Three months and two days. I've been a mom since May 8th, 2021 2:22 in the morning.
We woke up Thursday morning (May 6th) and heading to close on our house that we had been trying to buy for such a long time. Three hours later--and a horribly tense closing it was-- we walked into our new home! It was ours. Our wonderful, lovely, weed-smelling, grimy floored, popcorn sealing, house. A project waiting to happen, but a blessing that came right in the nick of time. 2 hours later (5 pm) we showed up to the hospital for a induction that I had not planned for when I first became pregnant. I arrived at only 1 centimeter and 60 percent effaced(still don't get what that means exactly). They started me on Cytotec that night to soften my cervix, hopefully calling my body to "get a move on it." At 3 am, the next morning, after NO sleep and minimal contractions, the nurses started me on Pitocin (in other words, force ya body into the laborz). I hate that word "force." I must've been only 3 centimeters by noon (May 7). I was already exhausted. I had no sleep on my side, no pain meds, no close-end in sight. I had already told Daniel once (or twice) that I wanted an epidural. He responded very daringly with a, "I'm gonna hold you to a 'no epidural' because you will be mad at yourself if I let you." Bold move, babe. The cervical checks were going HORRIBLY. I tell ya, those hurt more than the actual contraction from what I remember. They were unbearable! Especially considering I was barely dilated! Ugh! I'm cringing right now just thinking about it. At one point (or a few..), I had just been checked, I was only 3-4 cm, and I just sobbed in Daniel's arms. I was so ready to be done. It had already been about 20 hours of this crap and I still wasn't even in active labor. I thought in that moment that my water had just broke because of a gushing feeling "down-below." Props to Daniel for being very calm and collected in this moment, as he very cooly walked out to tell the nurses that I was gushing a lot of blood. (I had no idea he was telling them this. I thought finally, my water broke!) They came in and told me it was blood and not my water and that it could've been from the cervical check. Though I don't remember everything they said right then, that still doesn't seem like the correct reason considering how much I was loosing. Either way, the day went on. I was trying to keep my head up for as long as I could so that I could try to labor in the tub for a bit. They had originally told us that I would have a shower to labor with, but we quickly found that our room only had a bath.. bleh. Moving on, contractions getting harder and harder, I was checked and just shy of 5 cm (active labor which would allow me to get in the tub!). My nurse, Amelia, was so sweet and saw my tired faces and eyes and got that tub set up for me anyway. I know sometimes nurses can get a bad rep, but God put those girls there for me that day and they were some of the best parts. They gave me such hope and encouragement. Amelia and my midwife, Allison, had made me feel cared for, like a mom would care for their baby. They, at the same time, were there for me as a friend would be, braiding my hair in the tub and holding my hands through contractions. The tub seemed to be my saving grace for a moment. At one point, I thought that I might be able to keep going. But then those sweet, sweet contractions missed me too much and quickly made their way back to maximum strength and I was just at my end. I hadn't slept since Thursday. I had cried most of the day. Daniel was exhausted from seeing me so torn up. So I looked at him and told him, "I want an epidural. I am so exhausted. I want to be able to do this, but at the same time, I don't want to try anymore. I've done what I can." He looked at me with such relief at that point, I felt like the was no shame on my shoulders and like I had someone fighting with me. And with NO shame on myself, at 28-29 hours, I got the good stuff and took a 30 minute nap. It was sunset. The room was golden. I had cried tears of joy and rest. Daniel was beginning to write a song and my heart had some hope given to it. I shortly woke up to feeling contractions on my left side. No idea why.. They gave me something to help. Soon after that, around midnight, I slowly started to feel major contractions and pressure. My nurse kinda said she will try to find my midwife to get a check up soon. But that was taking too long! I told Daniel, "babe, this has gotta be it. It feels like a human is trying to get out of my body!!! Go get someone now!" Allison came into the room and checked my cervix. In here incredibly angel-like sweet voice she said, "Clara! There is no cervix there! Are you ready to have a baby?" And before I knew it, my epidural was fixed, I was up on the bed, legs spread, five people in front of me, and had NO care about it. Pushing took FOREVER!! This little girl decided to not break my water and so we had her in the sack! That took an extra 45 minutes of pushing, but two hours later, I found my husband and I wrapped up into the beautiful eyes of the little universe on my chest. Woah. How did that happen, God? How did that just happen? Though there be some slight complications afterwards, the rest is truly history. I held my baby girl that next morning, in the mother-baby unit, on May 8, 2021, the day before Mother's Day. That is something I'll never forget. So here we are, three months later. I am in the living room of our house, curled up in my orange recliner, writing to no one about just another birth story. And regardless if anybody reads this or not, my life is being changed every single moment. I feel the weight of another tiny person on my heart, ALL THE TIME, physically and emotionally. She is my best friend. And my creation and my world and hope and joy and smile and tears and my dream. She is this tiny thing that I have a front row seat in to seeing her grow. I have all the fears in the world about her, as well as, all the belief that she was born on purpose. That God picked her, and picked me. My heart shakes right now. I don't know if that's the coffee I just drank too late in the night or if it's the thought of responsibility I now have in my hands. Whatever it is, I solute every mom out there. Above any career and thing to do, being a mom is one of the most important job in history.
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Here's to the home stretch...
The last 2 weeks have been so much information and rethinking our plans. I'm pretty much at a "just trudging through" mindset at this point. Our plan was to close tomorrow, April 30th. But for some reason, the judge who needed to sign off on our house before it was passed to RD didn't sign it the day he was suppose to. Daniel was calling people for a solid hour before he'd done all he can to see if somehow we could get in touch with that judge to sign off on our case first thing the next morning. Just because we try the hardest for something doesn't mean it will turn out that way. I'm not looking to be negative Nancy, but that honestly been a lesson I believe God has been teaching us through these past ten days or so. Our SECOND closing date has been changed to a third now. That is assuming that my little baby doesn't make an early arrival. That's another thing. This last Monday, the same day we got word about the house being pushed further out (until Thursday, May 6th), we got results from an ultrasound that showed our baby Joey was having some growth restrictions. Average to healthy babies are in the 10%-90%. She is 6%. It was pretty hard to hear all of this. I'm glad my mom decided to come along for the unexpected ultrasound. I remember a few key words: "risk of still birth," "have to induce between now and next week," and "she is about 5 weeks behind in growth." Though I didn't want to cry, I just about did. We hoped in the car. I breathed it all in for a few moments and drove back home. My mind has been a total jumble in the last couple days, my to-do lists are even including 'shower,' 'trim fingernails,' and other silly little tasks I'm having a hard time remembering. I cannot wrap my mind around all that is happening right now, leaving me with "one thing at a time" being my new motto. We've come to today though. Our house update: We will close the morning of Thursday, May 6th and I will start inducing that night at 5. They agreed to an early move in for this Saturday, we just can't do any changing or damaging of the property. But we can live in it! We can set up rooms and even sleep there. All of our other plans will have to be handed off to our community after we close on the house next week. God has been teaching us so, so much. There has been a few times of aggravation and just crying. We wonder what the heck is God trying to teach us. Like why is all of this necessary to teach patience or trust? But then I'm stopped and reminded how present God is. How often, when things don't go as planned or as I'd hoped, I end up feeling like God has left me or is trying to punish or discipline me? So often. Maybe there I beauty in the simplicity of accepting and believing with my whole heart that god is so very present. Regardless of how the world happens or how circumstances turn out, He is ever present. He's not waiting for us to get to the other side. Or even sending us off with no kind of guidance or rest in where we our or what to do next. He is right here. Right with us. Right with me and with Joey. In that is such a big yet simple lesson. I'm anxious about being induced. I'm anxious to meet her at the same time. My nerves have become more surfaced as I think about the pain of labor and getting her here to us. I nervous I will let my self and my plans down. But at the same time, God is teaching me grace. On myself, on my husband and my baby, on my circumstances, on my parents, our realtor, and on my midwives and people at the hospital. And I'm so thankful!! My last day of work was the most recent Friday. It hasn't exactly hit me yet that I don't have to work for a while, let alone, this week.
If I'm being honest, this past week was a difficult one on my heart. The closing date of my house ended up being pushed further out for another two weeks. There is less than three till Jo is suppose to be here, if not sooner. The new closing date will give us only 4 days to move everything we own out of storage as that is also on a time crunch. If that all ends up getting done, and some how magically we get the house painted, doors replaced, and fence repaired, we then have only 4 more days until my due date. Got all that news on Monday.. Tuesday, my birthday, was an odd bittersweet vibe. The night before my husband had planned a getaway night across the lake at an Airbnb we hadn't been to yet. It was so thoughtful of him to do that. Although I was entirely bummed and slightly (or enormously) worried about everything at that point, I tried really hard to put all of that aside so I can be present and see all the good things I am thankful for, like a husband who carved out a special night for me. If you don't know me or have not taking a step into my ridiculously cluttered and chaotic brain, you should know that my name is Expectations. Unrealistic Expectations, that is. I am the type of person that will think about her birthday the entire year, planning other peoples surprise parties, hoping they will catch on that I would love the same type of special treatment. Only to not mention the day itself in the weeks leading up to it, thinking that someone will end up forgetting it's my birthday and try to make it up to me. Either that, or I won't say anything about it in hopes that my expectations won't get let down for the gagillionth time. fads As selfish as all of that sounds....well, it is. It is selfish. I've learned it to be a basic Type 2 characteristic. The feeling of all of the house stuff plus all of the Type 2 type of thoughts made my birthday have more tears and emotions than I'd like to say. The day after that, Wednesday, Daniel and the boy left for Nashville. Being a short trip, they would be back Saturday. This same weekend, everybody else in the community left. All the girls, friends, and even acquaintances I thought of to hang out with were gone. I found myself wanting to escape and leave and run away, though I ended up soaking my pillow in the room with my dogs, door shut. Dramatic right? Maybe it was the extra hormones, maybe it was Daniel leaving and I'm more clingy than I think, or maybe it was everything with my relationship with my family and myself going on that made this week hard. God listened to me though. I switched from writing out my prayers to speaking to Him out loud this week. I didn't pretend I wasn't worried or that I was trying to not be worried. I just told Him plainly that I am worried. You really didn't need to know anything about my week or emotions or some of my heart's sin. Oh well.. With no paid work time in the seeable future, I am left with the question that has sat on the back burner of my mind for quite a while now: Who the heck am I? I couldn't sleep last night. Part of it was me hoping for my guy to turn over in bed and just hold me, tend to my soul, and say all the right things. Part most of it was maybe because I was stuck with that question: who am I? I got up and left around 10 pm. Feeling lonely, I jumped in the car and headed to nowhere. The feeling of my 19th and 20th year came to be. Late night drives. Music blaring. Screaming just to scream. Every corner I passed seemed to have a memory waving me down. The porch I first kissed Daniel at, the levee I spent soooo many hours at with friends drinking beer, talking life and watching the unmoving city lights across the river. I passed the corner I met a stranger on, the coffee shop I would people watch at until 2 am on Oak Street, and even the football stadium where I watched my brother play his games in high school. I remembered conversations in the car with a friend passing the row of swarming oak trees, the walks I took into the park, even the places a patroller caught my husband and I smooching after park hours. I'm becoming a mom. I'm about to have a little person attached to my name (more than that) for the rest of my life. For some reason, facing the question "who I am?" has got me kind of nervous. What if I'm not good enough for her? What if I act too much like a kid? What if this is going to be the hardest season I go through? Am I ready? What if I get into this mom thing and start to feel mundane? What are the things that made me who I was before all of this was even a thought? What things made me thrive? Hoping for a well timed plan from God that allows me to pick something other than stress and anger, I think regardless, I'll be just fine. I'm anxious to meet you Josephine. And to re-meet me too. Four more weeks.
Just four more weeks. Soon I will be a mom. I will be holding my mark on the earth. I will be holding my little girl. I'm gonna be honest, though this pregnancy has physically been a breeze, it has been a super difficult season of life. There was so many times I felt like my world was caving in and breaking. Maybe it was. Maybe it still is. But I have come to a hand full of conclusions, that have kind of began changing me entirely. What better season to experience change than that, right before an incredibly new season of parenting? One day, a customer from the coffee shop told me here advice on motherhood. She was beaming with a smile and energy that seemed like that kind that was contagious when she walks into a room. Her little 17 month old boy was sitting in the back seat of her car, calmly observing me, blank stare, slightly judgmental look on his face. So honest and not pretending. Kids are so real. She told me, "You are the best mom for your kid. So hang tight to your mommy instincts." This was a new one for me. I have had many caring and sometimes ignorant opinions given to me, whether I ask or not. I've noticed this is something I should expect in every stage of life, especially the big land mark moments (engaged, married, house buying, getting pregnant, having a kid, going to school, etc...) She affirmed me though without even knowing who I am or what I was about. Be confident if I believe in something, especially if it is something I love and care for. That tiny piece of good words gave me a strong feeling of equipment. Her words made me believe in myself. Around the same time, my best friend and I decided that we get offended easily and might care to please people just too much. Here I am, people pleaser, nice to meet you. Even the SLIGHTEST look of disagreement could send some of my deepest soul roots to my minds board of directors for questioning. If my parents were to have told me they didn't like the man I was in love with, convinced or not, I would most likely talk myself out of him. Crazy right? Even if God were to have the most incredible train for me to hop on, I would compare that step with those around me. Would they think I'm crazy? What if it doesn't work? What if I'm not good enough? What if this isn't God speaking to me? Regardless of my struggle, we identified it and began calling it out of the place it thought it had in our lives. If you are a person like me, in need of affirmation and encouragement in your actions or beliefs towards life, I would strongly recommend a best friend. She is the buckle to my belt sometimes, holding me together with her loving words and hopefulness. The only actions we took to change this about ourselves was "just stop." We need to just stop putting our feelings down deeper instead of sharing them with the people we disagree with. Now, don't get me wrong, there are plenty of times I still need to hold my tongue, but honestly, it is easier for me to do that than share what I believe is right or worth fighting for. So to hear this fellow mom-club-member affirm me in my "mommy instincts," I felt like that might be the biggest struggle of change to get use to once baby girl is born. Even now, preparing for her arrival, that standing on what I believe is being put to the test. I am me for a reason. I am a mom for a reason. I am a wife for a reason. I am a person for a reason. Coming into the freedom of being okay with my feelings, hurtful or happy or heavy or feathery, has been so liberating. I sometimes feel like a new person. That's even without expressing them to the people I do life with. It has been incredibly difficult and uncomfortable to say my thought out loud, with lingering possibilities of offending, hurting, disagreeing, or making the next fellow angry with me. My goal in life is not at all to tear people apart or want to see them in a puddle of tears on the floor, though I find my words can be powerful enough to do that. So I've proceeded with caution. One thing I've seen God do continuously is present an opportunity. And taking it usually involves a racing heart, flushed face, and sweaty palms. But I've found that taking those opportunities has deepened my perspective on people and life and relationships. Though I ache for any hurt her heart will hold, I am so excited for Joey to feel that. To experience the weight of life and newness and deepening and refining. To think that she is a person, with a heart and a soul and mind, capable of more than I can hope for, already claimed the God I am getting to know.. ........ Those mommy instincts suddenly become all the more important in my eyes. I'm nine months pregnant right now. I feel like I should be 6 months. I'm not really experiencing too many symptoms or aches. Time is flying. I'm intending a natural birth with the midwives from the local birthing center. Though I know nothing about what to expect, I am trusting that God's gonna guide me through some how. I'm practicing training my mind for battle (or what feel like it.) I'm falling more in love with my husband. We are closing on a house in a week, with renovations to follow. Life is just incredible in this moment. With so much good and ugly to go around, I'm so thankful. I work at a coffee shop, much loved by the surrounding people of St. Bernard Parish. Lately, I've had what feels like, long shifts.. 7-8 hours. I felt like the third trimester actually began on the day it was suppose to. Nausea, dizziness, achy back, nose bleeds, etc. How neat is that?
Yesterday, I looked up at my co-worker (fellow mom) and said, "My ankles are swelling!" with a big smile on my face. She was definitely thrown off by my expression, but I just couldn't help but think, "it's happening!!! We are getting closer to meeting Joey!" So, with a could swollen ankles and what feels like a bladder 1/4 of its normal size, I come to you with joy. Joy for tomorrow and extreme anticipation for meeting this sweet little girl. Last night, I sat with the laptop balancing on my belly. After a few kicks, Joey kicked my laptop off of my belly! I'm not kicking! You'd think somebody was trapped in their against their will! But she doesn't know that she's "trapped" right? Haha! I keep feeling her move and can't keep from the countless thoughts. If she's anything like me, she dreams nearly 24/7. Thinking about what could happen, places she wants to go, people to meet, and new things to experience! Over time, since I continue to age and grow more aware of responsibilities, I sometimes lose that part of myself. The part that dreams relentlessly, without ceasing. My sweet husband asked me yesterday that if I could have it a certain way, what would be my ideal lifestyle? Seems like a selfish question honestly. That was my first thought. When I began thinking about it, it was actually hard to think of how I would want life to look like. I wouldn't want to live with no problems for learning, I wouldn't want my husband to work a 9-5 job and feel unfulfilled. I wouldn't want perfect kids or perfect dogs or a routine to count on everyday. I remembered that a huge part of me was centered around today, and that was it. In many ways, I see how that can be a negative mindset. Having a creeping feeling of fear on my shoulder, not expecting for tomorrow to happen, leaving myself subconsciously asking "why even plan or dream up a future." I want to challenge her, encourage her even, to dream big. To look for what she loves and what sets her soul ablaze and I want to run with her after that. Our Family Manifesto, here it is:
Together, we create beauty and seek to bring life into the world. We stay true and present. We look for God in everything. We work hard when it's needed. We practice patience while finding hope. We have a mind of awareness and gratitude. We explore and we laugh a lot. We forgive and show kindness. And together, we try to find who we were created to be. I sat up in the morning this past week, slept in. We were "exposed" to Covid-19 so no work for me. Honestly, I was basking in the bunch of sleep and extra time. I'm coming to an end of my second trimester and it's still as surreal as ever to say that. My body aches more, my eyes want a daily nap around 11am, and I am finding a lack of energy and motivation for about everything right now. There's a few moments and spurts of inspiration and that "nesting" spirit everybody was telling me about, but that's it. Haven't experienced much of that actually. I have found that I haven't had an urge to sort, buy, and make things for Sweet Josephine-prep, probably because I haven't had a house of my own to create and think about that in. I am anxious to have my own home again. Space of our own, more than a room we share with two of the most aggravating and cutest dogs. Side note: Billie and Cedar (our doggos) decided to once and for all end the life of their bed today. Balls of cotton and fluff everywhere. I don't know why or how that made sense, but they did. So I got home from work and wanted to cry because of how stinky and furry it would be to bend down and clean it up. Regardless, it was taken care of...after my nap. Don't judge my emotions... haha. Emotions and hormones are more present than I seem to be nowadays. I'm not complaining. This has been a pretty decent pregnancy. Thought I'd be fetal position on the floor by now, in nausea and hunger. But nope, not me. Although, I had noticed a spike in the amount of times I cried this week at every, single, movie I watched. I'm not even kidding. I just want to cry. All the time. And balancing that with my want to sometimes rip off my husbands head... Lord, help me. Y'all, my husband has been so sweet to me in this season of life. If it were to come to me wanting to rip his head off, I honestly think he would let me. He has worked so, so hard at finding us a home. Not just so that he could be out of his in-laws house, which he has handled very well I do believe, (Mom, Dad, we are ABSOLUTELY GRATEFUL though)...But he is searching so diligently to find a home that I can create in and experiment in and rest in and make special for our family. I truly cannot express enough gratitude for his sweet heart and hands. He listens to my cries and holds me when I lay back down in bed at night after my routine 3am pee. He grabs my phone when I've dropped it for the thousandth time, even though I am just one reach away from getting it myself. He did not make me feel like a oompa-loompa when I order 3 fully dressed burgers, a sweet tea, and a chocolate shake all for my self the other day. Oh my goodness, and bless his heart, he has not blamed me one bit for the most gnarly smells that have come out of my bee-hind these past two weeks. I mean, the worst smells I have ever smelled. I'll admit, I'm not super ashamed by normal bodily functions and sounds and I definitely come from a "fart-contest" family, but these...these smells... I am ashamed. If anything has made me nauseous this pregnancy, it be...myself. Anyway.. moving onto a "sweeter" topic, my baby girl is growing and moving. Ya know, I thought I would be glad that I am this small and about 7 months pregnant. But honestly, I kind a don't like it when people tell me that I don't even look pregnant. Or it just flames a little fury in me for about 3 seconds. I don't know.. I'm not the kind of person to worry about whether my body is in a healthy state or not compared to what others look like or act like. But for some reason, sometimes, I wonder if she is growing alright and fast enough and that everything is going smoothly. But I definitely have been using that assurance my midwife gave me.. "Every woman pregnant is and will look totally different. Don't worry." That's another thing I'm thankful for, midwives. Just saying.. Joey is moving though! So much more than I thought she'd be. Sometimes I wonder if she will be a dancer.. I mean, between me and Daniel I'd be really surprised that she has any skills (no offense babe) but sometimes I think about it. Maybe she'll play soccer, or guitar, or sing about every thing she's doing, even if it's going potty. She'll be curious and funny and beautiful and probably have an imagination like nothing I've seen before. I haven't even met her yet and she's swallowing my whole world of a mind. I sat up in bed this past week and wanted to find a "why" for my family to believe in and stand on. "Why" we do what we do, how we do it, what we want to chase after together and what we want to hold ourselves to. Something to come back to when we have forgotten what our family is about. Something for our kids to understand and read and look to and talk about what it means and make it their own. So I wrote a mantra. For our family. A mission statement, manifesto.. I just picked the funner word. The one thing I wanted to most include in there was "together, we create beauty." I am creating a person. Inside me, she grows and stretches and lets me know she's listening. I've said it before but ever since I found out my little was a "she", I have imagine the next 20 years, over and over in my head, everyday. I can barely wrap my mind around it, but I do believe God has given me a chance to do what He did when He created life. He is giving me a chance to shape a tiny universe. To mold it and teach, showing it the ways that I believe to live and love. Creating beauty, even calling to the beauty in my sweet little girl so that I can show her the life that God has blessed us with being a part of. I believe that seeing the beauty in myself, unveiling it, if you will; I believe that me doing that, gives me way to identify and reel out the beauty of my own daughter. Teaching her that seeing beauty and creating beauty is such a major part of life and joy and love and even God's plan for us. I pray she sees beauty. In others, in herself, in me even. I pray she learns to laugh without fear of the future. I pray she overcomes and is not controlled by the fear I have struggled with forever. The fear of tomorrow and what I can't control. I pray God continues to draw that out of me, unveiling truth and life that was bestowed in me at the beginning. And I pray she sees that. That she sees her Mommy, learning, trudging, fighting, breathing, laughing, loving, dreaming, and running through life as if it be a field of wild flowers. I pray that together, we find the freedom that God talks about. 27 weeks and it just seems to get sweeter and sweeter in time. New Year.
Unfortunately, my week 19 post was deleted... So heres some recreating from yours truly: WEEK 19, DAY 2 I woke up to spend the day waiting for my husband to finish with work so that I could pick him up. Today was the day we found if our little was a boy or girl! I was sooo jittery in the waiting room. It could've been from my extremely full bladder that I was trying to hold because normally they make me pee in a cup every time I come in. When my name was called and I told the nurse (who seemed to be in a hurry) basically told me to hold it. Well she asked if I could, but I just took it this way cause of my raging hormones... We got to see the cutest little nose and the cutest little booty and the cutest little toes, all snuggled into my womb. I can't believe we are having a baby girl... I didn't exactly know what "it" was suppose to look like, so honestly, as me and the nurse waited for Daniel to come back from the restroom, I thought we were definitely having a boy. Actually, the whole time I thought we were because of how much I had my heart wrapped around wanting a girl. See, I do this thing where I expect God to give me the huff-n-gruff of his plans, leaving me expecting almost nothing good or great from Him. Shallow, right? Regardless of what may happen later, God has seemed to continuously prove my Karen-brain wrong over and over again. (No offense to any Karen's reading this) Our sweet Joey girl WILL come this year. She WILL be my daughter and I WILL have every opportunity to be the best mom to her. (Believe it or not, these are things I always find myself doubting would happen.) Ya know, I have found myself everyday since that day, passing hours of work so quickly, filling up every second with a new picture or dream I with to see her be in. A few years ago, my best friend and I swore to each other we wouldn't have kids. This world is too screwed up to do that! And especially considering how worrisome we both are. Someone once said that "having a kid is like having a piece of your heart walk on the outside of your body." No statement has ever made more sense to me. The only difference between me now and me a few years ago, is that I have never wanted to experience something more than anything in this world than being a mom to this little girl. Josephine Ivory, I have dreamt so many dreams of meeting you. I have held you for so long, even when my mom was holding me! Hoping and waiting for just the right moment to welcome YOU into this world. And now, though I don't feel equipped at all; now, seems like just the right time. I haven't even met your sweet face and I already see glimpses of the beautiful, vibrant life ahead of you. I can't wait to watch it unfold. I will always want to see you through. I will always want to see you thrive and run and laugh and smile and dance and embrace every single thing that comes in your path. I want to see figure out and weigh all the differences of good and bad. I want you to find what you believe in. I want to see what makes you strong, what makes you weak and even what makes you cry. I imagine your heart being tender and huge like your Daddy and I's. I ache for the nights that you spend being confused and crying for the hurt of your heart or your close friends or even the world as a grand, wishing that I can already go ahead and scoop you up in my arms, making you feel safe and loved and beautiful. I ache for the times we misunderstand each other. For the times we find and bicker and question what we are doing wrong. I even ache sometimes for the relationship you will have with your sweet Dad. I envy it sometimes. Although, I know how strong and important it will be in your life, if it be anything like the one I have with my dad. This life is so huge and long and short and hard and beautiful and good. My prayers are that you see the sparkles. That you see the glistening, even in the midst of storming days. And that you find everything, everything that God has planned for you. It's the most beautiful, most exhilarating thing to know He is working within your life. I know that, now more than ever, because of you, my girl. WEEK 22, DAY 3 I feel her tiny feet and head kicking my belly so sweetly now. She seems to use my bladder as a trampoline, which can be alarming at 3 o'clock in the morning, but that's okay. Daniel has spoken to her everyday for the past few weeks, hoping that she becomes more familiar with his voice. That has come to be one of my favorite things to see. In four months (hopefully), I will be pushing this baby out of my hoo-haa. Kind of hit me the other day how big she will be by then and the feeling I will have as soon as I water breaks. Also, alarming feeling, but it's okay.. :) I honestly have never been more anxious to meet someone before. Well, as you can see I am a little bad at commitment, but that's okay.
Coming up on 5 months of pregnancy..wow. I tell you what, I have learned some scary things and some precious things and dealt with emotions that had me throwing my shoes at the wall, just "missing" my husband. Um, I think that's normal right? I've been told that life with a human inside you can be a little overwhelming at times, or all the time, or not at all.. Well, nobody actually told me that last part. There is some overwhelming feeling to some degree for everybody who is preggers. So, I'm not alone. How neat is that! This whole year has been the longest and quickest piece of crap that I have ever been a part of. I feel like everybody can agree with me that "what the heck did 2020 have against us?!?!" Seriously, it's like there was New Years and then Valentines Day and then all of a sudden a life threatening virus was making it's way across the world. I remember the day I heard about it and started wondering the tragic things that could happen this year for my family. Losing my husband, losing my folks, imagining how hard it must be for others who will go through that same thing. I definitely had to take a deep breath and focus on the "now" the only step infant of me that I can take and think about. Come about February, I'd say, Daniel (my hubs) and I had began looking for a house with an alright savings account made up and a very positive outlook on how this could go. First time home buyers here, by the way. We looked and looked and looked. We talked to banks, to close friends, to our parents even, to realtors, to every freakin' person who might know of another way on how to just own a stinkin' piece of property! On top of non of those conversations of house tours working out for our good, the virus was spreading fast. Before we knew it, summer was beginning with a total shut down of everything. Masks on. Sanitizers up. And don't show human affection or touching in any form. While people were locking themselves in their houses for weeks on end, I honestly don't think I have quarantined myself at all. I take that back. I spent one day inside because I had no car to go anywhere. I went crazy. Either way, me and everybody around me were definitely shoved into a fearful mindset of constantly wondering if Corona was hanging out around the corner, waiting to clog up my breathing tubes. I have yet to get it, thank God. But I have definitely experienced some sorrow and fear from nearly losing several loved ones to the stinking' disease. It hurts to see someone fighting soooo hard to stay alive. But it is so exhilarating to see them making it through. Anyway, back to the house hunt. It is still going, incase you were wondering. Oh, and on top not finding anything, we weren't able to afford our own rent as it is, so now, here we are in 10x10 room with my two fur babies, me, my husband, and my kicking baby. Did you say overwhelming? There has definitely been multiple weeks and days and hours just full of crying and questioning and shrugs away from my husbands hugs. I hate myself for that. Part of me knows its the baby. But a bigger part of me thinks I am strong enough to not lose myself so much to emotions and anger. But then another part of me believes that some times in pregnancy, ya just gotta trudge on through. And that's okay. Week 10, I showed up to my midwive's office for the first appointment in the Natural Birthing Center. I don't know if it was just all the exceptions of everything other ladies and friends had told me about having midwife, but I walked in those doors, and immediately felt at peace. Home, even. I don't even know why. Don't ask me why, I felt so restful talking to a lady I'd never met, as she rubbed gel all over my belly, trying to hold back tears when she asked me how I was doing. I felt like she listened though. (And bless his heart, I know that my husband listens to me at times, but for some reason there is often a little devil on my shoulder telling me he's thinking about the song playing on the radio.) Anyway, she asked. I told her how emotional I had been feeling, how my papa was on the downhill journey to death, and the rest of my family are fighting off corona from a family gathering, and that I threw my shoe at my husband, and that I gotta pee atlas three times an hour and that I have to live with my parents and that I just feel super overwhelmed and tired and like men don't understand and I just want to know God and ..... Did you catch any of that? Yeah, you can imagine the scene of a pregnant 23 year old showing up in a check up room, spilling her guts, being comforted by the doc, and then coming up out of that dark hole.. She got the little thingy with the gel on it out to check my baby's heartbeat for the first time. Took a few minutes, no worries (I was worrying), she got another 2 doctors to come in a help, they laughed and tried to change the subject, I was slowly losing my good vibes smile... but then I heard it. It sounded like a Choo-choo train. 170BPM. So fast, so full of energy it seemed. I took a deep breathe. To my surprise, I didn't cry, though I am while writing this. It was a good feeling. A rest I had been needing for a while. A rest that everything is as it should be and this baby is growing, inside me, so it can be born and begin a life of endless possibilities. That's in me! I am growing that! I wiped that gel (felt like lube) off myself, took that birthing class pamphlet, and walked out of that hospital in a more hopeful mood than I walked in there with. She told me that weeks 9-13 are the worst emotionally. That I can look forward to things possibly looking up soon. That was a good thought. So, here I am, week 19. No tears today, I don't think. Though I did just cry at the mom-daughter scene in the new Croods movie this week. Either way, I'm okay. We find out the gender of my sweet little something on Monday. I am beyond excited to meet it. To see is grow, and make that adorably ugly crying sound at night, and to feed it from my boobs, and to watch it try to hold up its tiny wobbly head. All of this 2020 crap, all the tears and all the laughing at random jokes of shirts, it's all part of the process right? Part of the journey, of the life of endless possibilities that I was born into, right? That's a good thought. Almost 3 weeks ago, I read positive on a pregnancy test! My dream of becoming a mom, was beginning. well, maybe I should call it a hidden dream, one left unthought of, that is, until I got married. Prior to my wedding, last November, having a kid was one of the scariest things I could think of happening soon! It wasn't because I had "so much life to still live", I was "too young", or "I want to focus on my career (what career?)." It was simply because this world is a scary place to be responsible for something so precious to life and myself. Having a kid? what if I messed up and it cost losing my child? what if something happened to them that I couldn't control? Like what if they were taken from me? Forced to do something I prayed so hard that they would never have to face? Could my heart even bare losing someone so dear to me and eventually continue to seek out the goodness in life again?
I remember agreeing with my best friend, we are never going to have kids. Somewhere along the line of meeting the Love of my life, finding a home in each other, and facing more of my clinging fear, a foreign -yet familiar- hope, unlocked. If I was created to do good, and be good and create good... how could I not want to create life inside of me? I am an artist. I naturally seek to bring out beauty and life and the unseen goodness. And so, it clicked in me, nearly 9 months into my marriage, that I was destined, called even, to be a mom. Today, I stepped into the doctors office off of Clara St. (how ironic) for the first time in maybe too long and felt as though, I stepped into my big girl shoes. There is something sweet and honestly, that makes me want to sweat a little, about stepping onto the Baby floor of a hospital because you are expecting. I'll admit, my legs were a bit shaky (another thing that happens when I get nervous), since this appointment included a PAP smear, pelvic exam, and blood work. My mom was with me, surprisingly. I am a very awkward person when it comes to my body or the doctor or the doctor touching my body...so my first thought was to get in and out of there, as fast as I can, alone. Nobody will ever have to speak of this day other than me, myself, and I (and possibly my doctor.) However, my mom came with. She was a good emotional support friend to have by me as they asked a lot of questions and shoved things up my hoo-haa. She made me feel important and capable of taking on a healthy, mommy-woman lifestyle. (Thanks Mom!) |
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