have you been here before?

because it's where i am today.

it started with a bang

today that is. i woke up with a fevered to-do list that went something like this: tear apart the entire house and try to rebuilt it by bedtime.

it didn't work.

today i woke up to wilting tulips and crumbs on the cutting board, tempting leftovers [read: breakfast] in the refrigerator, and several neglected projects that needed doing.

disassemble the playhouse.
reassemble outside.
clean the mudroom.
load the car for d.i.
clean daughter's closet. [read: entire mess/junkyard of a room]
tackle playroom.
finish laundry.

and now those things are done.

but now the rest of my house is a disaster. and the tulips are more dead. and the crumbs are still on the cutting board. and that 1/4 of a chocolate cream pie?

(pretty much gone.)

such a day as this

this morning, i didn't realize the extent of my anxiety till i laid down and felt queer deja vu at having been there before, in july, on a cold table next to an ultrasound machine, my eyes glued to aaron's worried eyebrows that changed not and stayed worried: they said everything the technician wouldn't. that day there was no heartbeat.

and today, again, my eyes were tunnel vision to my husband's face. i couldn't hear the measured breathing and gentle sighs of the lady manning the ultrasound wand. i couldn't even read the relaxed slope of my husband's shoulders. i couldn't believe that something bad wasn't about to happen... and when aaron met my eyes seeking his so desperately, immediately he squeezed my ankle. immediately he nodded that even nod. immediately he smiled at me: it was ok. and then almost just as immediately, the tears came.

and then the prayers. i laid in the dim room, my sudden holy chapel, and closed my eyes with impassioned gratitude. could it be so? could it be so perfect?

my body is changing. i have felt the life force of gentle kicks each night as i lay down and try to readjust myself according to a bigger belly's needs. i have felt the peace in my heart that only my faith can bring-- that things will be okay, and yet i've been so afraid to get excited. afraid to hope. afraid to believe.

i think sometimes that bad experiences erase beautiful and good experiences. i have had three healthy pregnancies... but i can't remember them any more. i can't remember that the miracle of conception and childbirth has nothing to do with me. it only seems some foreign, impossible magic that i witness wistfully from a distance, bestowed on a very lucky few.

this is preposterous philosophy of course. i am beyond blessed in my own cocoon of a perfect life, and today it was reiterated.

we're having a baby.

we're having a baby.

we are really having a baby.



and guess what?

it's a boy!

wondering

I look like I have a potbelly.

What I have is a baby belly.



I guess we're all in the process of change, all the time. But I can't grasp this one the way I thought-- even though it's backed by such fierce longing and over and year of up and down (literally) as I would get pregnant and then lose the babies.

I am so (so so so SO) thankful for this pregnancy but having a hard time staying in balance emotionally, physically, and creatively. I'm having a hard time in trusting my husband's affections because I've fallen to a place of lowly self-induced unworthiness. I feel unattractive and so I try and make it up by being docile wife and homemaker in a way that is wholly foreign to how I naturally operate. To say there is not joy in my movements is dramatic, but something is missing.

I am full of miraculous things and yet

something is missing...


?


(me. it's me that's missing.)




Motherhood is not new to me nor are these emotions and changes unexpected, still I'm struck by their endurance to pile drive me yet again. What do I want? How do I balance the me with the she (she should be)? And how do I have enough time for all of it while being the mother that my children deserve?

today i saw the sky

(my baby, age: cute baby, circa 2000-something or other)

and i'd forgotten how blue it is. and how wonderful the clouds. and how squinty the sun makes my eyes. and how clear and clean and sharp the rain makes everything look.

i'm so grateful for a beautiful day. and for getting to walk and ride bikes in it (still freezing our buns off), and for deep breaths of luscious fresh air drawn in big gulps.

i feel happy. and now, life just seems... sparkly.

segullah...

againsies.

it's snowing!

long lamenting our utah inversion, i've held out hope for snow and every morning before i even turn on the light in my bathroom, i peek out the window with disappointment: still dry ground, yellow lawn.

this morning it started to snow. i can't tell you how happy that makes me. that means instead of taking them to the playground to slide down the slide with mittened fingers and runny noses, we can stop there with our new zipfys. (mittened fingers, runny noses.)

(although really that means we don't have to do ANYTHING today. well, anything besides crafts. and baking. and running to the porch excitedly for packages.)