Outside my window…
it’s cloudy and kind of hazy. Just like I feel. (Yesterday was a beautiful day in the mid-70’s. I took Christian for a walk in the park for the first time.) All I’ve really noticed outside is the squirrels playing in our front yard. I do plan on taking another walk today. Walks help me survive on these exhausted days.

I am thinking…
about what I should make for dinner tonight. I didn’t make a menu plan this week like I usually do, just picked up some basic ingredients at the store. I have ground beef, tortillas, lots of pasta, pork, frozen tortellini, assorted frozen vegetables… I was thinking burritos maybe.

Also, today is Christian’s one-month birthday!

I am thankful for…
hot showers. For some reason I was thinking of all the mission trip stories I’ve heard about cold showers and sponge baths. Hot showers are so refreshing, and being able to be clean is a huge blessing that I often take for granted.

From the kitchen…
I didn’t realize this was coming up in the meme, so I already discussed dinner. I am craving blueberry muffins for some reason. I just ate leftover cheddar chicken and potatoes from last night. I drank a little coffee but not too much since it tends to make me jittery, and I am hoping to nap this afternoon.

I am wearing…
a green v-neck top with a white tank top, and knit black pants. My feet are cold.

I am creating…
a binder with all of my lists in it. I have been keeping my chore and to-do lists and all of my other various lists in a regular notebook, but I am now sorting them all into a binder so they are easier to access, and so I can add or subtract pages as needed. I’m such a nerd when it comes to my lists… I just function so much better when I know everything’s written down and I don’t have to try to remember it. I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with my control-freak tendencies, either.

I am going…
to drink a lot of cold water. It keeps me going when I’m this out of it.

I am reading…
Psalms and Genesis, with occasional excursions to Isaiah and the epistles; a biography of Abigail Adams; and I just started Home by Marilynne Robinson. I’m also finishing up a book by/about Katherine Parr (the British queen).

I am hoping…
that my baby will start sleeping more at night soon. That I’ll be able to take a nap this afternoon. (Yes, I’m a little sleep-obsessed right now.)

I am hearing…
the house fan and the keys on the keyboard.

Around the house…
everything’s cleaned up, thankfully, except for a couple dishes in the sink. Another survival technique for crazy days – keeping things in their places. Visual peace.

One of my favorite things…
getting Christian out of bed. As thankful as I am for naptime and nighttime sleep, I am so happy to see him when he gets up. He’s my little buddy. He was quite talkative after his breakfast this morning – it was so cute.

A few plans for the rest of the week…
women’s small group tonight, which we haven’t had since October. There have been three babies born since then – two in November, and Christian in February. We don’t really have any plans for the rest of the week, which is kind of rare. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Each weekend has gotten progressively more “normal” as Christian gets a week older.

A picture thought I am sharing…
of my little munchkin, of course…

This is what Christian is doing right now. I rocked him until he was almost asleep, laid him down in his bassinet, and kept my hand on him until he was asleep… I love putting him to sleep, it’s such quality time (usually). He did not like his bassinet when he came home from the hospital, so he’s been sleeping in an infant seat, but I think he’s succeeding in making the transition… yay! This is my morning. I won’t post a picture of how my house (or I) look at the moment… I’m off to take advantage of my little one’s naptime.

It’s all still hazy. Sleep deprivation kind of makes life that way.

Mothering a newborn (and, I assume, mothering a child of any age) requires continual re-adjustment. Just when I think, “Okay, I’ve got this down,” he changes it up on me.

I have to remind myself to breathe sometimes. I almost hold my breath, stressing myself out – listening for him to start crying after I lay him down, waiting for his eyes to close while I’m rocking him, hoping he won’t wake up in the library.

I’m loving staying home with him. We’ve been getting in a somewhat-good routine, loosely based on Babywise but without really “crying it out” or scheduling – just following the eat/wake/sleep pattern as much as possible, and also using the 2.5-3-hr. feeding time as a general guideline. That’s helped him learn the difference between night and day.

Now at 3 weeks, though, he’s starting to change things up on me – waking more during the night, not taking full feedings during the day, and becoming quite a bit of work to get to sleep. So today I’m keeping a log of everything he’s doing, and trying to get him on a little more of a schedule, and lay him down to sleep when he’s drowsy but still awake. (While still remaining flexible, responsive to his hunger cues, and not being controlling or militant about it. Whew.) Still, he’s proving a lot more responsive than when I tried the same thing a couple of weeks ago. He’s much more ready to put himself to sleep now.

When she came down to visit after Christian was born, my mom brought me a copy of devotionals from Susannah Spurgeon (yes, Charles Spurgeon’s wife). They have been an immense encouragement to me over the past few weeks, often being exactly what I needed to hear that day. There are only a couple dozen of them; I wish she had written hundreds! Here are a few excerpts that have been meaningful to me:

“It is not my poor, cold, half-hearted love that is to satisfy and comfort me; but Your love, great, and full, and free, and eternal as Yourself! Surely, I had known this before, Lord; but I had shut myself up in unbelief till, in Your sweet mercy, You spoke the word that released me from my chains, opened my prison doors, and let me out into the sunshine of true peace in believing.”

“Lord, my soul flings itself on this glorious fact, this saving truth, as a drowning man seizes upon a life-belt thrown to him in the surging sea! If you do not love me and lift me, I must perish for ever. But there is no question of sinking when Jesus saves, no fear of losing life when He loves… Now, all the day long, my heart shall sing over the safety and blessedness of being freely loved, instead of fretting about the sad lack of my poor love to You.”

“God’s negatives and affirmatives are like great rocks jutting out from the insecure and shifting sands of all earthly experiences.”

-Free Grace and Dying Love: Morning Devotions by Susannah Spurgeon

He’s 2 weeks old now. 15 days, to be exact.

My house is messy… my schedule and lists are out the window… getting the simplest things done takes much time and discipline. Seeking the Lord first is a challenge that requires grace in a whole new context.

Baby cries, sleeps, eats, and fills his diaper. He holds onto my fingers, recognizes me when I walk into the room, and is not content unless I’m holding him.

He almost smiled at his daddy last night. His actual smiles are still reflexes, but they’re adorable and I can’t wait until they’re real.

We’re making it one day at a time. He’s such a precious gift.

I love my little son! Becoming a mother has been an amazing experience. It will take me awhile to begin to put it into words.

I’m working on the long version of Christian’s birth story. I’m planning to post a blog-friendly version here when I finish it. But I wanted to post the abridged version now since that may not be for a few days.

I went into labor on my own – yay! – starting Monday afternoon. I was having regular contractions all afternoon and evening, and they were growing consistently stronger and closer together. We called the hospital and they told us to come in around 9. I progressed very slowly and very painfully until around 2:30, when I was given an epidural (l-o-v-e). Once I had the epidural, my contractions started to slow down a little, so they gave me Pitocin to augment my labor (which I was fine with since I knew Christian had started coming on his own and was ready to be born). We rested until about 8:15 that morning, when I began pushing. After just over an hour of pushing, Christian was born at 9:30, healthy and alert. My husband was a wonderful coach and support throughout the whole thing. I feel like we did it together. I don’t know what I would have done without him.

I’m recovering really well, and of course losing lots of sleep. I got six hours last night, the most I’ve had since he was born, and I feel a-m-a-z-i-n-g! He’s getting adjusted to life and I’m starting to try to get him into a routine – which means he’s waking every two or three hours to eat instead of every hour. Quite the relief.

There’s a mini-update! Thank you for all of your sweet thoughts, prayers, and congratulations – they are so kind.

Born 2/9/10 at 9:30 a.m.
8 pounds, 1 ounce
22 inches

I love him!
More to come…

Dear Baby,

Please come. We are all ready to meet you.

Love,
Mama

I had planned on writing a more meditative post, but I’m keeping it short and sweet. Again, check my Twitter for updates (or if you know me in real life, my Facebook status – my tweets are forwarded there). Not because I plan on tweeting through labor! But it should get updated before I’m able to post here.

Photo credit

Is it really necessary? No. I think it’s meant to be a courtesy, and it’s a nice thought. I have used it at Babies ‘R’ Us because there are always open spots. And let me tell you, I would appreciate it when I’m pushing a full cart of groceries halfway across the parking lot. Especially if I lived in one of the northern states where it’s icy. I would also have appreciated it back when I was sick to my stomach 24/7.

But truly, I think courtesy parking spots (other than handicapped, obviously) should be for customers with young children, or (bonus!) pregnant women with small children. For most pregnant women (and there are exceptions, of course; I don’t have any complications), it’s a lot easier to walk across a parking lot, even at 40+ weeks, than it is to unload one or more small children and take them into the store safely.

So. My $.02. What do you think?

I resonate with these words I’m about to quote. They describe a reality I’ve experienced, but had never expressed.

Do they make pregnancy seem ethereal and romantic? A little. Pregnancy is firmly rooted in the prosaic. In backaches and throwing up. In swelling and doctor’s appointments. In weight gain and nursery planning. In fleece blankets and tiny socks. In carseats and cribs.

But just like in the rest of life, the prosaic is merely a veil for the miraculous. Yes, I just interrupted the writing of this post to go to the bathroom for the 134th time today. Yet there is a new life mysteriously united with mine. Just the way we all began. How can anyone say there is no mystery or miracle in life? How can anyone be a nihilist? The beginning of human life is a fragile, powerful creation.

There is something lonely about pregnancy that can not be assuaged. I felt this from the very beginning and sort of expected it to go away with time. It has not and possibly will not.

It’s as if a pregnant woman enters this new realm of spiritual mystery, a water that must be traveled alone. For some reason I picture the underground lake from the Phantom of The Opera.

It is traveled alone because there is no other way. I don’t think our human minds or hearts can hold what it means to give birth to a life. We cannot fathom such a miracle, and the mother who carries the child cannot speak of the depth she experiences, simply because she does not have the words.

In the middle of the night, wide awake, I stare at the pack and play in our room where the new baby will sleep very soon. I walk over to it and push the button that turns on its nightlight. I touch the fabric where we will soon lay our son or daughter. And I hear the hum. The constant hum that Debra writes about. She says,

“One indisputable truth about pregnancy is that once the baby is in there, it must come out somehow. The end is near, the end is real. The only way out is through.”

I am afraid of the birth itself, I would be a fool not to be. But more than that, I tremble at the enormity of experiencing life on this level. Experiencing the Creator on this level. How is it that He gives us such a taste of something so far beyond our current capacity? I have not yet seen this child’s face, and already I am overwhelmed with awe.

-Alli Rogers, Afraid

First photo credit

Second photo credit

I’ve been blessed to be able to stay at home over the past few months. I officially stopped working about a month ago, which actually gave me a lot more time in my day. I would be gone for about 3 1/2 hours, usually, which is a big chunk out of the middle of the day and gave me some structure.

So far, this past month, I’ve been able to keep pretty busy. I’ve enjoyed relaxing, but I feel guilty unless I am somewhat productive. And the only reason I could enjoy the past few weeks is because I know it’s a very short season!

I know I should enjoy every restful moment, but I think I’m done. I do my daily cleaning, I cook dinner, I work on my little to-do list, but I am ready for the purposefulness of being a stay-at-home mom.

And beyond that, I am so ready to be done being pregnant, and to meet my baby! Labor is a small price to pay.