Who am I?

So, a friend posted this on FB and it's designed to be a photo challenge but I'm a rebel, so I decided to attempt to use this as my Lenten discipline. Writing on each of the prompts--as if I don't have enough writing to do. (HA!) But it's also an attempt to contain my on-line time that disappears into the abyss and turn it into something productive.

So today--who am I?

There could be so many answers--especially on this Ash Wednesday, some of which I mention in my sermon for tonight. But somehow, the only one that bubbles to the surface today is mom or more accurately, mama (specifically in Precious'/Thing 2's voice).

When Baby Girl/Thing 1 was small, the law in our state and the recommendation was rear-facing in the car until age 1 and 22 pounds. About a week after her first birthday, I had to travel a long way (6 hours if I recall correctly) with her by myself. In the van, I had her rear-facing carrier seat and her new front-facing seat. I put her rear-facing when I thought and hoped she'd nap and front-facing for the rest so she could see the DVD player. When we got home after that trip, we took out the rear-facing seat. She's been in the other seat since (now using the regular seat belt, not the five point harness) but still.

Now that Precious/Thing 2 is small, the law in our state is still rear-facing until age 1 and 22 pounds, but the recommendation is rear-facing until 2. She's still rear-facing in my car. But in hubby's, we've turned the seat. It's just too hard for the front seat passengers to fit her seat in rear-facing. And, she rarely rides in his car anyhow.

Just a few days ago, I was buckling her in his car and realized that though I complain about getting her in the rear-facing seat (she's getting tall and scrunched, it's so high in my van, etc.), I'm not ready to turn her around. It feels like it will be the last thing that marks the end of her being my baby. Which isn't true of course...I'm my mom's baby as she tells both my girls. But...my baby is growing up. She's solidly toddler. She's independent, oh so independent. She wants to do so much on her own.

AND, she's my baby. She loves her 'babies' (dolls) and any real-life baby. She gets frustrated when she can't take them out of books or photos. We have a number of picture books with Mary holding baby Jesus. And reading them goes something like this. "Where's the baby?" She points. "Yes, that's baby Jesus. Where's his mama?" She points to Mary. "Where's your mama?" She taps her index finger on my chest. "Where's my baby?" She taps her index finger on her chest. "Are you my baby?" She nods solemnly, slowly, deliberately and snuggles into me with a smile.

Yes, she is my baby and I'm her mama.

Done

Yesterday, at age 16 months (and 1 day), Precious had her very last breastmilk. I stopped pumping at the end of July. My goal was to get her through surgery recovery with mostly fresh breastmilk. After that, we used my frozen stash. I'm happy she got my milk that long and that she seems to like (and tolerate well) cow's milk.

We are done with babies, barring a miracle (aka a failed vasectomy). And that's okay--good even. I held a tiny baby, 5 or 6 weeks old, at a wedding reception recently and I realized that I didn't even feel the slightest twinge of desire to have another baby. I didn't want to be pregnant; I didn't want to give birth; I didn't want to care for another newborn or raise another child.

But...

First, full disclosure, I judge. When I see a baby with a bottle and his/her mother right there, I think, "Oh, it's too bad they aren't breastfeeding. Formula's not the best choice." And then--since Precious--my second thought, "Oh, it could be breastmilk." Ultimately, I know formula's not evil and everyone has to do what is right for them; I don't know the whole story in most cases. I loved, loved, loved breastfeeding and want others to have that same love that I did. And I know not everyone does, so whatever. Do what you need to do.

That said, as I held this baby and fed him his bottle (formula--I watched the parents mix it), he kept turning his little head and nuzzling me, my breast in particular. And I thought, "oh, just to have a baby nurse again...just to snuggle one more baby to my breast and nourish them with this gift...to do something I'm good at and don't have to work to be good at...to be something I am--a nursing mother." And I suppose, with enough hours tied to a pump, I could produce milk again. (I had to check that night--when I squeeze, droplets of milk still come.) But Precious still isn't allowed to try to make suction until at least December. By then, she won't remember how to nurse. She hasn't had anything to suck since June the way it is. And so I'm done.

And it's going to have to be okay.

Time...

It's time to write at least some of the posts that have been written in my head over the last six weeks, so here goes...

I've decided on a blog name for the newest one in my family--Precious. Baby Girl may just have turned 3, but she is my Baby Girl and always will be. Though this little one is also technically my baby girl, it's just not the same. Baby Girl made me a mommy. And it seems a bit wrong to use an adjective for one of them and not the other, but over these six weeks, I've found myself calling this little one "Precious" so many times, just as I found myself calling Baby Girl "Baby Girl" when she was tiny. They are both precious and they are both baby girls. And as far as blog names, this is just how it's going to be.

So, now the story of Precious' birth.

Week 36 ~ Doctor usually does a cervix check at this appointment, but as it was Holy Week and she knew how badly I didn't want Precious born before Easter, she waited so as not to stimulate anything!

Week 37 ~ Dilated 3 cm, I had had a few contractions, but nothing real serious, nothing consistent or time-able.

Week 38, 1 day ~ times are approximate

9 a.m. appointment ~ dilated 3.5 cm, doctor says that my amniotic sac is really really low and that she is pretty sure I was having a contraction while she was checking me. She wants to monitor me for a while before letting me leave. (Reminder--I live 40 minutes from doctor/hospital city--she doesn't want me on the road!)

10 a.m. ~ hear hubby in waiting room as I'm being monitored. This is one of the week days that he works in doctor/hospital city. He was late into town following a meeting and knew my appointment should just be ending so had stopped by to check on me. He wondered why I wasn't out yet. I was having contractions every 4 minutes, feeling some of them. Doctor says to go walk a few hours, have something to eat, and come back.

We do. We go to the mall and walk it. We never have time together like this. We go to one of our favorite lunch places. I have contraband caffeine (I love cherry pepsi!) with lunch, deciding that if I'm in labor, I can have it! I am having regular contractions--I don't feel all of them if they are really 4 minutes apart and they aren't horrible, but I am sure we aren't headed home today!

1:30 p.m. ~ We go back to the doctor. I'm dilated 4 cm and after being monitored, I'm still having contractions every 4 minutes or so. She sends me to the hospital. We take both our vehicles there, knowing that when hubby's parents come to see new baby, one of them will drive his home. He's a bit worried, but it's only a drive of a few minutes.

2 p.m. ~ Check-in at hospital. During registration, we start process and it's moving slowly. They get to the question of why I'm there, I say..."I'm in labor" and they start to panic and try to rush. "Are you okay? Do you need to go right up?" No, I'm okay. I'm certainly feeling contractions, but no big deal. We do get into triage, I change into the gown and we wait....and wait...

3 p.m. ~ Nurse finally comes back. Another woman had come in and hadn't felt baby move and so triage nurse finds baby heartbeat, etc. to comfort the mom before coming back to me. As she checks me, my water breaks all over. And I mean, all over! Triage nurse jumps and manages to avoid most of it. "Well," she said, "you are being admitted for sure now!"

During this time, we get to our labor room. I'm monitored a bit, we walk. Contractions start to be ones that stop me so that I can't walk through them anymore. We call my mom to let her know that Baby Girl will be having a "campover" at her house that night. We tell her we'll call her when baby comes but that they should plan to wait until morning to come see us.

5 p.m. ~ By now I've decided to stay in bed because that really is the most comfortable as I breathe through contractions. Doctor comes to check on me. I'm dilated 8 cm. She asks if I want to push. I say no. Doctor says she isn't leaving, but she'll go and change into her scrubs. Next contraction, I think..."pushing might not be bad idea." Doctor comes back and I tell her.

5:40 p.m. ~ I start pushing. It's very different than with Baby Girl--in a good way. It hurts differently. I don't have pitocin-induced contractions on top of one another; I get a break between contractions. I know I scream when I'm pushing at different times. I have hubby's shirt in my hand twisted and tightened. He's putting cold washcloths on my head and neck. I'm grateful not to have an oxygen mask that made me feel like I couldn't breathe. (I know--that's backwards, but it's how I felt!) No tearing, nothing.

5:55 p.m. ~ Precious is laid on my tummy. I look at her beautiful body and smile. They take her to wash her and I'm pretty sure they said her Apgar's were 9/9. I remember thinking that they were better than Baby Girl's whose were 8/9. Deliver placenta--and actually look at it. It's pretty amazing and much bigger than I pictured. I'm glad I looked even if it was gross. I watch them clean and weigh Precious and check her over. I feel great! Even better after a shower.

I'm making calls shortly after to announce her birth. She's beautiful and I feel amazing. It's a surprise how much easier this was. With no drugs, no IV, no tearing, I feel incredible. I can't believe that I just gave birth. Thank God for that for so many reasons. Because if I had known what the weeks to come would bring, I'm not sure I'd have been able to handle them having to recover from labor too.

She's Here!

Baby was born today (Wednesday, May 4th) at 5:55 p.m. Baby Girl/Big Sister was right--it's a little girl. 7 lb. 13 oz, 20 in long. We are doing well--will post more later. It's late and I should try to sleep, but I'm still in a bit of adrenaline rush or something as I'm not sleepy. She is beautiful and healthy. Baby Girl will meet her tomorrow as we live 40 minutes from the hospital and thought disrupting sleep patterns would be worse than waiting! Baby Girl is having a 'camp-over' with Grandma so is in excellent hands. I still am kind of in shock that I actually gave birth to another human being--even if I've done this before. It's amazing and incredible. (And as a bonus, we avoided all the landmines of the due date! She's been a very accommodating baby so far.)

May Babies

Well, now it's pretty clear that I will have two May babies! Baby Girl (May 31) and this yet-to-be-named baby (both in nickname form and in real life). I'm starting to be ready, but not completely. There are still a few things I'd like to get in order at work before the baby comes. And I only have folks scheduled to fill in on Sundays starting May 22. I do have folks on call before then, but the less I have to rearrange Sundays the better! So, if I get through next Sunday too, great. But if not, no big deal. I was so worried about this baby being early that I have everyone anticipating it too. People are surprised to see me every time I see them. But that's okay. Baby's doing what it needs to be doing and that, for now, is growing inside me.

Milestone Two ~ Easter Morning

Made it! Baby has definitely dropped. Hubby's prediction is Wednesday, when I go see the doctor next. Now, the only things to avoid are step-daughter's high school graduation (May 22) and her final senior recital stuff (May 17). I'm still pretty sure I'll be early, so these should not be a problem as the 17th is my due date.

Easter Sermon

I'm ready for the next two days (Maundy Thursday and Good Friday), but not yet for Easter. Babies and new life are quite obviously on my brain--at least not in my arms! :)

Aside: I saw my doctor for my 36 week appointment on Tuesday. Usually a cervical check is done at that appointment, but since that can stimulate labor, she suggested waiting a week as she knew I want to get through Easter for sure! There was no real medical reason to do one right then as my blood pressure is good, I'm measuring okay even if big, I haven't had real contractions, etc. So that will come next week.

Anyway, back to the original post...As I look at Matthew's version of this story, I am seeing so many things that I could relate to pregnancy--and this phase of it in particular. And maybe that's a sermon I'll need to write for me...or a blog post or something...or maybe an article for Fidela's Sisters but I just don't think I can write it for this audience. I don't know enough people's stories. I feel like it would have the potential to cause more pain than it should if there are people who are struggling/have struggled with infertility or not having children by choice and later regretting it or people who just can't relate because they don't have children or are men or... And I don't want to get it written and then feel that way.

And my 36 week pregnant self is tired! So I'm copping out...I'm going to re-work an old Easter sermon (not preached here) and call it good. I hope. Now to work on it!

Milestone One

Today is the exact gestational age Baby Girl was when she was born. No signs of this baby! HOORAY! It's Holy Week after all; I have lots to do. I keep telling the baby, "just till after Easter, baby--then we can talk." I'm also doing lots of preparing--I figure the more I have ready, the less likely I am to need it. I'm also avoiding all those old wives tales that are to stimulate labor--I'm taking no chances. I see the doctor on Tuesday, so we'll see how things are going then. But I'm just happy to be to this point!

Ten on Tuesday

1. I really am big this time around! Up until this week's appointment, I've measured right on track. Yesterday (one day shy of 32 weeks), I measured at 35 weeks. The doctor said it could just be how the baby is laying. If I continue to grow exponentially at this rate at my next appointment in two weeks, she will order an ultrasound. Last time, it was at my 34 week appointment that I measured big and she ordered one. All was fine and Baby Girl was born 2 days shy of 2 weeks after that appointment.

2. 2 days shy of 36 weeks will be Palm Sunday. NO, NO, NO! I really want to get through Holy Week. I have 'fun' things planned, meaningful worship experiences that I want to lead. I have someone on-call who can do it, but...

3. Baby Girl is so cute now in her interaction with the baby. She 'plays patty-cake' with my tummy, hugs it and tells the baby she loves it. I'm hoping the infatuation continues once the baby is actually here!

4. Baby Girl has also decided to fully descend into the terrible 2s/3s. But really, she's not that bad. We are just having to do more time-outs and deal with more melt-downs. It'll be okay.

5. Baby Girl has also decided to not sleep through the night anymore. It's not quite so bad when she just shows up in our room and we put her in our bed. But between her getting up and waiting until I show up in her room and the amount of times I'm up in a night to use the bathroom--ugh! I'm not ready for the sleep deprivation of newbornhood. I hope Baby Girl decides that Daddy will be good enough in the night from here on out!

6. We, perhaps foolishly, are trying to build a 'big girl' bed for Baby Girl. It's a bunkbed that looks like a house. There's room for a twin mattress up top (which we won't actully get or use until she's old enough to actually sleep up there--we'll just play up there for now) and can be either used with a twin or full below. We'll be using a full below so that one of us can lay with her if need be.

7. This will mean she'll move to a different bedroom and the room she picked out as her room before we even bought the house will be for the baby.

8. The walls are a sort of pink--dark coral. Hubby asked, "if it's a boy, will we paint?" I said, "not at first." We can get some wall decals or something at first. I think if we add blue accents it'd be fine.

9. We are washing all the tiny clothes--I can't believe how tiny Baby Girl was. It's hard to imagine! It is starting to get real--and there is so much to do!

10. Can't just leave it at 9, so here's 10...must get back to tomorrow's sermon. Thanks to Teri at Clever Title Here for her willingness to share with me so I'm not starting from nothing!

Big

Big...belly ~ I feel so much bigger this time around. I also find myself comparing how big I was or how I felt at this time of year 3 years ago, but constantly have to remind myself that's not fair. Baby Girl was born in May (the 31st) but her due date was June 30. So even though this little one is due in May (and hopefully will be born in that month), I'm really 6 weeks farther along. So I should be bigger. And from what I understand, second time mommies get bigger faster. At every doctor's appointment, I'm measuring right on track. (Actually at the last appointment, I was measuring 1/2 week behind.) So I guess I just feel big.

Big...snow ~ 15 inches they said on the news between yesterday afternoon and this morning. Lots of high winds and blowing. Everything closed today and much closed tomorrow as well. I don't mind not getting out all that much, but we all get along better if hubby and Baby Girl get chances to go out.

Big...wuss ~ From what I hear, it's lots of men and I don't know that for sure, but I know it's true for hubby. He's sick--which means he has a cold. His head hurts and he feels like doing nothing. So he doesn't. But I still have work to do and I really need him to play with Baby Girl at least a little bit. If I felt like he looks and sounds, he would still expect me to be doing my normal stuff. I'm frustrated.

Edited on Thursday--okay, he's more sick than yesterday started. He has chills and fever so can't do as much, but that still didn't hit right away. So, now the question as he and she nap--try to get some work done or nap too (between his hacking and her coming into bed with me at 2:45 a.m. and me not sleeping well at all after that, I feel like I barely slept!)?

Thoughts at Halfway (ish)

The whole numbering of pregnancy weeks simply confuses me--and mostly doesn't matter a whole lot. But according to weeks, I'm just about halfway there. And it's been a long time since I posted, so...

I am becoming more excited about this baby. We had an ultrasound. We decided not to find out gender, sort of. We had the tech write it on a piece of paper and seal it in an envelope if we decide later we do want to know and don't have another ultrasound. (I ended up with 3 total for Baby Girl, to check on different things.) This one wasn't as thrilling as any for her; partly because I didn't like the tech. We had my first ultrasound with this baby with her and she forgot to record certain things; I had to go back the next day (60 miles round trip). And she just irked me--can't really explain it.

Anyway, more than seeing the baby is that I can feel it more and more. It's still not consistent movements, but there's a lot more. Just when I start to think, "I haven't felt the baby for a long time, something's wrong" I feel something. And that's good and I'm relieved. I think it was about this time that I began to call Baby Girl "my little swimmer" because it seriously felt like she was swimming laps--touch one side, swim, touch other side, repeat, repeat, repeat. (And she LOVES the water today.)

Haven't come up with a nickname for this one--didn't plan to with Baby Girl, so it still might happen. And as an aside, if intuition is anything, this one is also a girl. With Baby Girl, I felt girl all along, but talked myself into thinking it was a boy because I was so certain I'd be wrong. Hubby thought girl because he kept thinking boy but was certain he'd be wrong. I guess I haven't asked him what he thinks this time.

I loved being pregnant with Baby Girl. I don't hate being pregnant this time--I don't love it the same way. Baby Girl made me a mother, a mommy, the one thing I wanted to be my entire life. And now I am that, no matter what happens. So there's not the same newness that came with my pregnancy with her. And there's not the same preparation--no 'stuff' to buy (well a few things I wish we'd had), but for the most part, no preparation. It's just so different.

And I'm tired of being a mother of a toddler. I love Baby Girl with all that I am, but it's exhausting in such a different way than having a baby. And she's not even really that difficult of a child. She has a few tantrums, but not many. She'll put herself in time-out and calm down quickly when placed there by us. Bedtime takes so long many nights and she only wants me. I'd love to share this with hubby. We've temporarily put potty training on hold as she's been withholding poop and that's a vicious cycle of constipation and pain that we want to break before spending too much time focusing on the potty. And besides, when on earth am I supposed to train her when I'm at work all week. There's not consistency in that! I know--it's a phase, it's part of life. It will get better and it's not awful. It just is.

And in the meantime, I'll grow this baby I'm learning to love and I'll love Baby Girl and put one foot in front of the other. It will be okay.

Thoughts on Pregnancy--Due Date Woes

As I said, the due date was (and is) the easiest for me to articulate when it comes to my apprehension about this pregnancy. My due date is May 17--the ultrasound guesstimate was May 21 (even worse in some ways!) but since those can be off a week either way, my doctor says we go with May 17.

Here's why it's bad...

Professionally...
The one-year anniversary of starting my call to this place--May 1. I really, really, really wanted to be here more than one year before having a baby. And yes, with May 17--it's possible, but oh so barely.

Easter is really late this year--April 24. Not quite in the 2 week window for due dates, but darn close--especially when Baby Girl was a full month early! Since she had no problems related to being early, maybe I just gestate shorter than average--it's possible. Really, really don't want to miss my first Holy Week/Easter here!

Synod Assembly is May 20-21. Not a huge deal, but I don't like missing these. Yes, I'm insane. I know.

Family...
May 31 is Baby Girl's birthday. Well in the 2 week window. She's young enough that if we have to change a day of celebrating, it won't be a big deal. But I don't want her to have to share her birthday! We'll probably end up doing one family party in May in the years to come anyway.

May 13 is when my stepson is to graduate from college. At this point, he says he's not going to participate in the ceremony, but I think his mom will probably make him. At least he won't care much if we can't make it because of the new baby. He is really laid back and takes everything in stride.

Now the biggie...May 22 is when my stepdaughter graduates from high school. (May 16 and 17 are her two final senior music performances) She was not happy to hear Baby Girl was on the way...she's adjusted beautifully. However, I knew she wouldn't be thrilled with the due date. When we told her I was pregnant, she said, "when?" Mid-may was what we answered rather than the date. Her words to her dad were "well, you better not miss my graduation." Ouch. I get it, I do. Every child wants her daddy there on special days. We have done everything in our power to get him to as many events as he can possibly. (And I've even gone alone to some events to videotape when he couldn't go--driving 3 plus hours in the winter to do so!) And I want him to be there for her. But if I'm having this baby, I want him with me more. Stepdaughter and I have always gotten along okay. There's never been "you aren't my mother" stuff--partly because I've never tried to be her mother, just someone who loves and cares for her. And sometimes, perhaps now more than ever when I'm more hormonal, I want to shake her and remind her how much her dad loves her, how much he's been there for, how much he makes every effort, and yes, while's he's not there every night and day since her mom and he couldn't work it out, she has had so many more opportunities to share special things with him than I ever did with my dad. She's had him nearly twice as long and more often than not, when she has a choice, she doesn't choose to spend time with him. (Especially now that we are 20 minutes from her and she has a car.) He lets her choose to do other things. He doesn't command she come over or beg her too, usually. He's asked on occasion. But I really, really, really don't want to put hubby in the position of choosing me/baby and her graduation. I don't want her to resent me any more than she might/does(?) for taking her daddy away from her. (Never mind--her dad didn't leave her mom for me, but I'm not sure how she thinks about it.) I don't want her to have reason to resent this baby too--it was hard enough to accept that she was no longer Daddy's baby--and baby girl no less.

Thoughts on Pregnancy, Part 2

At first, I didn't really want to tell anyone. I know there's the (un?)spoken rule about not sharing in the first trimester because the risks of miscarriage is greater then. And that was okay; I didn't want to tell. I kept expecting something to go wrong because I wasn't sure about what I was feeling. I didn't WANT a miscarriage, but I wondered how upset I would be if I had one. I've read blogs of many women who mourn intensely at 5 weeks (which was before I even found out) and name that child and everything. I don't really know when I start defining 'child'--but for me, it's not that soon. But everyone is different and I don't know the story that led them to that point; we all handle things in different ways. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't name the child at that point though.

Maybe we just aren't good at naming! With Baby Girl, we picked out the boy name well before I was due--it was the only first boy name we could agree on. (And my only naming criteria was that I wanted/want to use my dad's middle name as a boy middle name so they had to go together.) Baby Girl, we were narrowing it down--and made our final narrowing down to 2 on the way to the hospital! I named her when I saw her and have never regretted it for a second! But I guess that's beside the point.

And then I went for my first prenatal visit--just with the nurse. And found out the due date from her; I had found calendars on-line too. And it was reconfirmed why the timing was so horrible (which I promise I'll get to at some point!) which was the part I could most articulate as to why I was having mixed feelings.

One funny from that visit--the nurse was asking questions about medical history, etc. and asked if I had ever had fertility problems. I just laughed--I got pregnant while on birth control, uh, no! (I know infertility isn't funny--but it certainly hasn't been my problem!)

But there was a glimmer of hope for me about my due date--I was hoping we were really wrong! The nurse was able to find a heartbeat--which was really early for that with my due date and she said it was higher than she'd expect. That coupled with the fact that I was on birth control could have my dating wrong, even though we knew when I had my last period. For that reason and for the genetic testing my doctor now does, I was scheduled to have an ultrasound. Perhaps that would indicate a different due date.

That made me feel a better; though still uncertain.

Thoughts on Pregnancy

It's my blog, right? I can say whatever I want. But it sometimes is hard to admit things...and this is probably the best place to do it because those who read (those I know in real life and those I don't, but feel like I do from blogreading) seem like the people I can trust with these thoughts.

In early August, I had my annual physical. My doctor asked about whether or not we would have more kids. My response was that it was possible; we were discussing trying for a few months early in 2011. I also said, "Right now would be a horrible time to get pregnant; the timing would be really bad." (Because of the due date--more on that later!)

And then August passed and I was thinking lots of things. Hubby and I talked; he turns 40 in 2011. That's his cut-off for having kids. I get it; he has a 21 year old son, a 17 year old daughter and 2 1/2 year old Baby Girl. This is a big enough span--there's already the chance that Baby Girl and baby#2 will have close in age nieces or nephews. At least the older kids aren't trying to follow in their parents footsteps and start young! Stepson isn't really interested in girls, or rather he's socially awkward enough that he hasn't met people. Stepdaughter has a boyfriend, but (while I know it's possible) I think that both she and he are not to that point.

I was also thinking about the fact that I'm happy to be nearing the end of diapers and the need for 100% constant supervision. I'm in the throes of terrible two's and I don't know if I want to deal with that again. Baby Girl is still my heart and I don't know how I'll be able to share time and attention.

And then...I was late in September and in denial. I was particularly stressed; the start of a program year at a new call will do that to you. I had started a new generic of the same active birth control pill ingredient and when I've done that before, I've been late. And so I just kept going along. Until I realized that September came and went and I was REALLY late and I had other symptoms. So I took a pregnancy test.

And it was positive. Even though I can't read those stinking things...really, they are idiot-proof. I got the same kind I took with Baby Girl and I didn't read it right then either. Hubby looked at it and there was no doubt. And then when I paid attention to the picture that says which is which, I was like--duh!

And I wasn't thrilled. I wasn't elated. I was scared and unhappy and unsure. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. I was at the point where I wasn't sure I wanted it to. But it had.

Preoccupied

So I obviously gave up on the posting everyday in November thing--and I'm okay with that. I've been preoccupied with that which I wasn't ready to blog about until I made the news public in real life. And now that it is public, I'm still preoccupied with this baby. And still very busy with church, especially this Advent season. So I'll be posting more than before November, I think!

Baby Girl Needs...

a new blog nickname. Because....

come spring/summer she will no longer be the baby in our house.

One Year

One year ago at this time, I was cradling a tiny six pound bundle in my arms, wrapped in three warmed blankets. I had seen her fingers and toes from a distance, but she was so tiny they bundled her up so quick. I was aching to see those fingers and toes, but contented myself with examining her beautiful face, of holding her close, of wanting her to be warm, of the unbelievable reality of what the day had brought. Baby Girl had entered the world at 6:58 p.m.

Right now, it's 8:22 p.m. It's been a long and exhausting day. Sundays are for me anyhow, but we celebrated this little bundle today. Only one uncle (my sister's husband) was unable to be here. Baby Girl's Grandma P. and Grandpa L. (Daddy's parents), Grandma J. (my mom), Auntie K. (my sister), Uncle B. (Daddy's brother) and Auntie C. (not to be confused with Auntie K. of the same sounding name) with their two boys, Big Brother, Big Sister, and Beloved Babysitter and her husband and four boys. But I was able to snuggle my baby girl who is getting so big--23 pounds or so and kiss her beautiful face, to marvel in what those tiny fingers can do today. It was a lovely day. I hoped to write poetically about this day--which I recently found out is a lesser church festival--the day of Mary's visitation to Elizabeth, and this day this year is Pentecost. Those posts will have to wait for when I have more energy.

For now, I am so thankful for the unbelievable reality of this day--this precious Baby Girl who was given to me, entered this world one year ago today, and continually reminds me how blessed I am.

Reflecting

My Baby Girl is eleven months old today and I'm feeling a bit reflective, but it's not so much because of this day. A 4 month old baby girl died in my community this week. I don't know the family at all but I know people who do. Apparently she was a healthy girl and so they are saying it was SIDS. She went to the babysitter and never came home. I've been thinking about the mother especially. I love nursing my baby. There are moments I complain--I never thought my life would revolve around my breasts. But life has these eleven months. I need to know when she's eaten; I need to plan when I go somewhere if she might eat; I need to carry the pump with everyday to work; I know when it's been a long time between feedings. At the same time, though, there is nothing more restful than her gently nursing and slipping into sleep. It always calms and relaxes me too, sometimes to the point that I just fall asleep too. To be able to do this is such a gift. So I've been thinking about this mother. I don't know if she was breastfeeding or not, but I can't help but think of how awful it must be--full breasts, empty arms. My baby's getting extra love.

Back to Work

So I am back to work after a week off and am procrastinating the piles on my desk, so...some thoughts from the past week.

• Hubby had "Spring Break" so I took the week off too. It was so nice for the three of us to just be home together.
• We had a 'to-do' list a mile long, none of which was church work.
• We got much of it done, though not the one major task I wanted to accomplish.
• I did not do church work until Monday night! Couldn't help thinking about church, but avoided it pretty well.
• We took Baby Girl to the park for the first time. It was finally warm enough! She giggled and giggled as she rode in a big girl swing. She wasn't sure of the slide that we went down together. But it was a wonderful family outing!
• We went to a friend's wedding and spent the night in that town about 2 hours from our place. We left Baby Girl at our home with Grandma (my mom) for about 23 hours. It was my first time away from Baby Girl overnight and only the second time I wasn't there when she went to bed. It was difficult, but not horrible. I was only a bit weepy when I saw the babies at the reception. The worst part was figuring out timing for pumping and storage of milk as I'm still nursing. I flipped through photos of her on hubby's iPhone a few times throughout the day and right before bed. Unfortunately the bed at the hotel wasn't very comfy, so I didn't have hours of uninterrupted sleep as I hoped. I was very happy to get home and she was happy to see me. She snuggled into me like she usually only does when she is really tired and let me hold her and sit down for a while. She usually likes to be on the move!
• Speaking of being on the move...her crawling is now rapid, even on slippery floors...AND, she is walking! Her walks are about 10 steps before plopping down. If she has a destination, she will continue to it by crawling, but if there is anything to pull up on nearby, she'll do that first. She is starting to get brave and adventurous. The things just beyond reach and that are 'no-no's are now the most exciting. But she is smart and beautiful and healthy. She will be 10 months old next week and currently weighs 21 pounds and is 28 inches long, well into 12 month sized clothing...still short but catching up on height.
• I so needed the time away and though I don't want to be doing work right now, I have a bit of steam to get me through a little longer anyway.

Remember You Are Dust

Six years (almost) into ministry, I preached my first Ash Wednesday sermon and for the first time placed the ashes on the foreheads of my congregation. (Why not before--I'm not really sure.) I had to/got to(?) mark the sign of the cross on my precious Baby Girl's sleeping face and say, "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." It didn't choke me up then as much as today.

It's been a rough week here...

How many breaths, how many days, how many years are enough?

On Thursday last week, we celebrated the funeral of a 95 year old woman, who up until a few months ago was full of life. I saw her just before Christmas and took Baby Girl in to the nursing home to see her. She had recently moved to the home and hadn't seen Baby Girl yet. She told me how beautiful my girl was/is, "the only baby more beautiful was mine," she said.

On Monday this week, we celebrated the funeral of a 73 year old woman, who has had health problems for years, such that I assumed incorrectly that she was much older than she is. 73--that's only 4 years older than my mother and I thought of her more like a grandma. She's struggled, yes, but death was a shock--a sudden downturn after my most recent visit to her in the hospital when she was going in for an angiogram (routine stuff for her).

Just now I returned to the office after sitting for an hour with a 90-something year old woman whose family called to say that she was now on hospice care. She had a stroke a few weeks ago and has given up. They said that she had been looking good but today looked bad. Unfortunately, no family was there when I was. I left a prayer shawl made by members of our congregation and a note. I agree--she didn't look good and I don't expect her to live very long.

But on the way home, it hit me hard. "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." And I thought about my Baby Girl. I realize that I don't think about the future much...I think about today. Maybe it's because I know the fragility of life--both from this line of work but also from losing my dad when I was young. I love her so much and don't want to smother her as she grows, but I want to make the most of whatever moments we have. Perhaps that is why this trying to be pastor and mother is so hard for me. I don't want to spend every second with her; I know that's not healthy for either one of us. But we're dust--we only have now.