MollyMadonna.com

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motivation. (60)

I am harboring a little engine that could. He or she hides in my belly from the outside world, but on the inside is all flips and twists and turns and bumps. I don’t love the feeling of bone against bone as baby lodges a foot in my right ribcage–nor do I enjoy urgent races to the bathroom because my bladder has become a trampoline, but I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit to loving the feeling of our little one in all of his or her livelihood on a daily…no, hourly, basis.

I first felt baby move at a mere 13 weeks along–a teeny, tiny flutter that I doubted, then clung to with great joy as life became so tangible in a very short period of time. By 16 weeks, I was insistent that Jason try to feel the baby himself, even though movement was still too subtle and soft for him to detect. And at 18 weeks, right after Thanksgiving, we watched together as baby kicked and visibly said “hello” to the world for the first time. Since then, I have marveled at the little one’s persistence and growth and energy–certainly a zest for life that he or she probably doesn’t understand right now, and one that I can’t get enough of as “mom.”

31 weeks + on down the line, and baby is as mobile and persistent as ever; my belly moves and bends and reshapes at his or her every whim. Feet and elbows and head and bottom all make themselves obvious from morning to night, and as one friend reflected when I first announced I was pregnant, “Pregnancy is wonderful. When you’re pregnant, you are never, ever lonely.” How true it is!

There are days at this point when I feel ready to be finished toting the babe around on the inside–moments when I just want to meet the peanut and have my stomach back as I remember it from not all that long ago. But with every kick and jab and roll, I am more and more motivated to wait it out, too. I know there’s nothing I can do about God’s timing or the gestation period of a baby or when the little one will grace us and our lives. Still, it’s remarkably comforting to feel peaceful even when I’m outgrowing tops and requiring far more room in small spaces than I once used to.

Baby has been great motivation in so many ways, and I am convinced that this is part of God’s grand plan as people become parents. In a nine-ish month span of time, we’re motivated to want to do more, become more, grow more, mature more, love more. We’re naturally inclined to organize and prepare, plan and hope, clean and conquer. While we’ll never “arrive” before babies do, or before they challenge us in completely new ways, the process is beautiful and humbling and sacred.

Today is March 1st, and the start of a new month, and the last of the 60’s in the countdown to baby. And I am motivated beyond measure to embrace the days that remain. Spring is around the corner. There is a slight freshness on the air. And there is a constant nudging from the inside reminding me that what is greatest and most pleasing and most wonderful is yet to come.

playing chauffeur for eight and half(ish) more weeks,

mm

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showered. (69)

Yesterday, some of the loveliest women I know all came together to celebrate the soon-to-be arrival of Baby K. It was a humbling, God-honoring, energizing few hours, and I was so, so blessed to be in the company of beautiful friends and family. I have no doubt that our little one will be surrounded by more love and care than I could ever ask for…a testament to the relationships that bless my life and encourage me to grow as a Christ-follower, wife, mother, friend, daughter, and granddaughter.

My dear friend Jen was a most gracious host; she threw a party with her usual flair and thoughtful touches–ones that reaffirm just a fraction of the reasons why I love her so much. She knows me as few others do, not only for all of my idiosyncrasies and vulnerabilities, but for my tastes and likes and style as well. Consequently, it was no surprise that every detail appealed to my senses and felt personal and “just right.” If we had celebrated on white paper plates and with little decoration I would still have been grateful, but every aspect was so lovingly prepared…from the diaper cake…

i especially love little Sophie the giraffe...friend of big Sophie--a nursery "must have" 🙂

…to the food…

sophisticated dirt for dessert! aren't they pretty in mini mason jars?

…to the flowers and decorations and games…

beautiful! (and so spring-inspired 🙂

simply lovely. precious newborn pics of one of my favorite babes didn't hurt a bit either 🙂

oh, baby!

and whoa, baby! look at that belly grow! playing the string game to guess how big the peanut is getting.

And then of course, our little one was so lovingly showered with beautiful and thoughtful gifts–some for fun and lots to cherish, and others just perfect for meeting baby’s upcoming needs…

overwhelming generosity.

custom nursery bedding on its way from grandma t (a.k.a. mom:)

and the cuddliest giraffe ever from great gramma donna. a baby k favorite, i'm certain!

My favorites part of the afternoon, though? Just being so surrounded and supported in love and prayer by Godly women. Jen read a scripture over our growing bundle and touched on the very thing that makes all of this so amazing…this baby has been planned for and created, loved and nurtured by God–since long before he or she even came to be in my womb:

psalm 139.13-16

jen reading psalm 139 for baby k. i love the sun in this picture!

it's possible i cried. but sometimes i'm just overjoyed by the thought of God's hand on our babe...

I have some of the best friends in the world. And I love being able to share this time with them.

 

jen and me. undoubtedly kindred spirits. one of my life's greatest joys.

bekah and me. two week apart bellies and faithful friends. God has absolutely woven our lives together 🙂

We are so abundantly blessed, and I couldn’t ask for more.

showered in the very best of ways,

mm

 

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letting go. (78)

Today has kind of taken on a theme of its own, without much coaxing or thought from me. I suppose a lot of days are like that, but today it’s strikingly obvious because nearly every conversation I’ve had has touched on the idea of letting go. Sometimes I look for something so hard that I can’t see past my own self to find it. Today is not one of those days.

I had coffee with a friend this morning, and I love that this particular friendship always comes back to conversation about growth and encouragement where faith is concerned. I don’t think we intend to set out on the same topic every time, and it comes about in different ways, but inevitably, we land on faith-related issues. Today we reflected on the ways that God comes alongside of us most evidently when we’re willing to surrender. We make room for Him to guide us, and then He takes over the driver’s seat. There are places in each of our lives right now where this seems so evident, and it’s celebratory and exciting and powerful to witness. We are, both of us, trying hard to trust and let go in new areas of our lives on a regular basis, and the opportunity to share what God is doing reminds us that the path is important. We are better off letting go.

As a side note, a bagel and coffee are always delightful, but they taste much better in the company of a good friend 🙂

From there, I went into a meeting that I might have dreaded a few months ago. Today, I let go of something I’ve been trying to make work–to hold onto for the sake of possibility and the fear of disappointment, for nearly a year. The conversation was natural and honest and ultimately, releasing. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about for having it, but on the other side of my meeting, I am altogether more peaceful and joyful for recognizing my limitations and being honest with myself and others. There have been seasons where I’ve prayed about this in depth, agonized over it at length and pushed through it so as not to feel like I’d somehow failed. This week, things just suddenly became very clear for me and I realized that to keep force-feeding it would have been the real failure. The result of letting go in this instance? The opportunity to continue nurturing relationships and ministry without the burden I was carrying. I’m breathing more deeply already.

Next? Lunch. A delightful lunch with three incredible ladies in celebration of Baby K and the new developments in each of our lives. Appropriately, we landed on the subject of parenthood and adjusting to the idea of going with the flow in the process. This kind of letting go comes into play where baby and nursery and organizational plans are concerned, and it was good to be encouraged by three experienced moms on the subject. They reminded me that we’re (Jason and I) still young, that we’re doing just fine, and that we’ll never arrive–even after three or four children come our way. I know this to be true, but it still helps to check myself on this one with people I trust. Nothing is more important than having enough love to usher baby into this world; the rest will likely take care of itself. Over soup and salad and a sense of gratitude for the way that God has blessed my life with such beautiful people, I was reminded that I’m free to let go of the details and to focus on the nurturing and loving and mothering that I’m called to be about–both now and in a few more months when it’s all that much more tangible and real.

So. Letting go. The perfect “theme” for a Friday as I head into the weekend, and the perfect theme for my life as I process eleven more weeks (or so) before we’re “mom and dad” forever.

I’m letting go of a few worries, some control, measures of doubt. And I’m relinquishing a bit of fear, a sense of failure, and the burden that comes with wanting so much to be just right. It will be, in its time, if I just let it.

opening up these hands again,

mm

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instinct. (79)

I don’t know if it’s just instinctive, or simply timely, but my inclination to protect and defend family blazes bright and strong these days. No matter the cause (this almost seven months along belly, perhaps?), I’ve determined it a necessary, beautiful and natural thing.

I had lunch with one of my favorite people in the world today, and over the course of our conversation, I shared some things that have my heart torn. When I want to do what’s best for everyone, and I’m after the resolution that equals the most love and the least misunderstanding or hurt, I sometimes compromise what my heart says for the sake of someone else’s. This, in theory, is my best attempt at being selfless–and admittedly, is sometimes my attempt at keeping peace at the same time. And it isn’t always bad…not when the outcome will delight another person or be the best scenario for the greater good. But it becomes dangerous when I stop honoring or protecting myself and/or the people closest to me.

I used to miss the red flags that would clue me into this potential risk. In the past, this has inevitably led to more heartache, the necessity for reconciliation, and turmoil within my spirit that is hard to undo overnight. Jeopardizing myself or putting pressure on my marriage for the sake of peace elsewhere only costs more frustration–and requires major withdrawals from the trust account in the long run. (These are ultimately harder to replace than to protect.) In other words, it’s not worth it to shrug off protecting my family for the temporary comfort of someone or something else. I grow much more keenly aware of this as I get older, and as I look more towards home and family.

I hope I’m making sense.

Being pregnant and expecting a baby have drawn me inward in a good way. I’m still the extroverted, conversational, social person that I’ve always been. But creating life between two people does something that is terribly hard to explain in words. As I have grown to love our child, admired what both God and my body are capable of, and recognized Jason and I as more of a team than ever before, I have become “mother hen” over all of these things. I want to protect our little one, of course, and I would do anything to ensure our baby’s safety and health and joy if I could. I also want to secure our home and our marriage in new ways, though, too–to protect the love and intimacy and growth between Jason and I, and to see the red flags as they’re raised, before it’s too late to prevent hurt or heartache. This transfers to my physical self as well, as it has evolved into this vessel for new life and strength and hope. I’m more protective of sleep, more conscientious of what I take in, more thoughtful about what I contribute to the world and how I will make it a better place for our children, and our children’s children. And all of this is happening in its own time, as organically as any other natural process. God is working overtime on me.

To say that I am changing as much on the inside as I have on the outside is probably fair. To say that I’m surprised by it is reasonably fair, too. Making decisions for my own sake feels much easier than making decisions that directly or indirectly impact our family unit, but making decisions for the three of us gives me a new kind of peace. And while it’s sometimes harder on my heart or my emotions or my free will to take every aspect into consideration, it actually feels better to be calculated and careful and protective of the people I love the most.

Being drawn towards home and what we have created here is a beautiful thing–one that God is cultivating and strengthening in me daily. It doesn’t come without struggle or growing pains, but I’m grateful for the change anyway. And on days like today, when I know what my heart says but I need to be encouraged that it’s ok to honor my own voice, I’m grateful for friends who aren’t afraid to be honest–ones who encourage the instinct and delight in helping me find my way.

appreciating the process,

mm

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grace. (89)

I’m summoning a LOT of grace tonight. Praying it into my life and head and heart and really, really hoping that when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll sense it good and strong. I went to bed last night feeling achy and cranky and not excited to end the weekend, and I woke up today trying to shake it off. It’s getting close to Tuesday now, but I’m still feeling the same way. Today wasn’t a bad day, just a very, very long one. And it left little room for decompressing and just “being”–something I realize I’ve come to need very much these days.

I had a little conversation with God on the way home from work tonight, at 7pm, before dinner and errands and arriving here at this blog post just before midnight. I think I said something like, “Ok, I don’t know how to do this…to have such full days and to feel like I do and to want to be able to solve everything at the same time…and I just can’t, God. So I’m trusting you to help me; I know you can. And I’m sorry I don’t talk to you enough about all of this. And I’m going to be home in a few minutes, so please just give me energy to figure out dinner and to do the things that need to get done…” I’m sure it went on a bit more from there, but you get the gist. Sometimes your breaking point is a tragic event, and sometimes it’s being 6.5 months pregnant and needing to figure out dinner.

On the way to the grocery store later, I asked Jason not to make me laugh. You’d think after a day like today, laughing would be the very best thing. But the truth is, it physically hurts to laugh these past few days as baby grows up into my ribcage. I feel like I’ve just done 300 crunches after a long hiatus and I’m paying for it. Instead of laughing, I just kind of wanted to cry instead.

I’m sure all of this is hard to be around–when you’re a husband just trying to make sure your wife is decently comfortable and happy as you watch her morph into a signigficantly different version of her former self. It’s totally not Jason’s fault that my stomach hurts, but he’s the one that gets to deal with me when it happens. And he’s the one pushing the cart around the grocery store with me after 10pm and loading things into the car and unloading them when we get home. Grace. Without it we would be hopeless. With it, we get somewhere (like to the end of this day) having overcome the bumps in the road somehow.

Tomorrow is another day. And within it, there will be plenty more room for grace. Until then, I’ve required a lot for one day and am feeling a bit like I’ve met my quota. The best sounding thing in the world right now is our bed, and a little bedtime story for the babe, and a little comfort knowing that we’re all safe and warm in this house at the end of the day, together. Kruger will curl up on his bed, and we’ll curl up in ours. Baby will do his or her dance routine long after we fall asleep, and in the morning, we’ll all wake up with another fresh start and another day at hand. And there’s a LOT of grace in that.

still summoning,

mm