A lot has happened since my last post - namely, we're pregnant! I will be in my second trimester next week - hallelujah! I am far more sick this time than I ever was with Graham, and I am praying the sickness subsides soon. However, I am trying to remind myself to be grateful for every nauseating afternoon, as it means this little Monkey (the name Graham has chosen) is growing!
We had what is known in medical terms as a 'chemical pregnancy' in March, which basically means a very early miscarriage - ours was between 4-5 weeks pregnant. It was a really difficult time for a few weeks - grieving a loss we never fully even felt. Almost as soon as we realized I was pregnant, we miscarried. I think I am still processing it in some ways. We had no idea we were pregnant again the following month - we just thought I should go and get everything checked out at the doctor. We were shocked, to put it mildly. I think we both re-went through the grieving process after finding out we were pregnant again, and, I'll be honest, the first few weeks of this pregnancy I was pretty nervous. We'd been trying for a year to have another baby, so the emotional ups and downs of the last few months (combined with all the hormonal changes!) have been draining.
After finding out about the pregnancy, Jim and I were talking and realized just how much of a roller coaster life has been for the last few months. It kept frustrating me that I couldn't ever quite feel like we had a good routine down or a new 'normal' after quitting work - and it's no surprise. Here's a snippet:
September: Quit my job of 7 years, have home for sale, planning to move 1000 miles away.
October: 2 week visit to Iowa (planned location of move), start 'stay at home mom life'
November: Graham starts having severe reactions again; 2 year old birthday party, referral to a pediatric gastroenterologist, hosting Thanksgiving, house that never sold comes off the market
December: Gastroenterologist appointment, allergist appointment, lots of bloodwork, diagnosis of FPIES, 20 hour road trip to Iowa, Jim's job becomes very unstable due to regulation changes
January: A week of the flu, Jim barely has any hours, I get a concussion and am out of commission for 2 weeks, Jim starts his second Master's degree so he can get his LPC
February: Jim's gets a 'new' position that is far more stable, we decide we are staying in Lynchburg, build a garden to start our little homestead here
March: We get chickens, find out we're pregnant, then miscarry
April: Start Graham on new supplementation for 'leaky gut', I start a new job (one case of family coaching), officially start our garden, find out we are pregnant again!
I write that out more for me to remember than anything, so I apologize if I you are now bored out of your skull. But, seriously. It's been a heck of a time the past few months. We keep joking that whatever God wants us to learn we'd like to have it all learned for a while now. :)
I've been learning a lot about mom life, but also just about me, us as a family, and what's important to us. Some of those things are intentionality in our family time, taking care of our home and what has been entrusted to us, building community (which we have been having a great time getting to know our wonderful neighbors!), and (I feel like a broken record) living life more slowly.
The older Graham gets, the more fond memories I have of my childhood - which, at the time, I thought was boring at times (sorry mom); but I've realized how valuable that time was. There are things we do differently - we travel a lot more and have Graham experience a lot more culture, which were two things I didn't do a lot of and want him to experience from a young age. But, we didn't do lots of exciting things, we didn't have playdates all the time or run to 15 different stores (because we didn't have them maybe, ha!), we played outside or used our imaginations to create fictional worlds of Legos and Barbies, and we had a few close friends. And that was it. And we're realizing we want that not only for Graham, but for ourselves too. Living in Lynchburg since college, it's easy to get stuck in the 'college life' mindset, of always going, always doing, always being with everyone at everything. With kids, that's near impossible, but it's also not practical. Life isn't always exciting and sometimes the everyday can be the best part.
Anyways, I'm rambling. I say all of that partly to note that I changed the URL and name of my blog. The URL is now just my name, and the 'title' if you will is 'Back to My Roots'. I think this gives a bit more freedom for me to just talk about life - homesteading, marriage, friends, church, politics (because you know I can't not), and mom life.
So, here's to the next crazy few months, and then we'll have a newborn! I'm beginning to wonder if our 'routine' is 'don't count on one. Ever.' :)
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Where We Are
I've been on a thinking kick lately, which means a writing slump. A lot of people have to write to get their thoughts out, but I have to think and think and think and then write. I don't know why. It's just how my brain works.
Since my 2-week stint in bed with a concussion at the beginning of this year, I have been learning a lot about slowing down, being intentional and what living actually looks like. I know, those are all almost cliches at this point; every time you turn around there's a new book or blog post about living in the moment and savoring the now. But I think that's because there are so many of us that are searching for that 'perfect' formula of enjoying where we are, when we are there. If it wasn't a common struggle, it wouldn't be selling like it is.
While intentionality can be applied to so many areas, I've been pondering it in my current roles of 'mom' and 'homemaker'. I keep seeing the quote 'Wherever you are, be all there'. It's all over Pinterest in cute fonts and chalkboard prints. The quote is from Jim Elliot, a missionary who was killed by the people he was called to serve. When I Googled (I love that that's a verb) the quote, I found that it's only half of what he said. Here's the whole thing:
Since my 2-week stint in bed with a concussion at the beginning of this year, I have been learning a lot about slowing down, being intentional and what living actually looks like. I know, those are all almost cliches at this point; every time you turn around there's a new book or blog post about living in the moment and savoring the now. But I think that's because there are so many of us that are searching for that 'perfect' formula of enjoying where we are, when we are there. If it wasn't a common struggle, it wouldn't be selling like it is.
While intentionality can be applied to so many areas, I've been pondering it in my current roles of 'mom' and 'homemaker'. I keep seeing the quote 'Wherever you are, be all there'. It's all over Pinterest in cute fonts and chalkboard prints. The quote is from Jim Elliot, a missionary who was killed by the people he was called to serve. When I Googled (I love that that's a verb) the quote, I found that it's only half of what he said. Here's the whole thing:
“Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.”
Interesting. I've seen the phrase used to remind us to focus on the present, be in the moment. But I've never seen the last half of it. I think that the last half may be more important that the first. It's more than just 'being all there' in whatever you're doing. It's realizing that 'where you are', if, in fact, you believe it truly is where God wants you to be, should have all of yourself poured into it. We were made to bring God glory (or, as Graham says when saying his Catechism: 'to gwoify God'), and it would then make sense to live life to the full where.we.are.
This has been a hard thing for me the past few months. I quit my job in preparation for moving halfway across the country, to be close to family and live a slower pace of life. But, God had other plans. It took a while for me to realize that maybe all of that was more of a push to get us to do those things here. Where we are. Slow down. Focus on family. Be OK with staying home. Not run everywhere all the time. Not spread ourselves so thin. Be OK with saying no. Raise some chickens. We don't have to be in Iowa, we don't even have to be in the county to do those things.
It's been a hard thing to do. I've had weeks that I packed so full that I was barely home (stay-at-home mom can easily mean 'We fill our days outside of the home because it's easier', or, at least for me it can). Part of me was running from home, because it wasn't what I planned and, honestly, the monotony of dishes and laundry and 'Mommy come pway twains with me!' can be as mind-dulling as it is simultaneously exhausting. It's very hard some days to feel like it matters, especially compared to the tangible ways I could see my days mattering when I worked in the human services field. When most of your day has consisted of cleaning, cooking, cleaning after cooking, and trying to pretend you have an imagination that matches your two year old's while you're really thinking of all the things you could be doing instead, it's hard to see the value in what you did that day.
That's a hard thing to do in our culture. Our need for the next best thing, or even to 'live life to the full' may cause us to feel like our current situation isn't doing that. Rather than choosing to see that maybe this, this where we are is where we can fully live, we choose to think 'if only' that it would then be full. We try to fill our lives so we can be 'all there' in what seems the ideal, rather than being 'all there' where we are and letting that fill us.
So I'm finding that my 'being all there' doesn't have to necessarily be grandiose or even have tangible progress at the end of the day. Because if this - this 'just being a mom' - is where I'm supposed to be right now, then I will be the most satisfied, and most fulfill my role, when I am all in. Where I am. And as time goes and seasons change, different opportunities will arise, new phases of life will come. And as they do, big or small, I am seeing that where we are is without a doubt, always, the best place to be.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
On Friends
Seriously have to get better about blogging more often. I say this at least 3 times/year. Maybe it will stick one of these times. I digress...
This is a short post in honor of friends. Good friends. Friends you can count on no matter what. Through marriages, children, moves, great times and hard times, they're still there. The ones that can text you about when their kid finally has a normal poop and know that you're both going to be so excited about it. Or the ones that you live far away from but know that they can call you when something's wrong, or that you can send a random text to and they just get it, and you pick up right where you left off. The friends that you ended up with because your husbands were best friends, and all of a sudden you are too.
The ones that you see three times a week and share mom life with. The ones that you see every few weeks and share non-mom life with. The ones that love your kids like their own and you take turns giving hugs and kisses and reprimands and 'do you need a time out's' and it's all just in stride because you know you love each other and your kids and you're doing this whole parenting thing together. When your marriage isn't doing well and they know it's OK to ask you about it. When they're stressed and life is crazy and they need to vent and you sit for 3 hours at a Mexican restaurant and just hash it out. When you can say 'Praise the Lord!' and 'life is shitty' in the same breath and they completely understand.
I have a good friend getting married, and have had multiple friends with hard marriages. I have a best friend moving away soon, and I'm still going to be here. I have friends that I am growing with, and friends that our relationships have changed over the years, as we have changed.
I have friends. Great ones. Ones that I don't know where I would be without them. Sometimes I categorize them: the Fab Five. Small Group. Moms. Far-away friends. But really? I am so, so thankful for all of them. Walking through life with people isn't something to be taken for granted, and each and every one of them is so dear to me.
So, as I lie in bed with a sudden case of some flu-like ick, I wanted to take 5 minutes away from binge-watching Parenthood to write this. Because I had a girls night with some of them last night. And MOPS with some of them this morning. And a couple of those friends at my house today, who knew it was OK to stay all afternoon even if I had to go lie down. Who knew that our home is their home and our boys are going to grow up together, wherever we live. Who have seen us at our very worst and our very best, our ugly cries and our joyous shouts.
To all my friends: I am so grateful for you.
Also, Katie, please don't leave. Thanks. :)
This is a short post in honor of friends. Good friends. Friends you can count on no matter what. Through marriages, children, moves, great times and hard times, they're still there. The ones that can text you about when their kid finally has a normal poop and know that you're both going to be so excited about it. Or the ones that you live far away from but know that they can call you when something's wrong, or that you can send a random text to and they just get it, and you pick up right where you left off. The friends that you ended up with because your husbands were best friends, and all of a sudden you are too.
The ones that you see three times a week and share mom life with. The ones that you see every few weeks and share non-mom life with. The ones that love your kids like their own and you take turns giving hugs and kisses and reprimands and 'do you need a time out's' and it's all just in stride because you know you love each other and your kids and you're doing this whole parenting thing together. When your marriage isn't doing well and they know it's OK to ask you about it. When they're stressed and life is crazy and they need to vent and you sit for 3 hours at a Mexican restaurant and just hash it out. When you can say 'Praise the Lord!' and 'life is shitty' in the same breath and they completely understand.
I have a good friend getting married, and have had multiple friends with hard marriages. I have a best friend moving away soon, and I'm still going to be here. I have friends that I am growing with, and friends that our relationships have changed over the years, as we have changed.
I have friends. Great ones. Ones that I don't know where I would be without them. Sometimes I categorize them: the Fab Five. Small Group. Moms. Far-away friends. But really? I am so, so thankful for all of them. Walking through life with people isn't something to be taken for granted, and each and every one of them is so dear to me.
So, as I lie in bed with a sudden case of some flu-like ick, I wanted to take 5 minutes away from binge-watching Parenthood to write this. Because I had a girls night with some of them last night. And MOPS with some of them this morning. And a couple of those friends at my house today, who knew it was OK to stay all afternoon even if I had to go lie down. Who knew that our home is their home and our boys are going to grow up together, wherever we live. Who have seen us at our very worst and our very best, our ugly cries and our joyous shouts.
To all my friends: I am so grateful for you.
Also, Katie, please don't leave. Thanks. :)
Thursday, January 30, 2014
On FPIES
So, my son has FPIES. (food protein induced enterocolitis syndrome: (Here's the list of foods he can't eat: animal milk or milk products, soy, corn, egg, rice, chickpeas, lentils, quinoa, pears, green beans, peas, nuts and nutmeg. And being outside triggers reactions, because some pollen is too similar to eggs. We haven't tried meat yet...too complex of proteins.) I sometimes hate talking about it because I don't want to be 'that mom'. I already feel like 'that mom' anytime we're around other people with food: 'Do you have an allergy list for your restaurant?' 'Oh, we brought our own food.' 'Can I read that label?' 'No Graham! Don't eat that!' You get the picture.
Also, I know that while it can be difficult and frustrating and emotionally taxing, that overall Graham is healthy and happy and we are so blessed. So I don't want to ever come across as 'oh we have it so hard.' We don't.
But, at the same time, I realize that 'hard' can be relative sometimes. And this is my blog, so can I share that sometimes, it IS hard? And sometimes I get angry about it? And sometimes I accept it and am grateful for it and how much we've learned? And sometimes I can't stand seeing another rash, or another vomiting episode, or finding poop in random places on the floor from so much poop, or 5 cranky days in a row because he just.doesn't.feel.good. And it breaks my heart.
Like tonight. Jim was gone for 14 hours today between work and an after-work commitment. Which were both good things, just made for a long day. And when our day ended with a child with a bad rash and a large mess that I won't go into, and I didn't know what it was from except that it was an allergic reaction to something, that I just wanted to be done with it. But then there was a boy in a bathtub with bubbles, asking to stay up and play 'for just one more minute!' and saying 'mommy pat me and sing one more song' in bed...and I'm tired and spent and melting to pieces all at the same time.
This life is not at all what I thought 'mommyhood' was. It's harder, more tiring and more mundane, all at once. (let's be honest) But it's also more full, and rich, and funny and wonderfully exhausting than I ever dreamed. I don't know what I'm doing most days, but I wouldn't trade it.
To end, some Graham quotes from today:
When I finished with our recycling: 'You all done recycling! Good job, mom.' (he's started calling me mom. Not OK.)
After giving him a sip of my black coffee: 'Mmm! That bery tasty.'
Anytime: 'I want to watch just a wittle bit of TV.'
After a long nap (first in DAYS): 'I all done seeping, mom. Mommy come pay in my room!'
Anytime I suggest doing anything other than what he is doing: 'I do dis for a feeew more minutes. I do dis first, then I do that.'
2 going on 15, seriously. I love him. I don't know what to do with him, but I love him.
Also, I know that while it can be difficult and frustrating and emotionally taxing, that overall Graham is healthy and happy and we are so blessed. So I don't want to ever come across as 'oh we have it so hard.' We don't.
But, at the same time, I realize that 'hard' can be relative sometimes. And this is my blog, so can I share that sometimes, it IS hard? And sometimes I get angry about it? And sometimes I accept it and am grateful for it and how much we've learned? And sometimes I can't stand seeing another rash, or another vomiting episode, or finding poop in random places on the floor from so much poop, or 5 cranky days in a row because he just.doesn't.feel.good. And it breaks my heart.
Like tonight. Jim was gone for 14 hours today between work and an after-work commitment. Which were both good things, just made for a long day. And when our day ended with a child with a bad rash and a large mess that I won't go into, and I didn't know what it was from except that it was an allergic reaction to something, that I just wanted to be done with it. But then there was a boy in a bathtub with bubbles, asking to stay up and play 'for just one more minute!' and saying 'mommy pat me and sing one more song' in bed...and I'm tired and spent and melting to pieces all at the same time.
This life is not at all what I thought 'mommyhood' was. It's harder, more tiring and more mundane, all at once. (let's be honest) But it's also more full, and rich, and funny and wonderfully exhausting than I ever dreamed. I don't know what I'm doing most days, but I wouldn't trade it.
To end, some Graham quotes from today:
When I finished with our recycling: 'You all done recycling! Good job, mom.' (he's started calling me mom. Not OK.)
After giving him a sip of my black coffee: 'Mmm! That bery tasty.'
Anytime: 'I want to watch just a wittle bit of TV.'
After a long nap (first in DAYS): 'I all done seeping, mom. Mommy come pay in my room!'
Anytime I suggest doing anything other than what he is doing: 'I do dis for a feeew more minutes. I do dis first, then I do that.'
2 going on 15, seriously. I love him. I don't know what to do with him, but I love him.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Starting Over
January. The time of year when you can start fresh. A clean slate, a crisp calendar, and new resolve to actually improve all of those things that you planned on improving last year. For me, it meant seriously sticking to routines.
Fresh out of the holiday merriment, and with that the complete and utter lack of any semblance of a routine, this Type-A driven person was about to lose her marbles. I enjoy the holidays just as much, if not more than, the average person; but, with children, lack of structure can drive one to insanity in the form of 20 hour road trips and teething toddlers overtired from lack of sleep and hyped up on attention from family.
I like to imagine I'm one of those free-flowing moms, who just goes wherever the wind takes us: exploring, gallivanting through fields on the side of the road...you get the picture. But what I've realized is, I like to be that type of mom if I've planned to be that type of mom. My weekly calendar will say something like: 'Thursday, Gallivant.' And then I'll feel as though I'm wild and free...I may even plan to wear a flowy dress, for effect.
So, fresh off the holiday high, like many people do, we experienced a few sad days of mourning known as 'The Holidays are Over.' Also entitled 'Where Did All the Parties Go?' 'Why Can't I Just Sit and Drink Wine?' and 'What Happened to All theBuilt-In Babysitters Family?' After about 3 days, we started to rally. We were going to get this new year started off right, dang it! And then I got the stomach flu. Like, the for real, gross, everything-you-think-about-when-you-say-the-words-'stomach-flu' flu. 2 days later, Graham had allergy testing and FPIES diagnosis. The next day, daddy got the stomach flu. 2 days later, I got a concussion.
What was that? Oh, yes. PSA: baby gates are out to kill you. Really. I was just minding my own business, holding some poop stained pants from my non-napping son, when it jumped out of nowhere and tripped me. (Nowhere actually happened to be in the door where it was supposed to be at the time, and tripping was more like 'I have short person legs'). Cue dramatic head over heels fall where I cracked my head on our hall clock. Like any wise person would do, I decided the best way for Graham and I both to move past this was to have a dance party and also lift him above my head 50 times. 2 days later I was in the ER getting a CT scan. While I was in my time of 'utter darkness' as I fondly refer to it, the next week, our overly-zealous son reached for Jim and scratched his (Jim's) cornea in 2 places. (I joked with Jim that our first routine could be weekly ER visits. He didn't find it as funny as I did.) And there's a lot of other uncertainties that are popping up, like jobs and where we're living and you know, minor life changes. (I have to pause and say we have the absolute best friends and family who we can not thank enough for caring for us for the past 2 weeks!! Seriously.)
So, here it is, January 27th, and we're kind of-sort of starting our routines. Believe it or not, 2 weeks of extreme quiet allows one to do a lot of thinking. I'll write more about that some other time, as I actually learned a lot. For now, we're starting over. New resolve. New perspective. New routines.
2014, here we come!
Fresh out of the holiday merriment, and with that the complete and utter lack of any semblance of a routine, this Type-A driven person was about to lose her marbles. I enjoy the holidays just as much, if not more than, the average person; but, with children, lack of structure can drive one to insanity in the form of 20 hour road trips and teething toddlers overtired from lack of sleep and hyped up on attention from family.
I like to imagine I'm one of those free-flowing moms, who just goes wherever the wind takes us: exploring, gallivanting through fields on the side of the road...you get the picture. But what I've realized is, I like to be that type of mom if I've planned to be that type of mom. My weekly calendar will say something like: 'Thursday, Gallivant.' And then I'll feel as though I'm wild and free...I may even plan to wear a flowy dress, for effect.
So, fresh off the holiday high, like many people do, we experienced a few sad days of mourning known as 'The Holidays are Over.' Also entitled 'Where Did All the Parties Go?' 'Why Can't I Just Sit and Drink Wine?' and 'What Happened to All the
What was that? Oh, yes. PSA: baby gates are out to kill you. Really. I was just minding my own business, holding some poop stained pants from my non-napping son, when it jumped out of nowhere and tripped me. (Nowhere actually happened to be in the door where it was supposed to be at the time, and tripping was more like 'I have short person legs'). Cue dramatic head over heels fall where I cracked my head on our hall clock. Like any wise person would do, I decided the best way for Graham and I both to move past this was to have a dance party and also lift him above my head 50 times. 2 days later I was in the ER getting a CT scan. While I was in my time of 'utter darkness' as I fondly refer to it, the next week, our overly-zealous son reached for Jim and scratched his (Jim's) cornea in 2 places. (I joked with Jim that our first routine could be weekly ER visits. He didn't find it as funny as I did.) And there's a lot of other uncertainties that are popping up, like jobs and where we're living and you know, minor life changes. (I have to pause and say we have the absolute best friends and family who we can not thank enough for caring for us for the past 2 weeks!! Seriously.)
So, here it is, January 27th, and we're kind of-sort of starting our routines. Believe it or not, 2 weeks of extreme quiet allows one to do a lot of thinking. I'll write more about that some other time, as I actually learned a lot. For now, we're starting over. New resolve. New perspective. New routines.
2014, here we come!
Thursday, December 12, 2013
This is the bread.
When Graham was about 16 months old, he had a slight toast obsession. By slight, I mean toast morning, noon and night was just fine by his standards. But there was only one kind of bread he could eat, and Whole Foods was the only place that sold it, so we would stock up on 5 loaves at a time. Every time we put it in front of him, we would ask him to thank Jesus for his food, and he would look at it and calmly say 'This is the bread.' It cracked us up every time; he was so matter of fact about it, and so excited for bread every.single.time.
It's been quite the journey with his food intolerances/allergies/general craziness, and while it's become normal life by now, there are times it strikes us just how 'different' his life is from a lot of kids'. One of these times was this past weekend at his cousin's birthday party, where Jim took this picture:
Every other child there was happily eating pizza and cupcakes; Graham, however, had pasta, black beans and sweet potatoes. And he too, was eating happily, completely oblivious to what he was 'missing'. This is a kind of common grace, and by no means from anything we as parents have done. It's a blessing that he is so content. It's also humbling. And it makes me wonder...
When he used to say 'this is the bread', I wonder if it wasn't so much a statement of generality, but possibly of acceptance. Learning that this - this bread, this life, this lot - was given to him. And not only that, but he said it when we talked about praying and thanking God for his food. 'This is the bread' was not just a statement (although it was hilarious - I really wish we had it on video) - it was an offering of thanks, thanks for what was given to him. It wasn't just a passive acceptance either. It was conscious and willful. Sometimes I wonder if he had to say it to remind himself that this is what he was given, and what he was given was good for him.
I know, I know. Far too existential and deep for a 16 month old. Regardless, it's a good lesson for me, for all of us, really. That our lives, our circumstances, hardships, outwardly 'good' things - all of them are our bread. They were given to us for our good. Maybe that's obvious, maybe it's not. But rather than just mundanely accepting 'this is my life for better or for worse', it really spurs me to be consciously thankful and aware that it's all a gift; it's all for my good - the mundane, the exceptional, the horrible, the sad, the happy, the exciting, the terrible, the sad - every moment is given.
This is the bread. Amen.
It's been quite the journey with his food intolerances/allergies/general craziness, and while it's become normal life by now, there are times it strikes us just how 'different' his life is from a lot of kids'. One of these times was this past weekend at his cousin's birthday party, where Jim took this picture:
Every other child there was happily eating pizza and cupcakes; Graham, however, had pasta, black beans and sweet potatoes. And he too, was eating happily, completely oblivious to what he was 'missing'. This is a kind of common grace, and by no means from anything we as parents have done. It's a blessing that he is so content. It's also humbling. And it makes me wonder...
When he used to say 'this is the bread', I wonder if it wasn't so much a statement of generality, but possibly of acceptance. Learning that this - this bread, this life, this lot - was given to him. And not only that, but he said it when we talked about praying and thanking God for his food. 'This is the bread' was not just a statement (although it was hilarious - I really wish we had it on video) - it was an offering of thanks, thanks for what was given to him. It wasn't just a passive acceptance either. It was conscious and willful. Sometimes I wonder if he had to say it to remind himself that this is what he was given, and what he was given was good for him.
I know, I know. Far too existential and deep for a 16 month old. Regardless, it's a good lesson for me, for all of us, really. That our lives, our circumstances, hardships, outwardly 'good' things - all of them are our bread. They were given to us for our good. Maybe that's obvious, maybe it's not. But rather than just mundanely accepting 'this is my life for better or for worse', it really spurs me to be consciously thankful and aware that it's all a gift; it's all for my good - the mundane, the exceptional, the horrible, the sad, the happy, the exciting, the terrible, the sad - every moment is given.
This is the bread. Amen.
Monday, November 4, 2013
The Yellow Tree
Autumn in Virginia. There is nothing quite like it. The year I transferred to school here I was hooked. Jim and I started dating in the fall, we got engaged in the fall; I wanted to get married in the fall but we decided 8 months was plenty long for an engagement so August it was. When I got pregnant, I was so excited that our baby was going to be born in the fall. His due date was November 1st, but I was adamant he was going to come early, during October, THE best month of the year.
October came and went and no baby. November 1, 2, 3...all the way through the 6th passed and still no baby. He finally made his grand entrance early in the morning of the 8th. I remember sitting in the hospital room the day we brought him home, exhausted, elated, weepy, excited and scared. I looked out our window and it was a picture perfect Autumn day - blustery, an odd warmth, spats of rain and leaves fluttering everywhere. That gave me a sense of calm, of knowing that my whole world may have just changed, but THE world didn't change.
Fast forward to a week later. We had one ravenous little boy on our hands and breastfeeding was far from a walk in the park. I had the baby blues big time and was in a fog. My mom was here and did a fabulous job of making sure I got outside in the sunshine every day. I'm so glad she did. We have a silver maple in our backyard, and it's always one of the last trees to turn. 2 years ago, it's like it was waiting for Graham; On Graham's one week birthday, (the 15th of November) our silver maple was in its full glory, brilliantly yellow and breathtaking.
We took a picture in front of that tree, and it's one of my favorites. You can see just how tired we are, and just how small Graham is. But you can also see hope. We had no idea how much harder the few months ahead would be, learning about a baby and severe allergies and reflux, about how a hair dryer running for 3 hours straight may be the only thing to get the screaming to stop, about how sometimes, we may need more help than we can give ourselves. What we also didn't know was the joy, the excitement and the complete and total new way of life that we would experience,;one full of firsts, of seeing the world through new eyes, of learning that fast isn't best and family is everything. Of learning to re-prioritize, to say yes to less so we could say yes to the things that really mattered. And of days full of giggles and smiles (sometimes tantrums and whining), of trains and books and tickle fights.
That yellow tree has waited for Graham's birth week the past two years; this week it's at its peak. I just stand in our dining room staring at it with a smile on my face some days. Knowing that we don't always know what lies ahead, but that our God is good, and He has plans for us we could never have dreamed if we tried. Plans that may include hard things, but plans that will bring so, so much joy.
Happy Birthday week Graham! You are treasured and loved. And now you're waking up, so I have to go. :)
October came and went and no baby. November 1, 2, 3...all the way through the 6th passed and still no baby. He finally made his grand entrance early in the morning of the 8th. I remember sitting in the hospital room the day we brought him home, exhausted, elated, weepy, excited and scared. I looked out our window and it was a picture perfect Autumn day - blustery, an odd warmth, spats of rain and leaves fluttering everywhere. That gave me a sense of calm, of knowing that my whole world may have just changed, but THE world didn't change.
Fast forward to a week later. We had one ravenous little boy on our hands and breastfeeding was far from a walk in the park. I had the baby blues big time and was in a fog. My mom was here and did a fabulous job of making sure I got outside in the sunshine every day. I'm so glad she did. We have a silver maple in our backyard, and it's always one of the last trees to turn. 2 years ago, it's like it was waiting for Graham; On Graham's one week birthday, (the 15th of November) our silver maple was in its full glory, brilliantly yellow and breathtaking.
We took a picture in front of that tree, and it's one of my favorites. You can see just how tired we are, and just how small Graham is. But you can also see hope. We had no idea how much harder the few months ahead would be, learning about a baby and severe allergies and reflux, about how a hair dryer running for 3 hours straight may be the only thing to get the screaming to stop, about how sometimes, we may need more help than we can give ourselves. What we also didn't know was the joy, the excitement and the complete and total new way of life that we would experience,;one full of firsts, of seeing the world through new eyes, of learning that fast isn't best and family is everything. Of learning to re-prioritize, to say yes to less so we could say yes to the things that really mattered. And of days full of giggles and smiles (sometimes tantrums and whining), of trains and books and tickle fights.
That yellow tree has waited for Graham's birth week the past two years; this week it's at its peak. I just stand in our dining room staring at it with a smile on my face some days. Knowing that we don't always know what lies ahead, but that our God is good, and He has plans for us we could never have dreamed if we tried. Plans that may include hard things, but plans that will bring so, so much joy.
Happy Birthday week Graham! You are treasured and loved. And now you're waking up, so I have to go. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)