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Let’s Be Noticers. (28)

This morning we came downstairs and E gasped as I opened the blinds to our slider door: “Mom!! There’s a bald eagle!!!” and sure enough, one had just flown past our deck. We watched as it circled back around before flying over the water and away between houses. The timing was pretty perfect and the eagle was amazing; we couldn’t have contrived that moment on our own. But the fact that E saw it and celebrated it so excitedly was a gift in and of itself. It felt like a very good start to the day as we all hurried on to breakfast and off to take her to camp.

H has been away all week at overnight camp, so when I dropped E off today, I hadn’t seen H since Monday morning. I’ve been intentional all week about not being a shadow parent, but I’ll admit that I hoped I might catch at glimpse of him at least once during our twice daily drop-offs and pick-ups. As I walked back to the car after saying goodbye to E, I noticed H’s group sitting up on a balcony having breakfast, and I made the conscious decision not to call out to him or try to get his attention. “We pick him up in the morning,” I thought to myself. Then I sat in the car for a few minutes sending a quick email off to him instead. Just before I started to drive away, he came back out to the balcony alone, eating what was probably the last few bites of this morning’s cereal. Since he was by himself, I opted to shout a quick, “HD!” out the car window, and he turned around to offer me a big smile, a wave and an air kiss. My heart! I quickly waved and blew a kiss back, the window back up in a matter of seconds so as not to embarrass him, when he gestured to me to open it up again. “Where’s C?!” he asked. It was so sweet and sensitive of him to even think of it. And of all days this week, our littlest buddy was at home with dad, so I told H quickly, shouted a “Love you!” and headed off. It was a 20 second exchange, tops. But it was just what I didn’t know my heart needed, and if I hadn’t felt the nudge to stay just a few minutes longer, we both would have missed it.

From there I headed to my 36(!) week appointment and my first non-stress test. It was such grace to have everything check out as it should. Listening to baby’s heartbeat for 20 minutes on the monitor was an unexpected way to connect with our babe that I enjoyed so much–another gift among gifts stacking up, all before mid-morning. I came home to find a little bench sitting by the window just inside the front door. C came running, and I asked him what the bench was doing at the window. “I was watching and waiting for you to come home!” he said sweetly. A little while later upon his request, C and I spontaneously snuggled up on the couch to watch videos of owls “to learn facts about them.” All the while he cuddled his newest favorite lovey–a beanie baby owl of mine from years ago that I found in the basement while digging out baby items yesterday. For the rest of the day, he shared owl facts with everyone. What a joy! Just the kinds of things mama dreams are made of, right? And especially when feeling oh-so-pregnant and relishing in every good and beautiful thing or distraction or moment. So many graces.

This afternoon after the last day of day camp pickup for E, we stopped at our favorite blueberry farm for a quick picking session to snag some berries for the weekend. While E and I picked together, I mentioned that I could stay there all day, out in the quiet calm of the field. A few minutes later, E said to me, “It’s so peaceful out here. So quiet. And listen! Now the birds are singing for us and there are so many blueberries!…” She is a girl after my own heart. It was a perfect moment. We’d found a shady spot to pick out of the sun and were filling our bucket with July’s goodness, one handful at a time, together. I have the sweetest memories of picking berries with a very round belly twice before, and doing it again just feels like exactly where I’m supposed to be at this time of year. It’s a little slice of heaven every time.

It is one of my core values to live in wonder with our children, and when God makes a way for that desire of my heart to be filled, it’s just one of the best feelings ever as a mom. Part of my intention to live in wonder is to make a big deal out of little things that really matter because they point to God’s creation–a butterfly landing in a bush in the front garden, a family of baby killdeer running around in the sand, the smoothest rock on a rocky beach, the way the cucumbers grow from their flowers and the zinnias have gotten so tall. Together, we’ve cultivated a habit of noticing and sharing in the things worth noting together, and it’s probably one of the aspects of my motherhood I feel most confident about. Every time one of the kids points out a unique bug (or in C’s case the other day, a dragonfly exoskeleton), a small animal, a perfect flower or someone’s pretty dress, we celebrate the beautiful in the ordinary, and it makes the days resonate with gratitude in ways I’m afraid we’d miss otherwise.

I always want to be someone who celebrates beauty when I see it. I want our kids to know that it matters to notice the good, everywhere we can find it. I can’t wait to open up a whole new book of wonder as we bring home a tiny babe once more and everyone can watch first hand as he or she joins our family, grows and discovers. Our kiddos are going to be the best teachers to this little one, and it’s because they’ve embraced the art of noticing. It’s a joy to be out in the world together, where we all see things with different eyes and find wonder in different directions at the same time. Sometimes the noticing is what gets us through, and it feels like God offers little nudges of His goodness all of the time so that it’s there if we’re willing to seek and grasp it. I’m so thankful there were so many lovely things to pay attention to today. Outside of them, the day was quite ordinary–or it could have been.

So grateful for these days with our babies. My heart overflows when I think about the goodness of it all.

MM

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Encouragement. (29)

“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43.19 (NLT)

“For the Lord your God is going with you! He will fight for you against your enemies, and he will give you victory!” Deuteronomy 20.4 (NLT)

“He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord.” Psalm 40.3 (NLT)

“So take courage! For I believe God. It will be just as he said.” Acts 27.25 (NLT)

“God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.” Psalm 46.5 (ESV)

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41.10 (ESV)

“Abraham never wavered in believing God’s promise. In fact, his faith grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God. He was fully convinced that God is able to do whatever he promises.” Romans 4.20-21 (NLT)

“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.” Psalm 62.5-8 (NLT)

“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14.14 (NIV)

There are so many verses in the Bible that are rich with encouragement and hope in any situation, but these have stuck out to me over the past number of months, so I decided to leave them here tonight. Maybe they’re a reminder you needed today, or maybe they’re here for me to refer to all at once when I need an extra dose of security and strength. Either way, God’s Word is living and active, and it can always reach us where we need it, when we need it. I’m so thankful for this manna in my own life and in the lives of those around me. When the world is noisy and distracting, here is where we can place our trust and hope.

I pray this finds you well tonight.

MM

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Writing the Story. (30)

All this time, I’ve been in what feels like the middle of a story. Living in the midst of my thought life, my spiritual life and my real, everyday life through these months of my seventh pregnancy, I have tried to look towards the future and can only see tiny snippets of what is to come. It’s been hard to let my heart go to the most hopeful place every time, though I’ve worked to lean into that as much as I can. It’s something, to be hopeful in a way that pushes down fear and presses out doubt. And I’ve tasted it, but not always, and not every day. Some are hard fought, while others come with a peace that only God can offer me.

As the days count down to August and baby, I am coming more and more to terms with this reality being what’s actually true. I didn’t think about the details of the day getting closer because I couldn’t. I could trust God past what I could see, and He’s done that work in me, but I couldn’t get all the way to August 20th or anything that comes after, not really. I’m starting to, and still it’s not without reservation. I’ve had all the conversations with myself time and time again–reminded myself of what I’ve heard God say, replayed what I know about who He is, come across scripture on the exact right days, always being nudged that what His Word says is true. I believe it. And the human part of me has still had to stretch to trust and believe that a gift this good could come our way and actually arrive. God gives good gifts, and I know this deeply. So what is changing in me?

Today, as I was driving, I realized that my letting go of so many of the details might not be my inability to trust in them or believe them. It’s that I actually do believe that God is who He says He is and that He’ll do what He says He will do. Does it feel vulnerable to believe this sometimes? 100% yes. And is it still worth it? More than I’ll probably ever understand. It feels risky to take God at his word, which almost feels foolish to even say. But if I walk into August believing and trusting what I’ve heard from God, then I’m also open to disappointment, or maybe even heartache, right? And He’s still sovereign in every detail.

A little whisper crossed my path today and planted the thought that I’m not actually walking in the middle of this story. I’m at the very beginning. We are about to meet this person who has grown inside of me since November. We’re about to break through the narrow space between womb and world, and to know–to actually know–this person who God created to be here for such a time as this. Beyond that, I’m about to get to mother this tiny human who matters even more to God than they do to me. That feels unfathomable, after all of these weeks and months praying and hoping and holding my breath sometimes, but it’s true. I’m at the beginning of this story. We’re just getting started on a journey God planned for us long ago. How could I not be amazed by this reality?

To trust that the day will come is a bigger step for me, even still, than I ever wanted it to be. There have been many days where I’ve just had to relinquish all of the details to God and set them down entirely, because I can’t go there, and if I do, it just feels messy and hard. But that’s the beauty in this. Things will keep going along as God intends whether I’ve overthought every facet of this life change or not. To not be in any kind of control is actually so freeing I can hardly grasp it. I don’t control this, and I never did. Doesn’t that make the story so much better? I get to be in it and to watch it unfold, but it’s out of my hands on so many levels. The details of that day to come are known to God, and nothing will surprise Him.

People ask me often now how much longer until baby, and I always give a ballpark answer, because I know the date on the calendar is just a date. But it’s also because I’m trusting my intuition that I have a sense about this baby and their arrival. I know what I’d like the answer to be, and I know that it’s not my decision to make. God knows this baby’s birthday. He knows the time of day that my labor begins. He knows who is there and who delivers this life and whether or not we welcome a boy or a girl. He knows how long it all takes, how I heal, what the moment looks like when we bring baby home from the hospital to meet siblings. He is the author of this story, and while He’s been writing my life for a long time now, this is a new volume He’s kept waiting for the exact right moment. It’s like waiting until Christmas morning, only better, because His gifts are the purest kind.

I’m so humbled to have a part in this story at all. I don’t think I know how to feel about that right now besides fortunate, and that’s a healthy place to rest. There are many details stirring in my mind, and while it’s ok to think about them, I can also let them go. He has this. He has me. And He has this tiny baby right close…closer than my belly, closer than a due date, closer than I’ll ever actually know.

Peace and rest for all hearts tonight, dear friends. He’s writing your story, too.

MM

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Little Moments. (31)

I’ll start right out the gate and say that I’m not feeling like I have a ton to share tonight. Some days are just better for my mind frame than others, and as the day has gone on, I’m feeling more uncomfortable and less inspired. At least that’s an honest and accurate representation of where we are coming up on 36 weeks along.

Today had some beautiful moments in it for sure, and I don’t want them to get lost in the discomfort. E had a great day at camp and can’t wait to go back. C and I had the chance to head to the beach this morning with friends and it was so life-giving to see the kids running, laughing, playing and sliding down the dune together. A monarch floated around us and returned a handful of times as we all visited in the sand. The sun was shining, the temperature by the water was perfect, and the sky was 100% blue. C dragged a washed up buoy all the way home as a treasure, which was endearing to say the least. These sweetnesses are extra sweet with the opportunity to slow down, recognize and soak them in. I think it’s possible that we’ll never take visits with our friends for granted again–not after this past year–and that’s a gift in and of itself. Each time we take a picture of the kids together, we marvel at our very steadfast dreams materializing before our eyes. It’s the sacred in and amongst the ordinary, and the space feels thin between.

This afternoon, I was working in the baby’s room and C was reading from the stack of board books waiting to be stored in the closet for future reading sessions. He was talking about how much he liked Goodnight Moon and I asked him if he would help me to read stories to the baby sometime. His reply was so honest and I love him for it: “I know big brothers are supposed to help, but I don’t really want to do that.” I am loving my conversations with him these days. He has so much to say when it’s just the two of us, and he regularly uses words like “similar” and “injury” and vocabulary that still sometimes surprises me coming from his four year old self. I don’t think it’s just the baby coming that has this effect, but the timing feels ironic–C is growing up in a way that I can tangibly see right now, and it’s strange to have it be so palpable and permanent. He’s been my little buddy for so long…I’m certainly not ready to let go of that part of who we are together anytime soon.

We made tuna melts for dinner tonight and introduced the kids to Full House (the original). I don’t think I ever realized growing up just how quirky the whole show really was, but our littles seemed to enjoy it. A throwback to the 1980s and tuna melts and watermelon for dinner–that’s life in our house right now. H is away at camp all week and things don’t feel the same without him, but I’m grateful that he can be in his own element in this timing. I hope it’s functioning as a respite and refreshment for him. He’s craving friend time and I have no doubt that the changes around here pile up for a ten year old learning to stretch his wings. We are missing him while he’s gone and will be thrilled to see him and welcome him back in a few days. Meanwhile, we’re plugging along and doing life with our younger two here in the middle of summer.

I am eager to get some sleep tonight and also eager to put the final coat of paint on the dresser upstairs. We’re getting there, even with all of the middle parts that sometimes feel like trudging or crawling along. Maybe this is being still, in a way. If it is, I’m needing the practice and very glad for the moments when I can lean into it instead of resisting what’s best for me.

Tomorrow is another new day, probably ready with a handful of simple delights if I’m looking for them. I plan to be looking for them.

MM

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Some Things Don’t Change (and I Guess Some Things Do). (32)

I’m pretty sure that each pregnancy now I’ve shared about a converted piece of furniture, so why not keep tradition alive? I don’t think I know how to birth a baby without redoing or purchasing a repurposed dresser first. I’m not sure why it’s always a dresser, but maybe that’s practical. I mean, there has to be a place to put all of baby’s things, right?

Buying a dresser was on my radar again this time around, but not for the nursery. I assumed baby would sleep in our room for a while, and I wanted a piece that was changing table height to be multifunctional. While we were away in April, I saw an ideal-looking dresser newly-posted on Instagram by a thrift store I enjoy. Never does it work out that you’re the first one to comment and place a hold on items like this, so I halfheartedly called to see if it had already sold. As luck would have it, it was still available and I bought it over the phone, essentially sight unseen. This feels risky when it’s a piece of furniture that I’ve never looked at closely, smelled the inside of, or tested out for hiccups. Still, we came home a week later and lo and behold, this dresser was everything I’d hoped. It was a super lucky find for the right price at the right time. And now that it’s up in our room, I still love it as much as I did the first time it caught my eye. It’s mid-century modern, the wood is in beautiful condition and the drawers are in amazing shape. I happily figured I’d end my dresser search there.

Fast forward to a month or two ago and J suggested that we’d want a changing table in the baby’s room. I have to say, the thought hadn’t really crossed my mind. I’d just figured that by a few months in, we’d be changing baby on the floor and not need a surface. Generally, I find reasonably-priced changing tables to be somewhat unattractive, so after a few half-hearted attempts at looking, I shifted into dresser mode again. I went out in search of a quick and easy solution the day after the 4th of July. I actually prayed on the way out that if I was supposed to bring a dresser home, I know so because I’d find one that fit the bill for a really great price. I had in mind to make two stops, max, and then to call it a day. On my first stop, I made a pass through the store and spotted a dresser that seemed just the right size. The wood was solid, the drawers were in good shape, and when I turned the price tag over, it had been marked down from $260 to $74. I’m not sure why I even debated it at that point. Sold. I’m sure the girl at the shop and I were quite the sight getting it into the back of the car, but we did it. And then I brought it home and proceeded to debate it for a week, until not having a dresser in the nursery started to stress me out. I know, I sound a bit off my rocker. The rocker will be a subject for another day. In the meantime, I’m just trying to capture the “essence” of this stage of pregnancy, and apparently dresser decisions are right at the top of the list of things I worry about. Go figure.

Today, the dresser is on a drop cloth, smack in the middle of the baby’s room, with a newly painted top and further revisions about to take place tonight and tomorrow. I have a thing. I don’t know how to explain it or why. What I do know is that getting this dresser sorted out feels like the lynch pin in a process I’m just so anxious to finish. The room is really not that complicated and I just want it done. I might even dare to say I need it done, in that I’m not feeling peaceful about anything in its place since it’s not actually there. And if this little one is going to arrive in the next month, I guess I’d better get moving. What a weird space to be in, feeling like this. But I am, and it’s what it is.

Aside from my being consistent about dressers and things, something that’s new to the picture lately are the Braxton Hicks I’m getting nightly. I wouldn’t share this fact if I thought I was close to labor. I’m sure I’m not. But fourth pregnancy this far along and the body knows what the body knows. This is a great sign that things will be in working order in a few weeks. Meanwhile, I think I’m making people around me nervous unintentionally each time I note another contraction. We could do this all the way up until August 20th, people. That would be akin to the last two weeks of my pregnancy with C, only right now they’re just sprinkled throughout the evening and not lasting hours on end. That was really something, and while every ounce of it was worth it, I don’t plan to live that story down to the detail again. We’re aiming for something else this time around. Since every birth story is totally different, I think we’re safe to assume that this sweet little tale will have its own purposeful ending, too, but I’m getting ahead of myself now. For tonight, it’s the dresser. And bedtime. And tomorrow, it’s a drop-off and a playdate and work to-dos and probably more painting. One. Day. At. A. Time. It’s really what’s best–certainly in this season, and probably always.

MM