of the world (and I might starve to death waiting for another pot to boil). But still, I notice the little things he's doing for me (or us), like setting up the dog gates so I don't have to step over a gate AND the top step every time, or holding my hand to walk me over icy or rough spots, or working with Hugger to stop her from jumping and to make sure she doesn't mind getting tugged and pulled and poked from every angle. Even as I'm annoyed because he won't let me get my steak half raw like I want it, I feel misty and warm over the fact that he won't let me. I suppose I could spend a long time listing the little things here, many of which probably wouldn't interest anyone but me, but I just wanted to say I know he's doing them for me, and I love him all the more for it. I know he thinks that I am obsessed with all things baby, which is probably true (and who wouldn't be when you are getting poked gently or just plain jabbed several times and hour???), but I am trying to share as much of this experience as I can. And I'm also trying to still just be me, the woman he married and who still loves him with all her heart.

for the record...

2006-01-26T05:26:00.000-08:00

I guess for the record I should put a note in here about when I started this web page. This week is week 21 of our pregnancy. Two weeks ago, we had our second trimester ultrasound, getting to see her pretty clearly for the first time, seeing that she is healthy and apparently has all the right parts :), and that "it" is a "she"...

I might from time to time jump back to things that have happened in the past, because there are alot of things that I want to capture from the past months. When I do that, I'll try and make some sort of note so you know I've ventured back...

true love

2006-01-26T04:40:00.000-08:00

I just want to say how much I love being pregnant! Despite aches, pains, worries, whatever - I have had some of the happiest moments I ever imagined in the last four months. They don't have to be long or even particularly unusual circumstances - they're just moments that stand out that I hope I can remember and pass on.

This morning on the way to work turned out to be one of them. I like to have sing time with her while we drive. Usually it's Jimmy Buffet, who I think is a perfect storyteller, but today I put on a CD we made for our wedding. (I know what some of you are thinking - Jimmy Buffet as a children's storyteller? He's NOT all Margaritaville and drinking songs - in fact, if you really listen to his music, he's mostly not. Try listening to "Jolly Mon" like we do!) Anyway, today it was Faith Hill, James Taylor, Dave Matthews. So far she definitely seems to like Dave Matthews, especially "Crush". Seems like she always gives her little thumps during that song, and today was no exeption. I had it on and was singing along, came around a turn and there was nothing but open road ahead of me, with the sun coming up straight ahead, silhouetted by these two historic towers and beautiful trees. The sun was a stunning orange-gold, bright but not blinding, and I was just filled with this feeling of such perfection, such love - and sure enough, thump, thump. Sing, thump. A duet? I'm sure there are some who would say it's only coincidence because I ate right before getting in the car or something, but there's no doubting the love that went through me. I'm sure she feels that, whether you want to call it chemical or spiritual, and she knows that she's loved. Perfect.

Where to begin...

2006-01-25T12:35:00.000-08:00

So, where to begin this song? Seems like it's been going on in my head for a long time, but I haven't been able to let it out. Often over the past few months, I've found I have things I want to say, need to say, but am afraid to say out loud for fear that they'll come out sounding melodramatic or just plain cheesy. With everything that's happened - the cycts, the surgery, Glen's accident, and now with our little miracle coming - there are days when I want to shout everything from the rooftops, but how? Feelings so strong or strange or small or scared. In particular, my faith has gone through so much and grown so much, but who among my friends can I talk to who understand or are ready to follow that kind of journey with me? I've always been a writer, of course, but daily diaries seem to fail lately and poetry only comes in small moments that are quickly lost. That's where this blog comes in. It's definitely not the way I normally write, but maybe for now this is a good thing, this separation from writer and audience. I can come and go and add tidbits without being afraid of how they'll sound. And if you want to read and share, or comment, you can. Or you can enter quietly and leave even more gently, without disturbing our peace. At least my voice will be out there, and maybe some of it will linger on your hearts. Or better still, it will linger long enough in this place - some place - to be passed to our baby girl. I hope...

A Song of Trust

just saying hello

Some things never change

I have a theory...

Best church sign

Mommyhood

News and prayers

Joyburst

My little light

Life, interspersed with bliss

All that matters

One Heartbeat at a Time

Big girl bed!

To my baby girls

Independence

Future president or social misfit?

Setting aside magic time

A New Song

Endings and beginnings

Living in Joy

first sick

Pink Snowsuit and moonboots

peace

Daycare begins

weaning

Yuck (I mean that in the nicest possible way!)

Emma sleeps

Great book title

Emma stands!

Quick bits - this too shall pass?

Standing up and letting go

Empathy? Telepathy? Imagination?

Back postings...

Catching Up, Falling Behind

More back postings... November 9...

Pumpkinland

Emma kisses

Mmm mmm good?

First day of the season...

up, down, up down

end of week 4...

Week 4 - getting easier

for myself

The Congo - for reading aloud

Ickle Me Pickle Me Tickle Me Too

Rise and Shine (aaaaaaaaargh)

week 2 back to work

Week 1 - continued (also September 1)

Week 1 back at work (written September 1)

digging in

Those perfect moments

The Sound of Joy!

good check, but unfair!

good check, but unfair!

good check, but unfair!

good check, but unfair!

Flowers and fears...

what each morning brings...

good check

Song to remember for today...

stress, stress, stress

Bumps in the road

"Almost Like Being in Love"

comfort and joy

our wonderful belly

31 weeks, and all is still well...

All is well...

words of thanks

a good song to remember

confessions

looks like we're growing again!

lunchtime discussion

Marrying a Vision

Stuff (as in, what to buy...)

Nice day

T.E. Brown poem

a brief thanks

tip/reminder for the day

faith

The perfect man