Anticipation

I'll be honest, I've had mixed emotions this entire pregnancy.  I've WANTED the baby the whole time, I've just also been scared witless and hugely anxious since before the test even came back positive.  Now, heading into 35 weeks, I'm just really, really excited.

Ever since my dear friend (and two acquaintances at the same time) lost their sons at about 20-24 weeks gestation, I've been terrified of being pregnant.  And having a boy.  And everything else that's even remotely similar about our situations (age, geographic location, etc).  Every pain, twinge, discomfort, new sensation, would send me into a whirlwind of anxiety and fear.  Not because I was afraid of experiencing the pain of loss; I've been there before with my dad (though I know it's not the same thing).  I don't know why.  But an amazingly Godly woman pointed out that being anxious about the "what if's" robs the certainties of their strength and joy.  I am not certain that this pregnancy will play out like a fairy tale, but I am certain that I have an amazing husband and two-and-a-half-year-old who love and rely on me to be in the present moment with all of myself.  Just in this moment, God reminded me of many things:

• I am loved by Him and held tight in His promises.  This does not mean I will not endure great suffering, but it does mean I will not endure suffering alone and without support unless I choose that idiotic route.
• Babies (and kids and adults) die.  Knowing this reality has caused alternating anxiety and appreciation for the time we're given on Earth together.  The anxiety is sinful, and the appreciation glorifies the God who has given us this time as a gift to steward well.
• Being anxious and fearful robs me of my strength and joy and creates an ugliness that I can only blame on myself.  I don't want to blame that on myself, so I will choose joy.  Over and over and over, because the alternative SUCKS.
• Anxiety and depression during pregnancy are NORMAL, often caused by hormones, and I need to allow myself grace...but not excuses.  I need to assess every moment when I am feeling down and ask God to help me out of it.
• Every baby is a blessing, even the ones we don't get to keep.  They just get to be a blessing to the God who created them, and be in His presence more than ours (physically).  We still get to meet them, and spend eternity with them praising God, and I am grateful beyond words for that promise.

Now, I am choosing anticipation and excitement over anxiety.  There are still a million things that could go wrong, but God is in control of all of them and He can (and will) use everything for His glory and our good.  That is something I can rest in during the dark days.  That is a source of deep, profound joy.

Grief

How do you express in words the pain of sharing another's grief, coupled with the admiration for their strength and vulnerability during the shittiest time of their life?  How do you give them the space they need, and the support and love you long to show, when they hate you so much for the blessings you have that they were denied?  There is no easy answer, and the love lost is almost too painful to bear.  I can only pray that time will heal our relationship while it heals the hurt in my dear friend's heart.

I can honestly say that while I don't know exactly how she feels, I do have some understanding from my own experience, and I love and respect her despite her bitterness toward me.  I know what it is to lose someone you love so very dearly, and to have the people around you constantly remind you of your loss in flippant, seemingly unsympathetic ways.  When I lost my dad so suddenly, every time I saw a girl with her dad, no matter their ages, it ripped to me to my core.  It still does, often.  Holidays are especially hard, and while it helps to focus on my husband as the daddy on Father's Day, there's a hole where my dad, Mimi's Grandpa, was supposed to be.  And I am so sensitive to situations in which someone complains about their dad; I just want to smack them upside the head and tell them to appreciate the gift that their father is, even if he is not the best dad in the world.  Appreciate him, because you're going to lose him, and no one can replace him.  Respect him, in word and deed, and show him the love he needs, whether he deserves it or no.  Losing my dad has helped me appreciate the relationships I have with my family, both blood and Blood, and I want to cherish those relationships with all that I have.  Yes, I still struggle, because people really piss me off sometimes, but this newfound perspective has caused a profound shift in the way I love others that has helped me see God's love for them, and His love for me.  Yes, I still have moments of deep, despairing depression, usually triggered by someone losing a loved one.  It's still so fresh, and so painful.  Four years is NOTHING when you lose someone you love.  Time can smooth the edges, but it's still raw and ragged in the heart.

I can't sympathize completely with my friend, but I can sympathize.  I can't share her pain, but I can understand her anger and bitterness fueled by that pain.  I can be patient with her, and understand that she'll never heal from this, not completely.  And I can also be wounded by her anger and bitterness directed at me for living the life that she was denied.  I can also live with the anxiety and fear her experience creates in me, the knowledge that I am in no way safe from re-living what she is going through for myself.  I can choose to trust in Jesus and His plan for our family over the fear that her experience daily brings out in me.  I can choose to shut her, and her negativity, out for right now, while still praying for her and loving her from a much greater distance than I would like.  I have to, for the sake of my own emotional well-being, even though it sucks.  I can't go around feeling guilty for living the life that God has given me, for having the blessings that I have.  There is no guilt there to be had that isn't inflicted by the pain and grief of another person.  I don't expect other people to feel guilty that their dads are still alive and well.  I expect them to appreciate what they have, and hold their loved ones close.  Our time down here is just too damn short to be full of hate, bitterness, guilt, fear, and anxiety.  I love and respect my friend so dearly, and I hold no animosity toward her whatsoever about what she is feeling about me.  She is allowed to have her feelings, to express them however she wants, and I am allowed to let them hurt me, or not.

There is healing to be had, and I pray for my friend to find her healing in the God who made her, and who holds her baby boy in His hands.  I am excited to see her son in heaven, to have him show me around, to introduce me to his friends and his God.  I'll wait on Jesus' timing for that day to come, but it makes me smile to know that it WILL come.  I just wish I could know if my dad would be there, too.

Expectation

In expectation of His good provision
I wait, and close my eyes against the early autumn sun,
Inhaling apples, dry summer grass,
The first bite of crisp coolness,
Exhaling impatience into the sky.

I breathe deeply, filling my belly
With this last fling of sunshine before the rains return,
Expanding my ribcage,
And holding each breath down to my anklebones,
Knowing it must be released into winter.

I stretch one last summer stretch
Toward the south-drifting sun,
Preparing to curl my spine around my middle,
Ready to hibernate, pale and warm,
Waiting for spring and rebirth.

For in this spring to come, in expectation
Of His good provision, His perfect plan,
Renewing covenant, retelling story,
I will see His grace breathed out in breath upon breath,
Shining through His people Israel.

Life, into death, into life again.

Motherhood

I am so full.  Full of gratitude for this life I lead.  Full of the sweetness of baby giggles and kisses and single-word-exchange conversations.  Full of love for my sweet husband.  Full of cheesecake my sweet husband encouraged me to eat in honor of mother's day.  Just full.  But I won't burst; he helped me with the cheesecake.

I wore shoes today I haven't worn since before Mikaelin, which got me to reminiscing.  This time 7 years ago I was celebrating Mother's Day by graduating from college.  This time two years ago, we were going on our babymoon.  This time last year we dedicated our baby to the Lord.  This time next year?

Life is good.  80-degree May days full of lilac breezes and rhubarb evenings.  Community that's more like family than family.  Watching the Mikaelin Channel on the video monitor while she sleeps.  Crayon blue skies and minor home demolition projects.  Planning for the future, full of hope.  Gratitude and hope.

Genius

It's normal to think your child is a genius, right?  At least the first one?  Because we do.  Mikaelin is picking up words and associations left and right, and can say her entire alphabet when prompted letter by letter.  She can even recognize some numbers and is making connections on her own.  She's repeating nearly everything we say.  She's awesome.  And we need to start seriously devoting some cash to her college fund.

Sometimes I try to picture her as an adult.  It's kind of fun.  I would love for her to stay my tiny newborn forever, but that season's already come and gone, so instead I picture her once she's out of the toddler years and able to use logic and reason...you know, when she's in her 30s.  Not that I don't "treasure every minute;" I totally lock them in my heart to use as sentimental blackmail when she's a teenager.  I'm just so excited to see what God has for her life.  I love what God has called me to in this short span of years, and I pray that my daughter would experience such fulfillment someday.  I love my sweet girl, and am so grateful for the time that God has given me to care for her.

Crisp

This is my very favorite time of year.  This is the first time, however, that it's really snuck up on me.  My mind must have been occupied with other things.

Tomorrow I turn 29 for the first time.  Today, I revel in the warm, yet crisp, autumn air and admire the vividness of the change of season.  Autumn never sneaks up on the trees; they're never too busy to savor the shift in proximity to the sun.  The flora has an unhindered generosity in its willingness to slap us in the face with stunning hues that scream, "Pay attention!  The world is turning, and your Facebook friend count is really unimportant!  Come outside and play!"  Vibrant against a slate-grey sky, illuminated by the setting sun, Thomas Kincaid would weep at the inadequacy of his brushstrokes to capture God's perfect autumnal neon signs.  The air smells like pumpkins and caramel apples, macaroni and cheese and birthday shopping with Grandma.  The world looks like one last hurrah before winter.

It may be a symptom of my impending 30s, but it feels like time is gaining momentum.  What was a series of snapshots has become a timelapse, and I want to extend my gratitude to the trees for reminding me to stop and inhale the moment.  Lord, you do create unfathomable beauty.

Chronology

I recently found some time to upload all of my old digital photos from a long-dead computer onto the present computer, and was actually able to indulge and look through all of them.  ALL of them.  Some of those photos were from my first year of college, some from more recently, and all brought back a ton of memories.  I thought I would post a few, and the memories that go along with them.

 From my senior year ballroom dance performance.  I love dancing, and I love this guy.  He's getting married soon, and I'm so happy for him!

 At our college library, in the courtyard.  I just finished showing my mom the display I had made for the Slocum Award competition: a 2-case collection of Pirate books and objects.  It was pretty amazing, and afterwards my mom and I took silly pictures together.

 August 19, 2006.  I had my B'nei Mitzvah and became "fully Jewish" in the eyes of the Reform Jewish community.  I worked on it for about 6 months, which is about 1/4 of the time it normally takes. Granted, I was 23, not 13, but still.

 Sophomore year of college my girlfriends and I lived in a house together off campus.  We threw a Halloween/birthday party (3/4 of us had birthdays right around Halloween) and we dressed as Earth, Fire, Water and Air (from left-right).  It was an amazing night.

 My best friends from college.  We went to Disneyland a lot.  I was always the short one.  I miss them daily.

 My favorite shot from my trip to Israel.  We had just climbed to the top of Masada to watch the sun rise over the Dead Sea.  It was an amazing, unparalleled, unforgettable trip.

 My college girlfriends and I loved dressing up and would seek out occasions so that we could indulge. Sometimes we just made stuff up.  I don't remember what this was for, but I know we had a great time and looked fabulous.

 Our Senior Trip to Las Vegas.  Elyse made us all these avatars based on a comic Kaitie and I drew in Biology class, so I turned them into shirts.  I seriously miss those girls.

One year, for Halloween, we went as Barbies.  We had, from left-right, Wedding Day Barbie, Fairy Princess Barbie, Businesswoman Barbie, Rockstar Barbie, and Glamour Barbie.  I think we won the costume contest for group costume.

 At one of the many tea parties I've thrown over the years.  This must have been an early one, maybe 2002?  I've lost track...I've been doing it for 11 years now!

 During my study abroad in England, I joined the York Dancesport team.  I danced a Quickstep and got to dress like Belle.

 After study abroad, I went backpacking around Europe on my own.  I had a great time, but I would never let my daughter do this.  Venice was my favorite spot.

 Liz was studying in St Andrews when I was at York, so we did some traveling together.  I think we're in London on this one.

 One of my favorite things about being in Europe (besides the food), was the museums.  I went to every museum I could afford to get into.

 My pup, Zoe, up at my favorite place in all the world: our family home (the cabin) on Whidbey Island.

 I think this was the first tea party.

 We used to go out dancing/clubbing on a pretty regular basis.  This was in 2005 I think, for someone's birthday (June's maybe?).

We've been friends for a loooong time; longer than we've NOT been friends!  My grandma took us out to tea on the terrace of the Moana Surfrider in Waikiki.

I've never been good at putting pictures into albums, but it seems like such a waste for them to just sit on the computer.  I have thousands more, so many of which have stories that make me laugh and cry and miss and grateful.  There are some pictures that I probably wouldn't want my kids to see, but nothing I'd ever hide from them because the person I am today is a result of all of the events of those photos, and the person I am today is well loved.  The person I am today is the person I always hoped I would be.  I just didn't know it.