a husband who is a pro at folding cloth diapers and putting baby to sleep
our sweet sleeping little girl
incredible family who pray for us every day
friends that i can still talk to for almost two hours over the phone, who rejoice with me, groan with me, and encourage me
the security that i can only credit God for creating in my choice to just focus on being a mama right now
the blessings that are yet to come, that we don't ever deserve, that God simply holds in store for us because (and I understand this better every day now) we are his children and he will always give us what we need.
__________________
it's hard to believe that ezri is almost 10 weeks old. she's 2 1/2 months... and filling out all of her sleepers and onesies with gorgeous rolls of chub. there is no more beautiful baby, i am mesmerized by her sweet smiles and little "words"... it is truly a sweet time in my life, the sweetest yet. i never knew that this was coming. there is now a part of me that can comfort the broken hearted person i was 5 years ago and rejoice in stepping into a new role that will grow and change with me every day for the rest of my life. the most challenging role i will ever play... and i am thankful for it.
1.22.2011
12.29.2010
peace and other good feelings
 |
| Rebecca Witte Photography - please do not reproduce without permission |
we've been warned - she may be placid, sweet and calm now, but just wait, her personality will change.
it might. that's okay.
but right now the most peaceful feeling i can remember encountering, ever, is watching our baby sleep... and there is nothing quite like the excitement and joy that comes over us when we see her learn to hold her head up and turn to a voice, to practice little laughs in her sleep, to smile and coo at us, to grasp my hand when she nurses ...
i want you to know, i think it's pretty great.
11.28.2010
perfect
it must be one of the oldest and newest feelings on earth - the overwhelming, breath-taking, awe-inducing love and trepidation that sweeps over a woman, and a couple, when her child breathes a first breath. i cannot imagine anything else like it.
i sit in the den, lit by the glow of our christmas tree, and marvel at the sweet soft skin and adorable squeaks (yes, squeaks) and murmurs of my daughter as she sleeps. she is 12 days old. she is perfect.
and we all arrive like this. how can anyone not be filled with love and awe at the thought of this event? how can we learn to see eachother as we were - new, pure and whole, as my mother says: closer to God? we were all there... and we all should be loved as much as our little ezri.
she will, without a doubt, grow and learn and become capable of doing things that will exasperate, bewilder, challenge and even dissapoint us. she will, without a doubt, become her own person full of her own opinions and ideas, thoughts that are unique to herself... and i may not get them all... i know that this tiny, beautiful individual will become so many things. she will always know that in my eyes she is whole and she is perfect.
i may not always succeed in communicating this to her - she may even come to believe at times that she is far from it - but all i see as i watch her sleep is all the good God has found in the two of us, all i see is what i hope He sees in us, and i have a taste of the love our Creator has and the vision He holds for us.
the nights can be long, and sleep patterns have altered drastically, i may at times feel tethered to this little thing, and there may be moments where i gladly will hand her to others who love her so i can rest... but the words to describe us right now sound like peace, contentment, awe, gratitude and perfect.
i sit in the den, lit by the glow of our christmas tree, and marvel at the sweet soft skin and adorable squeaks (yes, squeaks) and murmurs of my daughter as she sleeps. she is 12 days old. she is perfect.
and we all arrive like this. how can anyone not be filled with love and awe at the thought of this event? how can we learn to see eachother as we were - new, pure and whole, as my mother says: closer to God? we were all there... and we all should be loved as much as our little ezri.
she will, without a doubt, grow and learn and become capable of doing things that will exasperate, bewilder, challenge and even dissapoint us. she will, without a doubt, become her own person full of her own opinions and ideas, thoughts that are unique to herself... and i may not get them all... i know that this tiny, beautiful individual will become so many things. she will always know that in my eyes she is whole and she is perfect.
i may not always succeed in communicating this to her - she may even come to believe at times that she is far from it - but all i see as i watch her sleep is all the good God has found in the two of us, all i see is what i hope He sees in us, and i have a taste of the love our Creator has and the vision He holds for us.
the nights can be long, and sleep patterns have altered drastically, i may at times feel tethered to this little thing, and there may be moments where i gladly will hand her to others who love her so i can rest... but the words to describe us right now sound like peace, contentment, awe, gratitude and perfect.
10.21.2010
observations from a rapidly changing vantage point
* i am no longer "college age" and really don't understand the kids on FB these days
* going to an "organic"/"natural" baby store replete with cloth diapers and nursing covers is an exciting outing
* i am okay with not agreeing with my friends on everything political, spiritual and otherwise
* other people seem to think i'm confident and outspoken at times. huh.
* my husband gets more interesting, more attractive and more considerate every day. marrying him has been the best thing
* we will not always live where we can pick and choose where we worship, who the best choices for friendship are, or what activities we participate in
* people don't always appreciate the things you consider to be gifts shared with them. and there's not always a lot you can do about that
* i am actually becoming okay with the idea of "staying home" with my child for a while... without the guilt of "i should be using my degree and succeeding in a career"... that does not have to define me and be a measure of my worth
* i've spent 8 months carrying this beautiful child, and i can't wait to meet her. it astonishes me how much anticipation and readiness resides within my heart
* perhaps, perhaps, i am finally becoming okay with losing the girl i was at 19 because the woman i am at 28 is far more interesting and truly content
* going to an "organic"/"natural" baby store replete with cloth diapers and nursing covers is an exciting outing
* i am okay with not agreeing with my friends on everything political, spiritual and otherwise
* other people seem to think i'm confident and outspoken at times. huh.
* my husband gets more interesting, more attractive and more considerate every day. marrying him has been the best thing
* we will not always live where we can pick and choose where we worship, who the best choices for friendship are, or what activities we participate in
* people don't always appreciate the things you consider to be gifts shared with them. and there's not always a lot you can do about that
* i am actually becoming okay with the idea of "staying home" with my child for a while... without the guilt of "i should be using my degree and succeeding in a career"... that does not have to define me and be a measure of my worth
* i've spent 8 months carrying this beautiful child, and i can't wait to meet her. it astonishes me how much anticipation and readiness resides within my heart
* perhaps, perhaps, i am finally becoming okay with losing the girl i was at 19 because the woman i am at 28 is far more interesting and truly content
9.24.2010
education
next to godly living, the biggest priority and most valued achievements in my family life have been centered around education. i've said to friends before that religion and education (and religious education) are the family businesses. not that we have loads of family members infiltrating the public education system, or that we have a large percentage of hebrew scholars discussing open theology and what have you's at reunions (though that would all be very cool)... but that after or right under the central theme - god-focused life - we all have been taught (ha!) to revere learning in any state.
i told mom the other day that she has a didactic personality.
this is equal parts nature and nurture in my opinion. if you take my mother as an example, she gets her habit of constant instruction (in her wonderful, gentle nature) from her genes (thank you Loy and Donna) and from her parenting and life experiences (oh, thanks again Loy and Donna ;). and she's passed it down, with the equal participation of my father, one of the best teachers i know.
and i see it in myself - a self-described know it all with too much "trivia" in my head. i may not be constantly constructing a lesson with my daily dialogue like some of my esteemed relatives (uncle stan is one of the best in finding a way to sum up every convo - i love it), but my eyes are open and my ears pricked to any useful piece of daily info - you never know when someone might need to know about the history of crisco (did you know it was originally intended to be marketed as SOAP?) or how to get in touch with the local chamber of commerce to promote your charity of the month. i know the most random things, and they are the most remarkably useful things sometimes. i can tell you all about how to relocate to henderson tn by the way.
since "imparting wisdom" seems to be a biblical kind of thing to do, i suppose i shouldn't be surprised that it's ingrained in my life patterns. perhaps every preacher's kid and teacher's kid feels this way too.
lately, i've thought a lot about what we will teach ezri. i can see eric telling her all about world history, video games, how the us government works, and challenging her to think critically about everything she encounters, how to laugh at the slapstick of animaniacs and wit of cs lewis - he will have so many gifts to share with our little girl. the images i have in mind are of a relationship that is forged over time, like the ones i value between myself and my parents and so many of those educator-relatives (like my granma Wheat and her wonderful insights)
she'll probably get used to my political rants, my musings on being a woman in our culture and belief system, and learn to roll her eyes at my inconsistencies. i hope some of it will make sense. i hope that she learns to do what her grandma Donna always said to do when listening to someone else - to find the meat and spit out the bones.
education is part of a lifelong pursuit, a romance with knowledge and a thirst for growth. it is not a period in your life that revolves around class periods, dry tests, popularity contests and competition. it's a daily curiosity and a passion for what you have faith in. the best teachers in my life will always be mentoring me and urging me to push further... they remain with me. some of them are called instructors, by vocation, others are simply repositories of love and wisdom who have inspired me (ron and judy warpole, julie osburn, becky youngblood, chara watson... it's a long list)
and their characteristics that i will arm myself with as i forge this new relationship with the little ball of energy kicking and squirming under my ribs? patience. humility. love. honesty. fearlessness. hope. discernment. an open and listening heart.
so keep on teaching me, teachers.
i told mom the other day that she has a didactic personality.
this is equal parts nature and nurture in my opinion. if you take my mother as an example, she gets her habit of constant instruction (in her wonderful, gentle nature) from her genes (thank you Loy and Donna) and from her parenting and life experiences (oh, thanks again Loy and Donna ;). and she's passed it down, with the equal participation of my father, one of the best teachers i know.
and i see it in myself - a self-described know it all with too much "trivia" in my head. i may not be constantly constructing a lesson with my daily dialogue like some of my esteemed relatives (uncle stan is one of the best in finding a way to sum up every convo - i love it), but my eyes are open and my ears pricked to any useful piece of daily info - you never know when someone might need to know about the history of crisco (did you know it was originally intended to be marketed as SOAP?) or how to get in touch with the local chamber of commerce to promote your charity of the month. i know the most random things, and they are the most remarkably useful things sometimes. i can tell you all about how to relocate to henderson tn by the way.
since "imparting wisdom" seems to be a biblical kind of thing to do, i suppose i shouldn't be surprised that it's ingrained in my life patterns. perhaps every preacher's kid and teacher's kid feels this way too.
lately, i've thought a lot about what we will teach ezri. i can see eric telling her all about world history, video games, how the us government works, and challenging her to think critically about everything she encounters, how to laugh at the slapstick of animaniacs and wit of cs lewis - he will have so many gifts to share with our little girl. the images i have in mind are of a relationship that is forged over time, like the ones i value between myself and my parents and so many of those educator-relatives (like my granma Wheat and her wonderful insights)
she'll probably get used to my political rants, my musings on being a woman in our culture and belief system, and learn to roll her eyes at my inconsistencies. i hope some of it will make sense. i hope that she learns to do what her grandma Donna always said to do when listening to someone else - to find the meat and spit out the bones.
education is part of a lifelong pursuit, a romance with knowledge and a thirst for growth. it is not a period in your life that revolves around class periods, dry tests, popularity contests and competition. it's a daily curiosity and a passion for what you have faith in. the best teachers in my life will always be mentoring me and urging me to push further... they remain with me. some of them are called instructors, by vocation, others are simply repositories of love and wisdom who have inspired me (ron and judy warpole, julie osburn, becky youngblood, chara watson... it's a long list)
and their characteristics that i will arm myself with as i forge this new relationship with the little ball of energy kicking and squirming under my ribs? patience. humility. love. honesty. fearlessness. hope. discernment. an open and listening heart.
so keep on teaching me, teachers.
9.02.2010
unearthing an image
i know what kind of little girl i was. my mother probably wouldn't let me forget. i loved my dolls, i read, i played house and dress up incessantly. my brothers were forced to play church and house and who knows what else with me - they were pretty good sports. my imagination was endless, but like so many small children, it also centered on mimicry of daily life. so, i played the mommy. i loved on my babies and bossed my brothers like they were my babies too. fortunately, they survived just fine and now treat me with great indulgence and understanding. see, i trained them right.
there's no denying i was a "girly" (ah, stereotyping) girl. i had barbies (something i wish to avoid with ezri), i loved pink and to this day i love dressing up and dressing other people up. sure, i also played outside and loved to swim and even get messy at times, i was also pretty geeky and after a certain age went nowhere without a book. so, wanting to be a "mommy" is, or should be, a naturally deeply ingrained desire that i cannot fully articulate, right?
sure. yeah... i guess.
but there are times when i feel like i'm having to dig through layers and layers of memory, old games, toys, tea sets, books... like alice falling through the rabbit hole actually... in order to find the pictures i held so close to my heart, the ones of when i'd grow up to be a mother.
on days like the ones i've had this week, i have really searched for that image for comfort. when i feel like a ping pong ball being bounced between clinics and hospital and all the (great) staff and docs involved and i come home exhausted with less answers and more misery... i need to remember that the end result will be wonderful and deeply desired. it is.
i had a good cry on my husband's shoulder when he got home last night. i feel like everything i thought or expected of this pregnancy is screwy. my heart rate and such is off and wears me out something fierce and ridiculous, turns out it's something genetic that's been there all along... they sent me for another glucose test. i was fine with the screening, no big, but this test came at a bad time in the middle of a week where i've already had enough of medical stuff. it's just not how i expected to be pregnant.
and really, it's not all that bad. it's nothing on some experiences i know of, and nothing on the experiences of those who deal with life changing illness. it's just me, whining about a couple of simple tests. new to me, but not that bad. i know i'm in good hands and that something will be sorted... i just hate that there is something to be sorted...
when all i'd like to do is have the energy to tidy our room, and plan and dream and think of what it will be like to have this little one. and as i sit here and watch "rudy" with eric, i think about the possibility of a little boy someday too... wow. wow.
i have a lot of dear friends who made this passage what seems like ages ago... my life has been on its own timetable for a while... a little "behind the curve" from some of the girls i went to college with... and they are blossoming into these earth mothers, these incredible talents that are making art filled lives for themselves and their families.
it's an intimidating act to follow. and, i'll confess, there are just times when the idea of being absorbed by potty training, terrible twos, speech development, school choices... yeah. absorbed is the word.
i know what we want for our child... or at least, some of it... that image is getting clearer... but i don't want to lose who i am, or who we are, i want it to be the picture she holds close to her heart like we've held sweet pictures of our mothers and dads close to ours. those pictures are of whole and vibrant people that we wanted to be like. i am so glad we have them.
the reason i played "mommy" all those years ago, and loved on my sweet brothers and bossed them, and read books that filled my heart with dreams of women who had full lives, adventure and family - was i wanted to be like my mom. god provided me with the inspiration in my mother, my grandmothers, and countless others to do this.
and so, between naps and exhausting spells, my heart whispers, "i think i can... i know i can... i am... i will be little donna ezri's mother."
but just know, the mommy club is scary... anyone want to hold my hand?
there's no denying i was a "girly" (ah, stereotyping) girl. i had barbies (something i wish to avoid with ezri), i loved pink and to this day i love dressing up and dressing other people up. sure, i also played outside and loved to swim and even get messy at times, i was also pretty geeky and after a certain age went nowhere without a book. so, wanting to be a "mommy" is, or should be, a naturally deeply ingrained desire that i cannot fully articulate, right?
sure. yeah... i guess.
but there are times when i feel like i'm having to dig through layers and layers of memory, old games, toys, tea sets, books... like alice falling through the rabbit hole actually... in order to find the pictures i held so close to my heart, the ones of when i'd grow up to be a mother.
on days like the ones i've had this week, i have really searched for that image for comfort. when i feel like a ping pong ball being bounced between clinics and hospital and all the (great) staff and docs involved and i come home exhausted with less answers and more misery... i need to remember that the end result will be wonderful and deeply desired. it is.
i had a good cry on my husband's shoulder when he got home last night. i feel like everything i thought or expected of this pregnancy is screwy. my heart rate and such is off and wears me out something fierce and ridiculous, turns out it's something genetic that's been there all along... they sent me for another glucose test. i was fine with the screening, no big, but this test came at a bad time in the middle of a week where i've already had enough of medical stuff. it's just not how i expected to be pregnant.
and really, it's not all that bad. it's nothing on some experiences i know of, and nothing on the experiences of those who deal with life changing illness. it's just me, whining about a couple of simple tests. new to me, but not that bad. i know i'm in good hands and that something will be sorted... i just hate that there is something to be sorted...
when all i'd like to do is have the energy to tidy our room, and plan and dream and think of what it will be like to have this little one. and as i sit here and watch "rudy" with eric, i think about the possibility of a little boy someday too... wow. wow.
i have a lot of dear friends who made this passage what seems like ages ago... my life has been on its own timetable for a while... a little "behind the curve" from some of the girls i went to college with... and they are blossoming into these earth mothers, these incredible talents that are making art filled lives for themselves and their families.
it's an intimidating act to follow. and, i'll confess, there are just times when the idea of being absorbed by potty training, terrible twos, speech development, school choices... yeah. absorbed is the word.
i know what we want for our child... or at least, some of it... that image is getting clearer... but i don't want to lose who i am, or who we are, i want it to be the picture she holds close to her heart like we've held sweet pictures of our mothers and dads close to ours. those pictures are of whole and vibrant people that we wanted to be like. i am so glad we have them.
the reason i played "mommy" all those years ago, and loved on my sweet brothers and bossed them, and read books that filled my heart with dreams of women who had full lives, adventure and family - was i wanted to be like my mom. god provided me with the inspiration in my mother, my grandmothers, and countless others to do this.
and so, between naps and exhausting spells, my heart whispers, "i think i can... i know i can... i am... i will be little donna ezri's mother."
but just know, the mommy club is scary... anyone want to hold my hand?
8.22.2010
4:46 am
and i'm up. have been since 4 am. there's coffee in the press, and i've finished a bowl of cereal - might be time for another... i just gave in this morning. the dreams were no good, and my heart was racing because of my paranoid brain.
i am terrified of not feeling ezri move.
a month ago or so, at the check up before last with the OB, one of the sheets handed to me by the nurse was entitled "kick counts". oh, that is too cute - soon i'll be feeling her move more and more, and i can count the kicks... that's great, right?
wrong.
as my dad observed the other day to my mother when he saw this sheet, "oh great, another thing to make stefanie paranoid."
now, i love the clinic i'm going to and the two OB doctors who are overseeing me and my pregnancy. they are attentive, straightforward and generally great. the one doc took care of me during our miscarriage last year and i could not have asked for better treatment. and they're so good at mapping out what's ahead... yeah, including letting you know how much your baby should be kicking after 26 weeks' development.
10 times in an hour... if you haven't felt her move that much in an hour, they give you a formula for how long you should wait before calling the doc.
so, every time she doesn't move for a while, or really - when i don't FEEL her for a while (she may be moving, and i'm too busy taking orders, doing dishes, baking or serving coffee) - i start to quietly freak out.
it doesn't help that i have that repository of horror stories to fall back on. thanks moms. not that some of it could be helped - life happens around you, and you hear things, and you should so that you can grieve with the tellers - but, this brain of mine conjures far too often. i think it's worse with age, really i do.
so when my heart starts pounding through my skin whilst i fight off a dream about emma thompson having twin nieces in a bbc crime show, and even in my dream i have this underlying track of, "is baby moving? please God, take care of her... reassure me..." yeah. it's time to wake up, tell myself to calm down and breathe, and take care of the gnawing pregnancy hunger... and then she squirms, and punches, and i allow myself to calm down a little.
and i know that the rest of my life will be like this. holding my breath every time the bad stuff passes us by, praying that my little girl will be spared whatever evil i see, and knowing that eventually she will let us know, "i'm okay, i've got this."
because, she's our baby, and that's what she'll do.
and maybe now i'll be able to dream about that instead.
i am terrified of not feeling ezri move.
a month ago or so, at the check up before last with the OB, one of the sheets handed to me by the nurse was entitled "kick counts". oh, that is too cute - soon i'll be feeling her move more and more, and i can count the kicks... that's great, right?
wrong.
as my dad observed the other day to my mother when he saw this sheet, "oh great, another thing to make stefanie paranoid."
now, i love the clinic i'm going to and the two OB doctors who are overseeing me and my pregnancy. they are attentive, straightforward and generally great. the one doc took care of me during our miscarriage last year and i could not have asked for better treatment. and they're so good at mapping out what's ahead... yeah, including letting you know how much your baby should be kicking after 26 weeks' development.
10 times in an hour... if you haven't felt her move that much in an hour, they give you a formula for how long you should wait before calling the doc.
so, every time she doesn't move for a while, or really - when i don't FEEL her for a while (she may be moving, and i'm too busy taking orders, doing dishes, baking or serving coffee) - i start to quietly freak out.
it doesn't help that i have that repository of horror stories to fall back on. thanks moms. not that some of it could be helped - life happens around you, and you hear things, and you should so that you can grieve with the tellers - but, this brain of mine conjures far too often. i think it's worse with age, really i do.
so when my heart starts pounding through my skin whilst i fight off a dream about emma thompson having twin nieces in a bbc crime show, and even in my dream i have this underlying track of, "is baby moving? please God, take care of her... reassure me..." yeah. it's time to wake up, tell myself to calm down and breathe, and take care of the gnawing pregnancy hunger... and then she squirms, and punches, and i allow myself to calm down a little.
and i know that the rest of my life will be like this. holding my breath every time the bad stuff passes us by, praying that my little girl will be spared whatever evil i see, and knowing that eventually she will let us know, "i'm okay, i've got this."
because, she's our baby, and that's what she'll do.
and maybe now i'll be able to dream about that instead.
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