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Ten Things I Know About You. (74)

Sweet Little Honeybee,

I’m learning you better as time goes on. I can’t wait to know you face to face, but for now, here are ten things I’ve learned about you thus far as I’ve carried you these past seven months:

  1. You love music and the sound of your littlest brother’s voice. Whenever I sing to you or he talks to my belly, you move around and interact, bringing us both great joy.
  2. You respond to water, and based on how you move, I think you like it. I’ll be so interested to see if water relaxes you when you’re here in the world.
  3. You like to sit low in my belly. I’ve never had a baby settle in quite this way. You sure seem cozy there and I hope you are.
  4. God gave me a dream about you before I knew you were already growing. He’s given at least four friends a dream or a word about you since I became pregnant, too. God is so, so kind in this way, and the encouragement gives me such hope about your unique place in this world.
  5. Every time I think about a space for you, I imagine it as airy and light and warm. I expect this will suit who you are, and your peaceful nature will be a gift to all who know you.
  6. You are our seventh baby, but our fourth here on earth. You will always be a redemptive spot in our lives…a way that God is healing and has healed places in our hearts and brought lightness to our spirits.
  7. Your siblings are going to dote on you in a beautiful way. I’ve been watching them with your baby cousin for the past few days and they will care for you in a way that will likely bring me to tears. There’s so much love for you among them.
  8. Somehow you feel like a first baby all over again. I think because it’s been nearly five years since I had your brother, this season of carrying you gives me fresh eyes again as I experience pregnancy. It’s a beautiful feeling to walk along this journey as a seasoned mom, but with new lessons for the taking at every turn.
  9. You are long awaited and anticipated. Please always know that you are wanted and loved, and that you belong here in our family.
  10. God knew you before he created you. Before you were in my womb, He set you apart. You will always, always be His treasured child, and as much as we love you and will always love you, He loves you even more.

It is a great privilege to take part in bringing you into the world, little one. I love you so,

Mama

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Sleeping on the Job. (75)

Well, I’ll admit that my energy seems in short supply sometimes lately–I have all of the ambition and vision and not so much of the gusto. I’m sure trying though! I’ll give plenty of things a shot if I can swing them. This baby is busy as a bee in my belly, which is endearing at all hours, and encouraging, too. As I try to figure out baby’s sleep patterns, I’m realizing that they definitely don’t line up with my own. It’ll be so interesting to see whether that holds true after he or she is here.

Overall when resting, I have zero trouble falling asleep. That said, staying asleep is a tall order some nights, and I usually max out of patience with being in bed after about six hours. I’m sure I could use more sleep, but that darn left hip will get me every time. 😉 I know my body is preparing me for the days ahead where sleep is hard to grasp, though it seems like a challenging aspect of nature to help a mom with that process of adjusting even before there’s a newborn needing attention. Wouldn’t it be grand to be able to store up all the sleep now and use it little by little as needed later?

As I type this, I’m nodding off and so very ready to scoop up my six hours of rest. Baby might be turning circles through the night, but I’ll be here trying to stay as peaceful as possible. I do so love these changes all along the process. This means baby is around the corner, right? 10.5 weeks (give or take) and counting.

Grow sweet baby, grow!

MM

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In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning. (76)

Little one,

I remember so clearly how I used to rock your oldest brother near the dormer window in our old house in the summertime. The birds were waking up, long before the rest of the world, and I’d imagine all of the other mamas in other places, nursing and rocking their babies to sleep at the same time, too. There was something sacred enough about that space that it’s still perfectly fresh in my memory a decade later. And I’m thinking about it now because it’s late and the hour feels small, and because I eagerly await the early mornings when I’ll have the chance to nurse and rock you back to sleep in just the same way.

So many things change over time, and so many things stay the same. Your brother is now ten and almost as tall as I am–if I tried to rock him in the rocker these days he’d laugh and probably fall out of my lap for lack of space (if he let me try it at all). Back then he depended on me for everything he needed, and these days he makes his own breakfast and lunch and cuddles up next to me on the couch so we can finish long stories in books he then pours over on his own. He’s becoming independent, which is right and good, but his reliance on me in those first months or years of life was so right and good, too. I have great hope to recreate those kinds of memories afresh with you.

It’s been almost five years now since I had a newborn to tend to in the middle of the night, and even though I remember it plain as day, it feels like it’s been a very long time. I’m a decade older (and maybe wiser?), but in a sense it’s like we’re beginning again in this phase of pregnancy, with the newborn stage on the horizon. Having you and your siblings spread so widely in age is becoming an unexpected gift in and of itself. I can’t wait to see your growth and development through their eyes. I can’t wait to watch them get to know you and love you in their own ways. Seeing them now as they look at other babies…there’s just something really beautiful about the anticipation of it for everyone here.

We’re so eager to meet you, honeybee. And while that day still feels far away, this countdown to you is diminishing quickly, too. Before then, we’ll keep praying over you and making space for you here. You are already so much a part of this family and who we are, and it’s just one of the sweetest parts of this whole miracle to get to watch your siblings witness it, too.

Love you so, sweet babe.

Mama

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A Prayer for Summertime. (77)

God, you are so good to us. You’ve brought us through a very tough year and sustained us when we didn’t know what exactly we needed or what would come next. You faithfully carried us in moments of fear, weakness, uncertainty and doubt, and you offered grace abundantly in so many situations we were navigating for the first time.

Now, summer is upon us–what a glorious feeling! The kids have all come through an anything-but-ordinary school year, we’ve hung up backpacks and put away school supplies, and we’re gearing up for days of swimming and fishing and growth and sunshine. It all feels so hopeful, and everything that we experience as encouragement is something you’ve offered to us freely out of the overflow of your tenderness towards us, your generosity to us.

There has been a lot of loss this past year, and now finally feels like a time when we can look forward and not back…when we can more tangibly process what we’ve felt and move into a season of joyful expectation. Would you please help us to move through the areas of hurt, pain or disappointment we feel and into a space of greater freedom and peace? Father, in your mercy, you protect and defend us against the enemy, against harm. Please send your angels of covering and protection over our families–and especially our children–as we embark on summertime adventures and fill our days with physical activity.

Lord, summer is always a gift here as we’re relieved of colder, grayer days, layers and closed up homes. Would you help us to embrace the warmer weather, to be joyful about high temperatures or hot sunshine or extra daylight and to be restored amidst fresh air and outdoor living? Please help us to be good neighbors and friends, to extend ourselves to others as we’re able and to remember those who might need extra encouragement in this season. Please allow us to be your hands and feet, and to model this for our children as well.

God, we are thankful. We’re thankful for a break from routine, for more family time together, for long days and beach sunsets, picnics and ice cream stops, baseball and gardens. We’re thankful that everything feels more alive and colorful, that our territory expands greatly as we can enjoy being outside, that we can soak up Vitamin D and care for our bodies well, and that we can enjoy locally grown produce at the ready. Summertime is so full of good things!

Heading to bed tonight, we are eager to see what you’ll do and how you’ll move in the weeks ahead. No matter where we go, we trust that you are already there, making a pathway for those who love you and pursuing those who may not know you yet. Please help us to be your hands and feet in this world that so desperately needs the kind of hope and covering only you can provide.

Amen!

MM

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Hard. (78)

Wednesday was a respite for me and I’m so thankful, because lately, the rest of the days have each brought a new level of hard. I think it matters to just be real about the state of things, whether or not we’re talking with one friend or sharing more publicly, like I do in seasons here. Hard isn’t the same as bad, but it’s still stretching and wearing sometimes, right?

I’m awfully tired tonight. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. The days have been go, go, go, and I’m not up to my usual pace. Mentally, this game of wading through the weeks has me spinning a little, even though I truly do love being pregnant and consider this 40 week span an amazing adventure.

I guess the reality is, there’s room for both joy and exhaustion. There has to be, because I’m carrying both. My belly feels entirely full of baby, so much so that I really can’t bend at the waist at all without major discomfort. I don’t remember feeling this way at this point with previous pregnancies, and it’s ok, but it’s just an added challenge. I’ll bend for as long as I can, but then when I need to ask for help, it can be so humbling…and I struggle with doing it.

We’re journeying though interesting territory, especially with still-young kiddos. Everyone’s used to me moving at a good clip and taking care of a lot more than I can right now, and it still seems like a shock to some (after many weeks) when I express my need for extra hands or for someone to take over something I’d normally do. Maybe it’s just their ages, or maybe I need to figure out how to manage expectations differently, but its as though I’m asking people to move mountains instead of library books, boulders instead of personal effects. I feel like I’m running into the same brick wall more times than I’d like to count.

Tonight didn’t end well, mostly on account of me not having more bandwidth for the same disciplinary hiccups we’ve faced multiple times over here. Hard. Just extra rough on a day that was already a little frayed around the edges.

As we do, we’ll hope to wake up in the morning able to pray with gratitude for another day and new mercies in it. We’ll start again. I’ll attempt to keep my heart, mind, and spirit in check, and hopefully I can. There are so many factors playing in, and many I can’t control. I know my attitude isn’t one of those, so I’ll try again to be upbeat and positive and encouraged/encouraging. If you’re reading this and also the praying type, I’d be so grateful for your prayers of protection over the joy and kindness in our home, over our littlest babe growing, and over my physical self as I face different idiosyncrasies this pregnancy that I’ve not had (or at least not had this soon) before.

Headed to bed and needing it so much tonight. I’ve never craved closing my eyes as much as I do lately.

MM