MollyMadonna.com

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making room.

Give God an inch and He’ll take I mile, I tell ya. Man, He’s good like that. Seven months after purchasing our tickets, my dear friend Lindsey and I are attending Allume this weekend in Greenville, South Carolina. I’d be lying if I said we just hopped on planes and landed here without a hitch, but I like the real story better, anyway. Getting to Allume wasn’t half a day’s journey, or even a seven month journey. For me, I think it’s a nearly-five-hundred-blog-posts-later journey that God put me on far before I knew Allume existed. And in the past few months, everything He’s done in my heart has been about making room and creating space for Him to do His work in me.

His work in me. Isn’t it crazy that we serve a God who is willing enough and attentive enough to ask us to make room in our own, very small, very humble little lives, for Him?

If tonight is any indication, my world is going to be rocked a bit this weekend, and I’m going to jump out of my comfort zone on purpose with the intent of praying hard, listening harder and writing like I mean it.

God put Allume on our hearts and a little bug in my ear about getting back–truly back–to the thing He created me to do, and then He made a way for us to be here. All I really did was whisper, “Yes, please.” I do love it when God takes a mile 😉

lighter already,

mm

 

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mid-summer share.

It feels strange and a little sad to put on paper that we’re already almost to that halfway point in my favorite season…I long for summer when it’s not here, and love to savor every bit of life in its midst. Time goes by much too quickly these days–a warning I have tried to heed from my elders as the years go on, and one that I am still working hard to navigate. How can time possibly go any faster than it did before, when the length of minutes, days and years never really changes? The answer, I’m discovering, is that in my busyness and “intentionality” and haste, I have lost some of my ability to truly make the most of the hours entrusted to me…I’m sure others can relate!

So here I am, mid-summer, and desiring so much to do a better job of managing my days. Henry is three and rounding the corner on preschool, and his baby sister is somehow turning ONE a month from this weekend, acting much more like a little girl these days than a baby. In a way I don’t know how this happened–you know, in that cliché way…because babies turn into little people so quickly and their growth and change happens exponentially faster when they’re small than later on in life. But then in a way, I do know. And it’s my own doing, whether or not I was aware of it all as it happened. The truth is, I lived with complete tunnel vision for five months when Eloise was born, while we worked through a dairy issue and cracked the code on what was making her (and subsequently our) days so challenging. I held her for hours at night, or we passed her back and forth, trying to push through the crying and wriggling and pain and pacing and bouncing and can’t. see. straight. kind of struggle that so often comes with babies.

Don’t get me wrong. It was worth every minute. But there’s no denying it was hard. Some days, it was harder than I thought I could handle. And in the midst of that hard place, things fell away from my otherwise usual existence, and I forgot a bit of who I am. Or who I was. I’m sure I’m not exactly the same person now, six months later.

Thank goodness.

Maybe if I hadn’t been in that place six months ago, I wouldn’t have begun the process of digging myself out. It sure would have been easier in that space to feel like I had everything under control, but it was good to get a serious lesson in humility and brokenness as a person–and especially as a mom. Those first five months of holding Eloise without end have since taught me a few things. While I felt cornered into a space of loss and chaos for a while, I also got desperate. And my desperation has changed shape over these subsequent months, but in every case, it has caused me to turn to what I really know (and it’s pretty simple).

I know that God never left me in the tunnel. I know that He sees me and knows my heart and my needs. I know that He has sustained me through this particular bit of the mess. I know that He has pursued me patiently, and also that He was ready and waiting for me to decide I was due to snap out of it and take notice again. He has my attention. I’m super grateful for this. I can’t say I have a crazy number of answers, or that I could dole out advice any better today than I did a year ago. Maybe. But it would be cautious advice, that I’d hope to share with as much grace and consideration as I could muster.

So where does that leave things? Well, I’m claiming the hours back. I’m not naive in thinking that I could just store them up again and make up for lost time, necessarily, but I’m discovering anew how to be intentional with my days and all that God has entrusted to me in them. I know this sounds idealistic. It could be. But what I mean is fairly simple. I’m working each day at making my “yes” be my “yes,” and my “no” be my “no.” I’m working on deleting the in between. When Henry asks me to play, the answer is yes. When Eloise needs her mama, the answer is yes. And if I can’t, I’m trying to make sure it’s for a very good reason. I’m re-prioritizing what I’m called to. Can I tell you just how good it feels?! It’s kind of amazing…like a weight lifting off of me and life clearing a path in the direction I should go. God clearing a path, really. And me paying attention.

I’m back here on the blog for this reason. For the same reason I’m drawn back to it every time. Because words on paper are lifeblood to me. Built into my soul. And when I’m not mothering or writing or celebrating life with my dearests, I’m not living. Not fully. Like breathing without taking full breaths and always craving more air. And I’m going to breathe this time. Because life keeps going by no matter what, and I can’t stand the thought of participating in it half way.

can’t wait to share again soon. you know, before summer is waning and i’m wondering again where the time has gone.

xo,

mm

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eloise josephine–a birth story.

Well, little lady, the time has flown. I promised you a birth narrative, and now here we are: nine months to the day since I went into labor with you, and not any less in love with the sacred day that you came into the world. Snuggle up, and let me tell you a story…

At almost exactly this time (it’s 10:35pm now) on a very hot and sticky, perfect summer Sunday evening, I was sitting on the couch working on a playlist for your upcoming delivery, and feeling a little disheartened. I had been convinced for some time that this very day, August 18th, 2013, was the day I would go into labor with you. We’d been to church that morning and I’d sung my heart out, just as I did with your brother the day he started making his way into the world. I’d shed a few tears in service as I considered your beautiful presence, so round in my belly–the gift of you and the fulfillment of God’s promise to me in the fact that you would so soon be here. And I’d sat in the pew at the end of church that morning when your brother came straight up to my belly and got down close to say to you, “Hi baby! I’m going to see you soon! And I’ll meet you tomorrow!!” with such anticipation and assurance in his voice that I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

That afternoon, we’d taken our time as a family…gone to the pool to cool off in the August heat, then come home to get ready for outdoor baptism and a picnic on the church grounds. As we listened to names being called that evening by the side of the pond, I just kept thinking and wondering about sweet little you. I had been so certain and yet, the day was almost through and I was still very pregnant. No baby yet, and no labor. There were only five or so hours left in the day, and my confidence in my mother’s intuition was waning. I insisted we take a walk, just to urge things along a little more. We wound down the day walking to the park and climbing and goofing around. I was tired. Full. Happy. And so curious about your arrival.

After getting your brother to bed, I couldn’t wind down. There were things on my mind–and my pre-baby to do list–that just wouldn’t let me rest. I curled up on the couch and hand-picked song after song…worship music I wanted playing as we ushered you into the world some time soon to come. Your daddy sat across the room, and occasionally, I pointed out to him the strange way that you had started moving in my belly. Every few minutes I’d look down and my stomach would be completely misshapen, like something I’ve never seen before. It kept happening periodically, and I kept right on creating that stream of music all the while. I remember telling your daddy that it hurt when you moved that way. I’d had contractions on and off for the better part of three weeks, so this didn’t phase me much. Your mama, the doula, didn’t realize that I was already in labor with you!

I stayed up much too late that night, talking with your dad and taking care of other things. When I finally went to bed, I couldn’t get terribly comfortable. I was so tired though…I kind of remember just curling up on my side and eventually drifting to sleep. At some early stage of the morning (maybe 3:30 or so?), I woke up with a contraction here and a contraction there. They weren’t yet intense, and I would doze between them, so I didn’t even wake your daddy. I vaguely remember hearing him get out of bed that morning to get ready for work. What I do very clearly remember next is the sudden jolt I had waking up, knowing I needed to get up from the bed and into the bathroom. At first, I thought my water had broken, and I could discern quite quickly that things were getting moving. Your dad came downstairs from his shower and I called out to him, “Hey J?…I don’t think you should go in this morning…We’re going to have a baby today.”  At that point, my contractions were six to seven minutes apart. It was Monday, August 19th at 6:45am.

I called our doula, Karlye, and text our photographer, just to let them both know that things were in motion. I was feeling fairly breezy and laid back at this point. “I just wanted to let you know,” I explained to both, “To give you a head’s up. I’ll keep you posted as things progress. We’re just going to take it easy here at home this morning.” I thought it best to fit in a shower and to take care of a few more last-minute items before Henry woke up. I got upstairs just after 7am. I remember the clock in the bathroom saying 7:10a.m. Then 7:13am. I know it did, because I checked at that moment as another contraction came on. A long shower seemed like a good idea, so I tried to refocus. I checked the clock again at my next contraction, feeling like they were kind of close. 7:16am. A fluke, I figured, really trying to stay centered under the hot water. Another contraction. 7:19am. I canned the idea of more time in the water and got out to check in with Karlye again. “Do you think maybe you could just come in an hour or so?” I asked her. “I think I’d just feel better if you were here, so you could help me to make the call on when to go to the hospital. Things are feeling a little more intense,” I remember saying. I pulled out the hair dryer and poured my focus into drying my hair. Brushing my teeth. Putting on a little makeup (your mom is silly like that). With each task, the surges were coming faster and stronger. I settled for good enough and headed to my closet to put odds and ends into my hospital bag. Your dad ran around the house getting other things ready, making calls, checking in on me. Around 8:20, we decided it was time to wake up your brother. I walked into his room to say good morning, and in the same moment, my water broke. It took me by surprise, but I didn’t want Henry to be afraid, so I left the room as quickly as I could. I recall telling daddy that things were “about to get really real,” in the same moment as Karlye (in all of her infinite wisdom and intuition) arrived and came up the stairs early–and not a moment too soon.

More to come tomorrow, my love. Nine months exactly since your precious birthday. I’m sorry I’m only getting to this now, sweet Eloise. But I’m thrilled at how clear and tangible it all still feels in my head and heart.

i love you, baby girl,

mama

 

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four weeks.

Whoops! This didn’t publish as planned when I wrote it. 🙁  A few days late, but the sentiment is the same…

There is just SO much to say as we reach this little milestone of four weeks with our sweet baby girl. I realize I haven’t even formally introduced her here yet, but it’s not for lack of intention, I promise! I’m writing tonight after days of wanting to record every sweet thing about our new babe–the thing is, each time I set out to write, there’s a need to attend to here. As much as I want to be recording precious memories for my kiddos to someday hold dear, I’m busy being mama to them right now (as I know any parent totally understands). This newborn season is so fleeting. And our toddler is very much a toddler. Both have different needs for time and energy at the moment that no blog could. When triaging the day, I’m so sad to say that writing rarely makes the cut for now.

As “the Button” nears her one month birthday this week, I’m plotting out her birth story post and excited to begin telling her tale a bit more in the days ahead. She is, as any child, a most perfect gift from The Lord–and although I may not say it as often as I’d like in a blog post, we are certainly celebrating her presence daily.

This has been a beautiful and most difficult season of parenting for me…learning a new baby while desiring to give my best to our first born is a tireless and, at times, overwhelming task. But I wouldn’t change it for anything. I am in love with both kiddos for new reasons every day. And I’m gleaning new tricks of the trade and levels of patience as I go–things that will undoubtedly come in handy in the days ahead!

I can hardly believe four weeks have gone by…in a whirlwind of visitors, cluster feeding growth spurts, a bout of illness, and a grand attempt at getting to know our little leading lady. In three days, when a month rolls around, I may be moved to tears at the thought that it’s already come and gone. For so long we anticipated her arrival, and now, we blink and she’s changing right before our eyes!

so much to be grateful for as I type, one handed, from my phone tonight. it’s a glorious thing to have so much love and so little sleep all at once 😉 happy “four weeks,” eloise!

xo,
mm

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baby boom. (25)

So I’ve never known what’s it’s like to be called a baby boomer (we’ve left that up to our parents’ generation thus far), but I have a feeling that there’s something in the water, and that we’re likely to have a similar moniker when our children are of child bearing age. Maybe it’s one of those “if you drive a blue Jeep, you see blue Jeeps everywhere” kinds of scenarios, but I feel like over half of the families I know right now are having babies. And not just over the next six to nine months, but right now.  This month, next month–sometime before autumn arrives.

Facebook is exploding with birth announcements and cute, scrunchy new faces and beaming parents…and it’s only a matter of time before our timelines are doing the same as well. (I dislike Facebook in some ways, but I will say it’s good for keeping up on the bigger moments of peoples’ lives, at least:). There’s a lot of celebrating going on, a lot of new person naming, a ton of photography and video being captured, and many women literally pushing through the summer as they grow their families. I am thankful to be among them.

All of this baby having begs a few questions though, and they’ve been racking up in my mind over the past few weeks. How many of us will have chosen similar names for our kiddos? How much influence does the UK have on our own pop culture: will George be the new #1 name in the US, or in our area, after 2013 wraps up? Why, if every other woman I see is pregnant around here, do we not have better options for maternity apparel within a 20 mile radius? How many of us will be filing into the hospital on the same day, at the same time, to birth our babes? Should we start a club or something? 😉

Silly ramblings, I know, but it’s true that this baby craze is too abundant to ignore. There are new little ones everywhere! I’m not sure whether it’s our age, our town, whatever the weather was doing back in Oct/Nov/Dec of last year, but babies kind of rule the land at the moment. It’s fun to be in good company.

This post marks the three quarter point of my 100 day blogging adventure for the Button, and admittedly, it has been a harder commitment to keep this time around. It’s not because I don’t want to do it, or because it matters any less to me than the first time I took it on–it’s just that our days are more full than ever, and at the end of them, I’m running on E before I get to the computer. That being said, I hope our wee one will see this as an act of love, and that he or she will know even more how deeply I already cherish the life that is brewing within. 24 countdown days to go before we start counting up–we’ll see when baby decides to declare the finish line!

until then…blogging away,

mm