- The boys get to sleep in their new room for the first time tonight–exciting for all!
- Our household has more books that we know what to do with, which is a great gift and also a little bit of a conundrum. Between us we have so many mixed interests and age groups and favorites.
- Weekly trips to drop off book and toy donations are a staple these days.
- The kids make excellent helpers and runners when they’re motivated by their own progress–beautiful!
- This week the plants outside need soooo much water.
- We all went out for Mexican food tonight for dinner and the baby has a lot to say about it.
- Divide and conquer trips to Meijer and Menards make for interesting after-dinner events.
- Thirty three weeks along, contractions spice up moments throughout the day, every day.
- Today would have been Gramma’s 91st birthday and I never stop thinking about her. I miss her always, but especially on days like today.
- Fireworks are getting set up around the lake…Happy (almost) 4th, everyone!
Condensed Nesting. (49)
A few weeks ago, someone asked me if we were going to have a doula for this upcoming birth. As a doula myself, that surely seems like a natural conclusion to draw. We’ve had a doula twice, and the third time were planning to have a doula until circumstances shifted six weeks or so before baby was due. At that time, we were most comfortable with our doula from our previous births, and since it was relatively close to my due date, we opted not to try to replace her with someone less familiar. We certainly missed having her, but as it was our third labor and delivery, we didn’t feel the need to rush into something different. This time though, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to consider and interview other possible doulas but it never really crossed my mind. I’m sure there are a few factors playing into this, not the least of which are the hospital restrictions that have been in place over the past year plus, and my being unsure whether an extra support person would be allowed in the room. That said, I think the real reason I didn’t consider a doula all this time is because I hadn’t let my heart go that far down the road. I wanted to, sure, but everything felt so tenuous for so long…it must have been subconscious self preservation not to let my mind commit to the day we’ll welcome this baby here.
Now we’re seven weeks away from my due date, and while I still have to talk myself away from challenging thoughts and hanging my hat on, “Nothing is guaranteed,” I also recognize that it’s important to prepare for this little one to arrive. It’s even more important that I lean into that truth–this little baby is going to arrive. With that in mind, I’m suddenly in go mode even more than I’ve felt before. I want things in their place now…not later. I want to know that there’s a cozy spot for the baby to sleep, clean baby clothes in drawers, maybe some sweet and intentional art hanging on the nursery walls. We had the “nursery” painted months ago, but our boys are still sharing that same room at the moment. It’s a small detail, but it might be easier to set up a crib in there if they were in their new room instead.
I’m trying to stay lighthearted about all of this, but there’s so much to it and I know I’m also processing a lot. I have a vision for the baby’s room, but not all of the elements to make that vision a reality just yet. I feel like I’m suddenly rushing around for things I probably could have sorted out sooner had I not been quite as stifled in my belief that this was all really happening. God has had my heart, mind, body and spirit on a journey of learning to trust and surrender over and over. I’m so grateful, and I’m also still growing.
In a way, this process and the timing of it is pretty wonderful. Getting things ready for baby to arrive is a helpful and soothing way for me to prepare and tangibly feel the excitement of it all. Creating a space that will be intentional and calm and lovely, well…that’s my ambition, and hopefully, what we end up with when all is said and done, too.
I know that we could welcome baby tomorrow, and that he or she would be just fine without the crib up or a designated room to call their own. But creating the baby’s space has historically been a healthy, creative, intentional process for me, and this time it feels no different. Time will tell if I can have certain “staple” items checked off of the list in the weeks we have left, but I’m certainly going to try. Creating a place for our honeybee is an honor, and it will be far more so when we can use the space for its purposes and discover more of who this little one is going to be.
I can’t wait, but I can. It’s a good feeling, to be right here in the midst of both being true.
MM
Livin’ on a Prayer. (50)
If I haven’t titled post #50 in a 100 day countdown, “Livin’ on a Prayer” before now, I’m really not sure why. That seems like low hanging fruit, right? It’s so accurate for where things are right now on multiple levels. I don’t know for fact that I’m halfway through the last 100 days to baby, but if I were a betting pregnant woman…
I decided this week that I’m reclaiming summer after a slow start out the gate for our crew. Today is July 1st (would be my grandparents 71st anniversary, today, FWIW), and the start of July plus 50 or so days to baby feels like the right time to be celebratory and intentional and to put a stake in the ground. Summer, commence! I want to do all of the summertime things we can possibly enjoy without driving ourselves to the brink of exhaustion or turning it into a to-do list instead of a fun pursuit.
This morning, we got up and took ourselves to the beach about a half hour away. I knew a rocky beach would add extra entertainment vs. the sandy beaches we usually frequent, and my instinct proved profitable. Between the gazillion rocks to stack, carry, build with, move, and collect, the awesome tide pools left by days of rain and water filling in from the lake, and the family of similarly-aged kiddos who built dams and channel systems with our crew, we had a solid two hours of whine-free playtime in my happiest place. It was windy, but the sun was shining and the sky was blue, I managed to read a few chapters of a fiction book due back soon to the library, and it FELT LIKE SUMMER, Amen! We all needed it. We’ll need more of it. And we’re going after it. 50 days or so to live life to the full with our three while this baby swims around tucked inside…it’ll be balm to all of our souls if we can sprinkle these kinds of memories throughout the next number of weeks. You can bet we’ll try!
If I didn’t feel so compelled to make it count, I know we could spend the entire summer this way: sleep-in mornings for the kids, stacks of books piling up in the living room–blankets and pillows and cozy straight on through lunchtime, and me wandering around the house trying to make progress on a million little things I could just go crazy over until it’s too late to tackle any of them any more. The sun would shine and the days would be the temperature we all dream about the whole rest of the year, and we’d miss it all as it went by outside the front door. I’m all about some cozy, sleep-in mornings in summertime, but the reward is pretty great for pursuing the mini-adventure, too. This week, I’m so grateful for three days so far of getting up and out and onto something a bit distanced from home. We’ve all benefitted from the change of scenery and the re-discovery that there’s a world out there waiting for us to soak it in. And while I’m experiencing some kind of second wind wave of energy this pregnancy that I didn’t really expect would come, you can bet I want to capitalize on the gift that it is to be out living life with our kiddos. Grace, really. It’s all grace. And I’m beyond thankful for it and feeling healthier because of it.
Here’s to “half way there” and all of the prayers it takes to keep moving forward. The joy of the Lord really is our strength!
MM
Growth Days. (51)
There are days when I feel I’ve grown more than others, and today was one of those days. I don’t mean that my belly feels bigger, but that a number of things happened today from a spiritual/mental/emotional standpoint that feel like good strides. I always love this, and I try to fully embrace it, because it’s not an every day thing and not something I want to miss noticing. It’s more an acknowledgement of my gratitude for it that I want to articulate…I just feel better when I’m making progress on the things that matter, and I recognize that this isn’t of my own doing, but rather something that requires my participation. We have to be willing to accept it in order to grow in certain areas, right?
When I think about my garden plot in life, I want to till rich soil that’s good for planting. I want to clear out weeds and be a hospitable environment for seeds to take root. I want to retain moisture and be open to sunshine and to cultivate progress that bears fruit. We know that this is daily work, and sometimes I get out to tend the garden more responsibly, while other days I might ignore it or simply not find time to address it in the midst of life’s details. That said, I never want to abandon the work that’s already done. Nurturing what’s growing really matters to me–in every area of life.
Today, I had an hour to spend with someone in self-reflection. It was cathartic and clarifying and helpful. Later, I sat with another friend just sharing about life and catching up on things, which is always good for reviewing what’s happening around me (and how I’m feeling about it). I had a good bit of time in the car and plugged into a podcast that built on things I’d shared with others earlier in the day. This felt awfully intentional and timely on God’s part, and it was also kind. I needed some clarity on a few things, and the events of the day allowed room for processing and leaning into where He has me right now. It was the encouraging space I needed after a day of soul searching and getting really real with myself about some feelings yesterday. I feel like it all just piggy backs in a way that helps me to see God’s hand in growing and stretching me right now. I am so grateful for that grace. He doesn’t have to show me, but in answered prayers, He demonstrates His attention to detail and also His knowing how much those details matter to me.
I don’t know what the day holds tomorrow. It doesn’t necessarily matter. I’d love for it to be a great and encouraging day, and I’d love the chance to keep building on what God did in my heart today. I know I’m not promised that. But I’m hopeful that this self-reflecting can keep coming. In a space when I feel so attuned to the world around me, I want to be soaking up all of the helpful parts and using them to be the fullest and most authentic version of myself that I can. I need God’s help with that, and He has already given the go-ahead on pursuing it, so I’m feeling ready to dig in.
Tomorrow is the halfway point through this exercise of documenting the last 100-ish days of baby’s journey here. I can hardly believe it, and you’d better believe I want to savor these and the remainder for all they’re worth. There’s too much good in the process to fall asleep on it in this season. Would you please continue to pray that I remain open and available to all God wants to do through this growing phase? And that He would continue to cover and keep this baby safe and well, and mama alongside? In the pursuit of what is good, and in the celebration of life, I know the the enemy wouldn’t have things this way. The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is needed and invited here, so that God has room to do all that He’ll do.
Humbled and grateful, daily.
MM
I’ve Got a Feeling. (52)
Do you ever walk through a moment or experience and feel like you’re attuned to every little thing? As if all of the details were right in front of you and you could reach out and grasp every element of what’s happening? I’m taking a shot at describing the heightened sense of awareness I feel in just about every way lately, though I probably can’t make total sense of it in words.
I can’t decide if this is just some new level of pregnant mama spider sense, but I don’t remember feeling exactly this way ever before. My sense of wonder is like nothing I’ve experienced. I’m in awe over every detail of creation–every flower, every sky, every little bird in the yard. The rain. A new bug. Our children at every turn. I can’t take enough pictures. Everything about this growing belly amazes me, and I find myself wanting to remember every second of sweetness that happens in a day.
I feel oddly discerning about textures, colors, lighting, sound. I fixate on things that wouldn’t have gotten my attention before, to the detriment of other things that could probably really use it. Nesting is in full force, and it has been…for ages. I kind of remember that being a phase before, but this time around, it feels like it’s been my entire pregnancy. I want things settled. I anticipate tasks I’d like to accomplish long before their deadline. (Except writing here, which I feel married to tackling in real time each day.) A caveat of all of this is that I can see and know how I want something to be or to turn out, but I can’t muster enough time or energy to make it all happen to meet my vision. This season has been a lesson in expectation management over and over. Revisions feel necessary just about every five minutes.
On the flip side of my heightened sensitivity to aesthetics, sound (especially sound), order and creation, I have little appetite for any specific foods and a more limited capacity to manage frustrations (or maybe more accurately, pet peeves). When everyone is talking all at once, there’s clutter from little ones in any (every!) space, someone in the lane next to me is driving down the road looking at their phone, people are chewing ice in the same room or another day has gone by without me tackling a task that’s weighing heavily on my mind, I struggle not to speak up (or at least not to feel a little bit of a skin crawl as I try to push feelings back down). My kiddos know this full well and they could attest. I have so much more bandwidth for awe and beauty these days–something we celebrate together daily. I also have so much less capacity for irritations (please, please stop leaving your things under the couch!) and I know H, E and C are feeling that just as much.
I wish I knew what to do with all of the feelings. I’m sure someone on the outside looking in could easily just chalk it all up to hormones, and maybe that’s right. But this feels more nuanced than that. In a way, it’s like a pregnancy super power on some levels and a real challenge on others. I’m kind of curious to see whether it ebbs and flows as I get nearer to the end of carrying this babe, if it’s exclusive to this pregnancy, or if it’s something I’ll carry with me into this new phase of motherhood with four littles at home. I want to make the best of it, which requires some silver lining focus and honing in on all of the beauty while also intentionally tempering my frustrations. Whether I can do both with some success in these next few weeks remains to be seen, but I’ll surely try.
Even though we’ve been down this road before, this time around continually feels like new territory–always showing, always teaching, always inviting me into new spaces of reliance, dependence and trust. I hope I can honor the process while I’m in it and long after.
MM
Invitation. (53)
It’s rare that I’d end up outside with just one kiddo, but yesterday afternoon our eldest and I were out by the lake, just the two of us, when he asked me if I wanted to take the kayaks out together. I hesitated at first, thinking about the logistics of my very pregnant self on a kayak, but a little voice in the back of my head whispered, “Go.” I’m so glad it did.
Out in the middle of the lake with our boy, those twenty minutes or so were some of the best of the day. The sun had come out after another bit of rain and the breeze was perfect, but of course the weather wasn’t the highlight. Paddling and joking with H out on the water was unexpected and beautiful. If I’d let the details get in the way of getting out on that little boat, I would have missed it. We laughed together over my belly, talked about how it was baby’s first kayak ride and noticed the colors on the water as the sun glistened down. I hope I never forget it.
I know there will be days coming up when individual time with each of our kids will be even more limited for a while. Certainly, in this season of pregnancy, our family is feeling the changes to our daily norms already. My lap isn’t readily available, my energy changes day to day. I’ve asked more from our children in the past few months than maybe ever before and they are truly rising to the occasion with grace. While I know they all already deeply love their baby brother or sister, I can’t wait to give them the joy of this baby here in our home and lives.
Tonight we took family photos out at the beach as a storm rolled in from the south. It was a night I don’t think any of us will forget too quickly. After running to the car to get out of the downpour, we waited it out until the sky cleared completely over the water. Then we all wandered the almost empty beach together, the kids running and exploring, and J and I remembering summers past when we wandered the same stretch of beach with one, then two kiddos and my belly just as full each time as it was tonight. Invitation. Invitation to remember, to savor, to enter in. Invitation to play in the rain. Invitation to say yes to what’s right in front of me. I’m beyond grateful for all of it, and I pray for continued opportunities to hear the voice in my head that says, “Go”–not only in this chapter, but for all of the times God has something for me that He’d hate for me to miss.
MM
It’s Not Easy Being Green. (54)
After an incredibly dry spring and what seemed like forever without any significant rain, our area has had days of storms and downpours this past week. I’d read that a very dry summer was predicted, but I didn’t imagine it shaping up to be so much that way until the hotter months…July and August, mostly. Instead, keeping plants alive was proving to be difficult, especially as we started up our garden around Memorial Day. Three of us routinely took turns watering the plants several times a day, our sprinklers were on like clockwork and it still felt like there might be no hope of things greening up (or staying viable) as we headed closer to mid-summer. Now we’re still not quite there, and everything has had as much water as anyone could ask for and then some. Our plants are all as healthy as can be and the grass looks happy. I know that the amount of rain we’ve gotten hasn’t been good for everyone everywhere, but it’s just amazing to me how much can change in a few days time.
Do you ever feel so incredibly parched, aching for refreshment and in need of life-giving sustenance? I think we all have moments or seasons where we’re like the grass and flowers, wilting and weathered under the baking sun day after day, begging for rain. And I know it doesn’t always come. It’s not every time that what we need or ask for is granted to us. But when it does come, it’s more than manna to our dried out, weary selves–it’s like milk and honey, above and beyond the basics we need, offering blessing and a sense of hope for what’s next.
As the rain poured down day after day this past week, it felt like promise springing up for the parched areas of life in this segment of time. Every time I looked out to see rain starting again as a sprinkle over the lake, mounting into a shower or storm or downpour, I couldn’t help but think it was like God saying, “I see you. I see you again. I’m always on time, never late. I haven’t forgotten. This all matters to me, too.”
In the rainy mornings, the birds outside our window sounded so cheerful, grateful. It was like the whole earth around us was celebrating a feast. Even this morning, when the last of the major forecasted storms had all passed, I spotted the tiniest bird drinking droplets of water from the underside of our deck railing…sustenance for the littlest or least of these. When we’re reminded in Scripture that the birds and the flowers are fed and clothed and cared for, it’s true. And then, how much more must our Creator care for us? Infinitely more than we could ever understand.
We worry after so many things in this life. The details feel significant, the circumstances sometimes insurmountable. But then there is always hope in what is yet to come…the thing we cannot yet see. A week ago our yard was browning up in spite of all of our efforts to keep things watered. The sun had just been shining for so many consecutive days and our plants couldn’t withstand more of the dry heat. But now? Everything looks so lush and full and alive. Thriving wasn’t far behind the need, even though we couldn’t perceive it beforehand. This metaphor for living a life of trust is striking to me this week as I press into God’s sovereignty and lean nearer to Him daily, doing my best to rely on His life and Word as my sources of health and strength.
It’s not easy being green on our own, is it? We weren’t created to live without help, without community, without God’s intervention, without prayer, without sustenance. We need both sun and rain to keep going–to keep growing well where we are. We need heat and cool, we need truth and hope, we need trust and reliance. And we often need patience, sometimes up to what feels like the last possible moment, to receive whatever God has for us out of His abundance. I’m so thankful for tangible illustrations these days to be reminded of what’s true and where to hang my hat. As I feel so sensitive (in heart, mind, body and spirit) to all that’s happening around me right now, God is so good to meet my sensitivities with His narrative. It feels like inches of rain, generously poured out in the right moments, on land just waiting to spring forth with hope and life.
MM
Ebb and Flow. (55)
This chapter is like waves–moods and feelings, energy and exhaustion all coming and going like a tide washing over whole days and receding on others. One moment, I’m extremely motivated and ready to take on the world and every task, and the next, I’m back on the couch trying to temper down the emotions of the day or the physical sensations of pressure or pain. It’s a roller coaster I don’t mind to be on, but also unpredictable.
Today I woke up after a stretch of seven hours of sleep. These days, that’s a really good, lengthy amount of time for me to be horizontal. I’ve noticed my sleep patterns changing, the early mornings growing earlier and more restless and the nights shorter, no matter when I go to bed. Even after five or six hours of rest, I find I’ll surprise myself by being strangely awake and ready to take on the day. Some days I can coast on that until evening, and other days, I’m ready to crash by lunchtime. I can be so ready to get things done, with a list of projects as long as my arm on my mind. Then I start in on one task and my energy fizzles out long before I’m ready to be done with the effort–just a confusing mix of my head and body not really being in sync with each other, no matter how I will them to be.
There’s a lot of grace for a pregnant mama in her third trimester, I know. But I don’t always have grace for myself, and my expectations are high. Once again I’m facing the message that I need more practice being still. Stillness remains a hard one for me and I wonder how long I’ll keep learning this lesson. To be wired a certain way and have your body working out of sync with that wiring is a tricky dynamic; for me, it’s a testing that adds to my weariness on the harder days.
I’m amazed at the ebb and flow of things right now…my physical capabilities, my emotional strength and resolve, my focus on what’s important and my fixation at times on things that will later be of no consequence at all. I think I’m feeling all of the feelings, and sometimes they come at once. To be happy and sad, joyful and resigned, hopeful and concerned, engaged and removed all in the same day some days, well…I guess I’ll just have to chalk that up to this process and aspects of it I certainly can’t control. I’m good with being here, just learning it in a way I’ve not experienced before. I wonder how I’ll feel on the other side of it all and what my reflection will be on this season when I’m much further down the road.
Tonight I feel the weight of the rhythms of this pregnancy, and not in a bad way, just in a way that makes me take notice. I want to remember that in the middle of this chapter, I was very much carried and not walking the path on my own. When I can’t make sense of it all (or of much), I take great comfort in knowing that it doesn’t all have to make sense to me. God is allowing things to be what they are or aren’t for reasons that will probably turn out to be beautifully stretching and growth-inducing. I’m all in for perseverance to produce character in my life in this process, so as I welcome it, I hope God will do with it all exactly as He sees best for me, for my family, and for this life growing inside of me.
For such a time as this,
MM
What 32 Weeks Feels Like This Time. (56)
Hope. 32 weeks feels like a breath of fresh air, a sense of encouragement and a gift of renewed strength for this journey towards baby. There might be eight weeks to go on the calendar, but my heart and instinct tell me that our little one will be here sooner than eight weeks from now. The mere possibility of that is hope overflowing today.
I had my 32 week appointment today and an ultrasound afterwards to check on one concern, which has resolved. I wasn’t actually worried about this particular detail, as it’s something I’ve experienced and seen resolved with our previous babies as well. Still, it was a huge benefit to my heart today to see baby again, moving and full of life and actually even looking content on the monitor. I might not have noticed that so readily, but J and the ultrasound tech both noticed it, too. This little one has grown so much since our last scan twelve weeks ago. I know that’s an obvious statement, but to see how much they’ve changed is just wildly fascinating and amazing to me.
We still don’t know baby’s gender, thanks to the steadfast encouragement from J and our tech to stick to my convictions about waiting. Goodness, I’ve never been more curious than I am this time around, and I couldn’t even tell you why. I think I’ve just had a stronger sense earlier on with the others, and this little one has remained more of a mystery to me. Today though, seeing their eyes open and blink, watching them wiggle and move every which way, noticing even more of the details of their hands and feet and face…it was more than manna for this mama’s soul.
The day settled itself out today with low key plans and commitments. The chance to connect with another friend this afternoon was an extra blessing, and being home on a rainy Friday afternoon and evening filled something I’m craving right now. J and I had the chance to grab a quick brunch after my ultrasound this morning, and spending time talking over possible boy and girl names and who this baby might be was right where I needed to land after seeing more of our honeybee at our scan. I think I’ve fought back the belief for so long that these days might never come, and the relief and joy in getting to each milestone is big.
Every time I set down another weighty lie in this process, I balance the feelings of release and shame at the same time. How grateful I am to set another weight down, and how badly I feel that I’ve not trusted and believed even more. This is such a real human struggle, I think. And yet I know that God doesn’t look down on me for my unbelief–instead I’m humbled by the awareness that He celebrates my release. That, and He offers more of it and wants more of it for me all of the time.
Today, I’m experiencing freedom. Freedom from some worries sure, but mostly, freedom to be joyful in all God has done in this story up to now. This wee person in my belly is a marvelous, miraculous soul who also happens to have limbs and features and squish in all the right places. I could pinch myself. I can’t comprehend all of this process, even when we’ve been through it before. I’m just so, so grateful and wildly humbled to get to do this again. My heart is so filled with love for this little one, and I can’t wait (but I can wait) to put that love into practice out here in the world.
And counting…
MM
The Practice of Friendship. (57)
I didn’t end up writing last night, and my guilt lasted far less time than it might have under different circumstances. I had the chance to FaceTime with a dear, dear friend and couldn’t pass it up. As the clock ticked on late into the night, I knew I was less and less likely to get to writing, but our conversation was timely and filling in way my heart needed so much…
The night before last, I sat under the teaching of a very wise and seasoned couple who shared on practices for living in an anxious age. They highlighted four priorities, including reading Scripture, prayer, singing and friendship. I loved hearing their stories about the ways that God has moved through friendship in their lives over time–especially the time when reaching out to two close friends led to the start of a men’s group that began in 1985 and still meets (weekly) to this day. It was so good to be reminded that it’s good and natural not only to need friendship, but to crave it.
On the heels of this teaching, the chance for me to connect with my friend was perfect. For multiple reasons and as a result of hard circumstances over the past year and some months, she and I have been challenged by the distance between our opportunities to talk at length–something we’ve learned to weather reasonably well, but also a scenario we would never wish. We used to see each other multiple times a week, and our continued and regular exchanges for many years led to a friendship that feels more like family. Knowing each other so well and walking through so much life together over the past number of years means our connection is strong. This is work that God has done in our friendship and not something we could just achieve on our own. There are many times when either of us feels a sense of what to pray for the other without talking, or when we both send a message within minutes of the other after a day or two without touching base. There’s no great way to summarize the beauty that this adds to life, but it’s certainly true that our friendship enhances our spiritual walks just as much as it does other aspects in the day to day.
Yesterday came on the heels of an emotional 24 hours for me, and having nearly five hours to catch up with someone who knows me so well was a balm. We always know when we’re overdue to connect (we feel that pretty frequently in this season), but when we do get the chance to share and catch up, there is a lightness in my heart and spirit that doesn’t just arrive on its own. Into the early hours of the morning this morning, I didn’t run out of steam or feel too irresponsible for not getting to bed while still growing this babe…more so, I felt peace wash over me and my sense of self return in a way I really needed. This depth of friendship is a gift I’d hate for either of us to miss, and it’s always been more than worth the effort and intentionality to stay in tune with each other and to find the time we’re able to keep lines of communication open.
It’ll be ten years next year since we first met, and God has done a LOT of growing and shaping in each of our lives over all that time. We’re neither of us the same people that we were so long ago, and I can say that’s in part because of the pruning and accountability that He has allowed through the gift of our friendship. The practice of engaging for the long haul has meant that in these recent years of new territory there was plenty to hang our hats on. Even now, when we see each other face to face so much less than before, it’s a joy to walk this journey of motherhood, family, home life, beauty, hardship, refinement and growth together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Just so grateful for the gifts I don’t deserve, but that God lavishes anyway because He is a good, good Father.
MM
