MollyMadonna.com

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terms and conditions.

Henry is in the middle of what appears to be a three hour (ish) nap. I considered waking him because he’s due to eat (what am I, nuts?), but I decided to blog instead. Now he’s guaranteed to wake up–does the trick every time. Until that fateful moment occurs, I’m going to shed a little light on how I’ve been feeling this past week. Henry is almost ten weeks old, and together, we’ve weathered a lot since he joined us in April. This week (and the week before) were no exception, but I hope that they’re not setting the tone for the days ahead.

I’ll say this first. I. am. exhausted. Not so much physically–but mentally, emotionally and spiritually I’m just drained. It’s not hard to feel semi-rested physically when I only sit, stand, rock, walk and hold a baby all day, and when I’ve gotten better at “sleeping when the baby sleeps.” It’s terribly hard to fill up on the other three though, when I’m constantly focused on Henry’s every need. Much to our chagrin, he did not come with a manual–and as of late there’s been a LOT of trouble-shooting to be done. I feel like I know my son better than anyone else, and I still don’t know him in all of the ways he needs me to these days. I’m sure I’ll feel less this way with future children, but I’m just Henry’s mom for now, and I want to make it all OK, to fix it, to have the answers and to make life a little easier on all of us.

Babies don’t come with a defined set terms and conditions.

Or maybe they do. Love them, feed them, change them, burp them, love them some more. Bathe them, rock them, sing and read to them, stroll them around for awhile, lather, rinse, repeat. I’m not so bad at the feeding/changing/burping/bathing part. I thoroughly enjoy the singing/reading/strolling/rocking parts, and the love part is the easiest of all. So why is it that I can’t sort out life with a tiny little person any better than I’m managing to now?

I know, I know. This too shall pass. And when I’m up in the middle of the night, or feeding for the fifteenth time in one day, I’m absolutely and completely not alone. I just want to want to do this all over again at some point (two or three or four times, maybe), and right now, I can’t see past the next feeding or tonight’s sleep schedule. This week has been HARD. Really hard. And we’re just going to have to put it behind us and move on. There’s a little lesson in every single day.

What’s good about all of this change and adjustment and stress and vulnerability? More than ever, I’m reminded that I have to, I need to pray, pray, pray. And to celebrate the simple things. Simple, like the fact that Henry and I ran a few errands today (gas station, cloth diaper store, Target, Starbucks (necessary, albeit decaf))…and that he only screamed once through the checkout at Target…and that we both made it home in one piece with a month’s worth of paper goods for the house, dog food, new diapers to try and a frappuccino–all without anyone or anything melting in the 90 degree heat. Whew. That IS a step in the right direction!

Tonight when we’re back to feeding and rocking and lulling and soothing, I’m going to keep trying to focus on the only terms and conditions I know to be failsafe in this case:

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1 Thess. 5.16-18 (ESV)

And I’m going to keep praying this:

“Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” Psalm 90.14

so glad i’m not dependent on my own strength,

mm

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drawing strength.

I had a moment tonight, after Henry had been awake for nearly five hours straight and I stood rocking him back and forth in the nursery in the dark, where I found myself thinking, “I just can’t keep doing this. How can I possibly keep doing this?” And as though God sat waiting for me to arrive at that very thought, the little voice in my head reminded me of this, “There is a tremendous supply of strength to draw on from the Lord.”

Oh how I’ve called on God in these past seven weeks as a new mom! Sometimes it’s all I can do to say, “God, I really need you right now,” often without knowing entirely what I’m asking for or how I’m going to get through the next minute or hour if He doesn’t come through. But here I sit. Another day under my belt with a newborn and I’m not a total wreck–at least in the sense that I’m still surviving the hardest parts and figuring things out day by day. Inside though, I’m as broken as ever; I’ve not done anything more trying…then been fulfilled by that very thing at the same time. I’ve never been more tired, more frustrated, or more stretched in my whole life. And I’ve never been more attentive, more loving towards, or more sold out for anything before, either. The peaks and valleys of new-motherhood have permeated every fiber of who I am.

To say that my life is currently defined by this new role as “mommy” is certainly true. But it’s important to note that it’s being refined by it as well. Only in moments when we’re broken do we realize just how much we need God. And it isn’t that we shouldn’t recognize this in the same way regardless of life’s circumstances, but our thirst for God’s presence and our desire to meet Him is certainly heightened when life turns up the heat. Quite positively, God is ready and waiting for us in these moments, too. I’m sure of this tonight as I begged for help just an hour or so ago…my mind has been filled with encouraging Scripture ever since. How important it is then, not only that we call on God, but that we allow His Word to saturate our souls in such a way that we are able to call upon His promises at any turn. The more I prioritize God in my life, the more I am readily able to reach out in confidence that I will hear His voice when I ask for help.

Tonight I am drawing on God’s strength and not my own. Mine is tucked away somewhere…perhaps back a few days or weeks when sleep was more abundant and I couldn’t quite yet see the days ahead. As I fall asleep tonight, I’m going to rest in the promises given to me this evening:

-The Lord is the everlasting God. The Creator of Heaven and Earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of His understanding…Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles, the will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint. Isaiah 40.28 & 31

-I lift my eyes up to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth. Psalm 121.1 & 2

-The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still. Exodus 14.14

indeed. i’m so thankful that God is forever looking after my heart,

mm

(and on the subject of hearts, this little guy continues to grasp tightly to mine…)

 

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one last look at twenty eight.

A year ago tonight, on the eve of my 28th birthday, I sat down at this keyboard to note many of the valuable bits of my twenty-eighth year. I’m prompted to do so again before tomorrow arrives, twenty nine in tow. Upon turning twenty eight, I would not have anticipated what the last 365 days could hold. In this life, with our God, the Creator of the Universe at the helm, a year cannot go by without something of the miraculous in it. A week can’t. A day can’t. And the older I get, the more I understand how much this is true.

I’ve just looked back through a number of blog posts from the past year, and there’s a commonality that crops up in almost all of them: I am in awe of God. I don’t think I consider this as much as I should (although much more so now as I soak in tiny baby features every day with Henry), and I’m grateful to be able to see it in late night writings and random reflections from months ago. This year, with its ups and downs and hardships and joys, has taught me a lot about simplicity and how I crave it–how I desire to strip life down to its bare bones and find what really matters; I want so badly to stop sweating the small stuff, to put down the insignificant, and to wholeheartedly embrace all that is deserving. I want to go after what moves me and changes me, and to do so with a level of contentment and deep passion that I know I’ll have to work hard to achieve. I want to glorify God.

My twenty-ninth year has been all about recognizing what is most important. As an entire little person became and grew and developed in me, as Henry was born and we were suddenly and forever changed as a family, God has used the days to teach me about embracing life through a more focused lens. I am honing in on who I most want to be as a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. And it isn’t that this process hadn’t already begun in me before, but I can see it continuing through every thread. I’m so grateful for the relationships and experiences in this past year that have allowed me to become more and more of who I am, of who I am destined to be.

28 has been very good to me, and God has been abundantly generous. There are so many blessings I could list, but the overwhelming and most powerful gift this year is the one I have always wanted–to carry a child, to be a mom. And now I have Henry every day to remind me of the great duty that I’m called to and the one I most aspire to be. Each day of my 30th year will be spent with this in mind, and I’m so thankful.

In last year’s post, I included the following as highlights of the year before:

-Learning to love in new ways. Learning to accept in new ways. Learning to be more patient, forgiving, gracious, joyful, peaceful, grateful, passionate, determined, surrendered, delighted, open, vulnerable, willing, prayerful, serving, wise, discerning, restrained, empowered, life-filled than I was at 24, 25,26, (27)…

-Being stretched and molded, challenged and frustrated, loved and forgiven, adored and accepted, blessed and protected, guided and sought-after, uplifted and joy-filled, made worshipful and more sanctified by a most Holy and unconditional Creator. After this year, our God is more marvelous to me than ever before, and I have more trust and faith and hope in Him than I ever knew possible.

After 365 more days, these are highlights again. I can only pray to say the same when I look back on 29–and each year following. As I welcome this birthday in the coming hours, I am surrounded by blessings; I see God’s fingerprints on every, single page.

just pregnant (6 weeks), and writing to baby k.

henry, 19 weeks along.

35 weeks pregnant.

welcome, baby!

so in love.

scrunchy, two day old henry. 🙂

henry, 5 weeks old.

oh-so-blessed, and anxious to see what God has in store for my thirtieth year!

mm

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community.

I’ve had a number of conversations this week revolving around community–the idea of it, the significance of it, the way it really impacts our lives and who we are. And the more and more I think about it, the more I’m affirmed in this: I crave community. I really, really do. I love being around people, and more importantly, I need to be around people. Beyond that, I need to share community with people who are authentic, open, and willing to bare themselves emotionally, spiritually and mentally for the sake of honest, deep relationship.

I feel so fortunate that God has created me this way, and I’m fairly certain that if we looked into the heart of every human being, we’d find a similar beat. I’ve met people who act as though they don’t desire community, or as if it’s not essential to their lives, but I truly believe each one of us craves communion and authenticity with others on some level. Surely, we are stretched and grown as individuals, friends, and members of the Body of Christ when we enter into deeper relationship with one another.

As we head into the weekend, and a holiday weekend at that, I’m thinking about all of the interactions I’ll have over the next few days…running into familiar faces downtown, worshipping in church, barbecuing with friends, talking with family over the phone. I don’t just look forward to these opportunities–I thrive on them. Living in community with others is a driving force for joy and a source of purpose in my daily life, and in this season, I am as keenly aware of this as I’ve ever been! I’m so thankful to be blessed with friends and family who contribute to and encourage me in my pursuit of community at every turn.

who’s with me? 🙂

mm

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the day you were born, continued. (day 31)

…Once we settled in, I moved around the room, trying to find the best way to work through each surge as they came. Your daddy and Karlye and I, along with our nurses, functioned very much like a team. Dad and Karlye were almost always at my sides, helping to support me as I moved. I labored with you standing up, squatting, on all fours–any way that felt like it would be best as you moved closer to being born.

Without any medication, I felt every surge like a powerful wave–I could often tell what you needed, and our bodies (yours and mine) worked together through the night to help you into the world. The whole time, I used deep breathing and relaxation techniques that we’d learned in our natural childbirth classes, and Karlye and dad often reminded me to let all of the tension out of my body, which helped me to focus more on you. I even insisted that we play my favorite relaxation CD over and over–it kept me calm in a lot of moments, but I think everyone else was relieved when you were born and we could finally take it off repeat 🙂

I remember so much of that night in crystal clear detail. As the hours went by, I continued to find renewed strength every time I thought about seeing your precious face. Twice in labor, I had a hard time believing that I could give birth to you without any pain relief, but those moments were fleeting. With so much support around me, we made it past that doubt and kept working together until you came. At one point, your heart rate would drop with each surge. Everyone got a little nervous for a few minutes, but I began laboring on my left side and you recovered quickly, and well. We were able to keep going the way we had been, one surge at a time, one deep breath at a time.

Each time that the nurses wanted to check my progress, I decided not to find out how things were moving along. This helped me to stay focused, and to eliminate any discouragement I might have otherwise felt. As it turns out, you were doing beautifully in your own timing. Late into the night, when I asked Karlye how things were coming along, you were right there, ready; we were about to meet you for the first time.

Our doctor that night was one of the doctors from the practice, and she turned out the be the perfect person to help usher you into the world. As the moment got close, she and the nurses began moving around quickly, prepping everything for your arrival. They brought in a mirror, so I could watch as you were born–with every surge you were more present and I was more motivated. Again, we worked together through every push. Our doctor was encouraging in every way, and so were Karlye and your dad. I felt so supported, and I was so excited; even though the pain was intense, it was lessened by the way I felt about having you in my arms. We were almost there!

The minute you were born, our doctor and the nurses had to work a little extra to make sure your shoulders didn’t get hurt on the way. At exactly 3:00am, you made your birthday official, and they lifted you up and onto my chest, rubbing you with towels to warm you up and get you crying. Even in your new, wrinkled, funny-colored state, you were the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. Dad announced, “It’s a boy!” and Karlye took pictures. I counted your fingers and toes. We couldn’t take our eyes off of you.

After a few minutes, dad cut your umbilical cord and you cozied up on top of me. The feeling of your skin on my skin and your hand wrapped around my finger was the greatest thing I’d ever experienced to date. You were finally here! The doctor and nurses wanted to know if you had a name right away, and without hesitation, you were officially Henry David. To look at you was to know that it was the perfect name. You had been Henry all along.

When the nurse weighed and measured you, we were surprised to find out that you were nine pounds! Your official stats were 9lbs. 0 oz., and 20.5 inches long. I memorized the numbers that I’d soon be sharing in phone call after phone call as we let friends and family know you had arrived. Things in the room quickly quieted down. Karlye made her way home, everything was cleaned up and after a while, we were left to have time as a family, just us. Life as we knew it would never, ever be the same, and we were thrilled about it!

On the day you were born, you were celebrated in grand fashion as we shared the news with everyone we love. Your grandmas and grandpas came all the way from Chicago to meet you before you were even 24 hours old. You made April 25th a red letter day for each one of us–the first day of your life will always be marked as one of the most perfect days in mine.

Henry David, you are the most wonderful, miraculous, heaven-sent little boy, and the best gift that God could have ever given us as a family. We are different for having you and knowing you, and our lives will be forever enhanced by yours. As your mommy, I could not have asked for anything more wonderful than the task of learning you and loving you, each and every day.

Today you’re a month old and I can hardly believe it! We’ve been through a lot together already, and there is so much more to come. The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace. Num. 6.24-26

love you forever, like you for always, as long as i’m living…

your mommy (mm)