MollyMadonna.com

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muscles. (41)

Sitting here tonight and reflecting on today…wondering what exactly represents the past 24 hours, and what might be important to remember about this particular day in the scope of 100 on my journey towards baby. To be honest, not a whole lot stood out at first–until I went to reach for something and my stomach muscles protested strongly against it. The movement made me consider how I’ve felt lately–physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and the truth is, it’s been tough to flex any of these muscles with strength this weekend.

Yesterday was busy, busy, busy, and by the end of it, I was physically taxed to capacity. Today I woke up feeling much better, but the 90+ degree heat quickly squelched much hope of optimum physical energy. It was just a bit muggy to be at 100%. Mentally, I think I’m just working through so many details and ideas in my head that I’m not really giving myself a break–my mental muscles are getting a good workout every day, but it would be fun to give them a rest. Maybe when baby comes, I figure. Perhaps then I’ll be busy enough nursing that my time in the rocking chair each day will provide a desired level of mental space. I remember reading and thinking a lot when Henry was small–simply because I spent countless hours rocking with the bug. There’s certainly something to look forward to a few weeks from now!

I may be tapped out physically and mentally at the moment, but the muscles I’d like to bulk up the most are the spiritual and emotional ones. Spiritually, I feel reasonably well–I just need to keep trusting God and having enough faith that He will meet me where I am and where I need Him in every moment. And I need to remember days like Friday, when God makes it entirely apparent that He wants me to know He sees me. I especially need to lean on Him as I think toward the day baby arrives…that space, all of the details, the people who will surround us, things with Henry while we’re away at the hospital. Of course God has all of that handled and knows how it will go. So why is it still so hard for me to think that way in the day to day?

And then there’s my emotional muscles. These are getting a great workout, but not in the way I’d like to make a regular habit. I am SO weepy over things. Things at home and in our daily lives, acts of grace and kindness, worship music in church today. I’ve cried three times in the past 8 hours, and I just do not feel like myself in this way. It’s funny what pregnancy will do to you. Thank goodness Jason has been understanding and gracious each time…I’m like a fish out of water, and ready for the tears to slow themselves a bit post-baby.

All this being said, my muscles are achy in most ways as they flex and stretch and challenge the norm in this stage of being pregnant. I’m trying to learn to be patient with myself, but there are plenty of moments when that’s hard. Six more weeks or so to go, and I’m plenty grateful that I might have some of my *regular* muscles back after a bit. In the meantime, looks like I’ll just have to work hard at being patient with myself and those around me–and I’ll surely need to borrow some muscle power from God in the process.

getting my fair share of exercise,

mm

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six point five. (46)

Six and one half–the approximate number of weeks left before we meet the Button. Maybe. In the wee hours of the morning this morning, I was blessed to work with another couple and to witness another beautiful birth. They never get old or boring–each one different and breathtaking as moms and dads work together to bring their babies into the world. The fact that I get to play a part in such an intimate and once-in-a-lifetime moment gets me every single time. It’s like walking on sacred ground. Perhaps as God ushers new life into the world, it is.

And I can’t help but think, so fresh from the hospital and another birth experience–on the same day that one of my closest friends has delivered her sweet new baby boy, too, that it’s only a matter of weeks for me. Just weeks for this little one I’ve been trying to get to know as I carry him or her around in every moment. The joy of our time when Henry was first born feels new again–my heart is more and more ready for those nights on the couch, those snuggly days, the haze of life with a newborn as we all settle in.

I’m thankful that God orchestrates this work such that we’re ready when the time comes. Ready to welcome our babies, and ready to close the door on another season of growing a tiny human (who feels just huge at this end of pregnancy stage:). It’s amazing how, when we see them in real life, everything is once again miniature and put into perspective…in the same way that when they’re growing inside of us, each baby feels larger than life.

I doubt I’ll know all of these kicks and prods and rolls and jabs so personally ever again–not with this baby, anyway. After this carrying season, everything will feel delicate and fragile, unlike the little ball of energy and movement I’m toting now. I do share on occasion when things are painful or physically more difficult, but really, I’m embracing so much of what is happening. No doubt I flashed forward to my (our) own impending sacred moment as I watched this mom and dad embrace their sweet baby today. It was a welcome reminder.

What a crazy, blessed gift we have in mothering. The process is challenging, sure, but the outcome far outweighs anything that 40 weeks could offer.

getting there. sure and steady. and finding a renewed sense of excitement and joy tonight,

mm

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someday i’ll tell you. (52)

Dear Baby,

For the first thirty years of my life, this date marked the celebration of a very special person on my calendar. For the past two July 3rds, the day has become more of a reminder…a chance to take pause and recall all of the beauty that one amazing lady once added to my life. She was my grandma–your great grandma, and I so wish you two had had the chance to meet.

Someday, I’ll tell you all about Gramma Donna–how she was the center of our family, the glue that always held everyone together. I’ll tell you about all of the times I’d call her just to say hello, and how we’d get off of the phone hours later, after catching up on everything under the sun. I’ll try to recreate for you the kinds of sleepovers I remember having at Gramma’s house when I was young–the strips of buttered toast, dipped in hot chocolate in the dim light of the kitchen after Grandpa had gone to bed, the countless bags of burnt peanuts, the little ways she made you feel like you were the most important person in the world on every single visit. I’ll share about how she was one of my very best friends, how I leaned on her for wisdom and a safe place, and how we were always welcome at her door. You would have adored her, and no doubt, she would have loved you like crazy, too. She couldn’t get enough of babies. Her heart was always big enough. Her table, always full.

No matter where I was traveling from, her kitchen always felt like home.

I’ll never forget the smell of her linen closet or the way everything was perfectly folded and in impeccable order. Some of those very same towels and sheets from my childhood days at Gramma’s are now sitting folded–still untouched after leaving her linen closet, in a basket in ours. I don’t want to unfold them or use them or wash them because if I linger close enough, the mark of her is still there, a year and a half after losing her. I can’t tell you I’ve ever had to say goodbye to someone who felt closer or more kindred than she. Even now, the remembrance of her is both beautiful and hard.

I wish that you had ever known her laugh, or the way she wrapped packages, prepared a holiday meal, poured herself into her family. She left a legacy that, for me, is something I’ll aspire to with you and your siblings and your children for years to come. I miss her grace. Her decorum. Her extra tight, extra long hugs at the end of a visit.

You never know how much time you’re going to be given with someone you love, sweet baby, so I say, make all of the time count. Gramma and I were able to do that, and I think it made all the difference in the world. There are no regrets–nothing we didn’t cover or express that hangs out there painfully since she’s been gone. Only perfectly sweet memories and the lingering space that no one else can fill exactly the way she always did. I pray that you have someone in your life who fill that space for you, too.

Please ask me about your great grandma one day, and when you do, make sure you have enough time to sit a while. I want you to know, as best you can, just what an impact she had on your mama–and just how blessed we were to have her lead our family for a time.

always good to leave a mark on the world the way she did. i pray i can do the same as the years go on. i do hope you crossed paths in heaven somehow…the thought makes me smile.

love you completely,

mm

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pursuing options. (53)

I’ve always loved the phrase, “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.” That is, as it applies to dinner and toddlers, the colored frosting on a birthday cupcake in school, something free you weren’t expecting. There’s just no big need to make a great deal out of the small stuff, and sometimes I think it’s a good life lesson to learn that you can’t always get what you want. Are you hearing the song in your head right now? Because I am.

I also love chucking the above phrase out the window when it comes to not settling on the bigger issues. I make no apologies that there are certain areas of my life that are just non-negotiable. Unwavering. Off the table. God is one of them, and the very biggest of them all. I won’t be backing down on the Creator of the Universe, or what I think of Him, or what I believe to be true about Him. To me, there’s no wishy-washiness about God. My family is another. There’s no settling for me where my nuclear family is concerned. None. I want the very best for them, always. Sort of good enough is not good enough for my marriage or my kiddos or my sister (and her family) or our parents. Nope. I want the absolute, bar none best, and I will work my tail off when necessary to make sure that’s what they get. So God. Then family. And then birth. Birth is a good one to throw into the mix. There’s no question about my stance when it comes to birth. I could very easily get on a soap box here, but I’ll do my best not to. I’ll just sum up my thoughts in a few lines that capture what I’m thinking about as I wind down this day (and for good reason):

-When you are birthing your baby, it’s YOUR baby. And YOUR body. And if you have wishes, hopes, dreams, fears, expectations, specifications, articulations–they’re yours for the sharing.

-When someone comes from a position of fear about your birth experience, it’s toxic. Even if you’re fairly steadfast about birth, from whatever angle you want to take. Toxic. I’ll elaborate more on this at a later date, when I’m not shedding my own experience with someone else’s fear and toxicity. Bottom line…you don’t have to buy into it or own it in any way. This is not a “you get what you get” situation. It is the amazing, beautiful, remarkable experience of bringing a life into the world. It should feel that way.

-I believe that God has created our bodies to do an incredibly beautiful thing, from start to finish. Is it not miraculous that a whole person begins from nothing and then, nine months later, comes out an entire little being who will grow into a bundle of awesomeness as he or she learns to eat, move, communicate, express emotion, speak, share, play, live? It is entirely crazy and amazing, and I think we should call it what it is. I don’t think we should water it down or act like we have to control every last aspect of birth, without regard for our Creator. It just stinks when we do that, and all of the fun of it feels lost to me.

So. In this case–in my case, you don’t get what you get and not get upset. You get what you get and you advocate for yourself and your body and God’s plan and the wellbeing of your family…the born and the unborn included. And you trust your gut and you apply your mama instinct and you pursue options, because the ones in front of you have started to feel less and less like options, and more like a slippery slope that challenges everything you believe to be true.

Birth is not a nasty, blue-frosted cupcake. I can get over a cupcake.

I’ll expound more as the days go on, but for now, I just want to capture this (and how I’m feeling 53 days before the Button’s anticipated arrival). I’m too passionate about this topic–and about the healthy, positive, uplifting outcome of this forthcoming birth for our family, to let it go. Nope. I’m a bit on fire right now, and my mama instincts are reeling. Just inside out reeling. And since God gifted me with the ability to feel and think and reason and protect, I’m likely to do all of that to my very best capacity. I hope as I journey through this process and come to conclusions for myself personally, that maybe someone else will feel empowered to the the same.

You don’t always get what you get and not get upset. You have options. I’m digging into mine. I’ll let you know how it goes.

loving this babe and wanting the absolute best for him or her. for us. thank you, God, for making me a little bit of a spitfire;)

mm

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limitations. (56)

As I type this, Jason is quite generously going to the grocery store on my behalf. The past few days have been full, full, full, and every time I head to the fridge to prep a meal, I have to get a little more creative. Avoiding the grocery store is a beautiful thing, so long as your toddler isn’t disappointed three days in a row because there’s no yogurt, no bananas for with breakfast. Someone was going to have to cave and go eventually, and I just presumed it’d be me, because it’s kind of my thing to handle edible procurements around here. I have no problem being in charge of the kitchen. I like to cook, and I get great satisfaction out of shopping sales and using coupons to whittle down the bill. It’s just that I can’t come up with a whole lot I enjoy less than going to the grocery store seven+ months pregnant. I am so thankful to J that I’m sitting in the living room right now instead of gearing up for a late night run to stock the fridge.

A definite struggle for me this pregnancy has been the fact that I have to slow down way more than I’d like to concede. I’m not sure I can chalk it up to much else besides chasing a toddler around, which I’ve never had to do while pregnant before. It’s a totally different kind of physically taxing activity, and I’m convinced that the emotionally taxing portion of parenting has ramped up as of late around here as well. You know I adore Henry. But I do not adore being blatantly ignored or flat out being told “No!” by my two year old a dozen or more times a day. Like any other parent, I don’t particularly enjoy coming up with new and creative ways to discipline at every turn, and the truth is, I just lack a certain level of patient energy to try. But you can’t just skip out on the hard parts of parenting when you’re pregnant (as so many of us undoubtedly wish we could). I feel like it’s almost more important to stick to my guns with the munchkin these days, so that there’s still a clearly established order and system to things when the baby comes.

So the reality is, life is getting trickier to manage from a capacity standpoint as my midsection stretches to capacity, too. There’s just a heap of challenging or stressful things that have taken up more space in my brain, heart and spirit than I thought I had room for right now. But God permits us what we can handle–no more, no less. So the lesson here is that I must be able to hang in there through all of the outlying stress factors that present themselves without a sense of reprieve. This will be one of those seasons I look back on fondly and remember as a time of incredible growth, I’m certain.

Most likely, I just need to do a better job of recognizing my current limitations and embracing them as much as possible. After all, the cause and end result are worth a few months of slowing down my pace. There are things coming up that I need and want energy for, and I’m trusting that God will provide all I require in those moments. He always does. In the meantime, as we wait and prep over these next eight-ish weeks, I’m going to do my best to be patient. To be a good and attentive wife and mom. To prepare a space for our baby that does this heart a world of good as it evolves. And to continue to strive to create peace and order in the little blue house while much of life changes and swirls around us.

Some things are definite, even in the midst of this sort of unknown chapter. And the definite things are good and true and life giving, so they’re probably the most important in the long run anyway. I will cling to those. I will also avoid the grocery store whenever possible–especially late on a Saturday night, or with a small person in tow. Thank goodness for partners in crime to do life with…and to do the grocery shopping 😉 How would we manage otherwise?

slowing down for good cause,

mm