Love is Blooming

Maybe I'm just getting sassy in my old age. Or maybe it's all pregnancy hormones, whatever it is, I've decided some things. Some things that are worth sharing.

For the first time in my life, I'm on the other side of this being pregnant thing. Normally, I'm the one watching and waiting for friends or sisters in law or my mom or whoever. I get excited about babies. About ALL of it, the pregnancy, the labor, the newborn. I wish every women felt comfortable with sharing their birth stories, because I always have this burning curiosity to ask. I like knowing it all, how long it took for them to go into labor, how many weeks they are, all of it.

As the pregnant one now though, on the other end, I must humbly apologize for all the times I've annoyed a pregnant lady. Because you can be sure I've gotten annoyed a time or two myself. Here and there. About certain things. Little things.

The matter of the uterus a common topic, though we don't call it that. But if we're all honest and grown up and adult about this, that's where babies are formed and created. The uterus.  I don't like saying things about my daughter being in my tummy...makes me feel like I've eaten her and that's weird. She is where God intended her to be. The muscular organ that has grown SO very large.

Here's the deal though, my reproductive system, is the business of three people. Me, my husband, and my God. This includes but is not limited to how many children we have, how far apart they are, and when they come out of me.

I've decided that when I go into labor, I don't want people to know. I have certain expectations in my head. One of them is that I will be in labor for a while, like my Momma was. (She had LONG labors, that crazy woman) So informing EVERYONE once the contractions hit/the water breaks/however my body decides to do this, is for me, my team, and my husband.

I want to post a picture of a beautiful baby and invite friends to tell her Happy Birthday. Because that's what a birthday is people, celebrating the day that YOUR mother pushed/went under/whatever to get YOU out. (Think about THAT the next time you think your birthday is all about YOU)

My plan is for my team to know. And for my closest family to know. My older brothers and their wives, a few grandparents, but honestly, as much as I love all of you, you can wait. Just like I've had to for these past few months. Be patient. This birth is not about  you, and I'm not entitled to have to tell ANYONE when I go into labor. Plus, who knows when it will ACTUALLY happen, AND there is no way to tell how fast or slow a labor will go.

Don't worry, when she's born, I'm gonna wanna tell everyone. I'm gonna wanna show everyone. I have someone taking birth pictures for us, I promise you that you won't miss much (and don't think to much about birth pictures, there will be nothing too graphic). Every mother is proud of their baby. Every mother wants to show their baby off, I'm gonna want to, really really.

Now that that is said, here, look at some pictures my best friend/godmother of my child/Auntie Ameh took of me. I look like I'm gonna have a baby and what not...weird!

 

I know that most of you have seen these, because of the good old Facebook, but I still wanted to write about it. It meant a lot to me that she took the time to take these pictures for me (and hopefully, will take some of me and Blair together..?) especially since we went to the place that she had gotten engaged at the DAY BEFORE!!!

I love that I have someone willing to help me document this time. Especially since I never thought I would want to. Ameh is amazing, and she's doing such a wonderful service for us...and I won't be able to say enough how honored I am that she is part of her Lennie's life. She doesn't love in little ways, she loves with her whole heart, and that's...that's beautiful and something worth teaching my daughter.

This is a poem that she wrote, and it's beautiful. I want to frame this and put it above my daughters bed/her little corner in our room.

Love is blooming, right here, right now, right inside of me, and that is a precious gift that I am holding close.

What's In A Name...

I think it's funny how when you are younger, you pick alllll sorts of names for your future children. You make lists and plans and forget all about the fact that you will be having a baby WITH someone and they might have some ideas of their own...

I've been thinking a lot about Eleanor's name. About why we chose and the people who influenced it. Honestly, I was convinced we were having a boy, so NOT seeing those little boy parts made my jaw drop, literally. We had joked the whole way there that the tech would tell us we were having a girl and not a boy, lo and behold...how jokes became truth.

On the drive home, giddy with news and excitement, we started talking names.

I'm not sure what it is, but this became a very big deal for me. Naming someone...well, it's their name. It's your name. You have it for the rest of your life. It's a big deal. I wanted her name to mean something, to stand for something. I wanted to name her after people and things that were heavy, big, important, and just for her.

Blair is really the one who named our girl. More than me. We hadn't ever talked about using two middle names, but in the end, that's how it worked out. I'm ok with it (shoot, her four cousins ALL have two middle names...I would list them, but that....that would take a lot of time...) (Love you Nate and Lori!). As we sat and talked and threw names out, Blair says,

"What about Eleanor Amanda Ray?"

Believe me or don't, but in that moment, I knew what her name was. I knew that was who she was. I knew that these were the people that I wanted to influence her life. 

Eleanor, for Eleanor Roosevelt, a great a lady. She said once "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Brilliant. Blair also just loves the name, and I was sold because I could shorten it to Ellie. I'm convinced that I want ALL my baby girls to have nick names that end in "ie" just like their Momma. It's a thing, just accept it. :) ALSO, Eleanor is the real name of the character Ella, in the book Ella Enchanted. Note, this is in reference to the BOOK and NOT the MOVIE which was a train wreck which ruined a literary masterpiece. 

We're nerdy. I want all of our babies to have some sort of book attached to their names as well. I do. And I love it. 

Now we come to the Amanda. After the two Amanda's in my life...

Every now and again, we are blessed with people who understand us and who truly want the best for us. My two best friends have been through a lot, and helped me through a lot as well. We have fought and been angry at one another, we have misunderstood one another, and we have gone through long periods where one of us couldn't speak to the other. I have seen them both at their worst and at their best and I love them. Whole heartedly. They are...some of the best people I know. I never thought...I didn't think I would ever name a baby after either of them, but when Blair suggested it, it made perfect and wonderful sense. 

I want Ellie to know what it means to be strong. I want her to know what it means to respect others who are different than you, who grew up differently. I want her to know what it's like to make friends with people who may not believe what you do, but who love love love you and support you. Both of my Amanda's are this type of person in my life. I can't...I can't begin to tell you how they've impacted my life. They've left foot prints on the map in my heart and they are tattooed there, forever, as people who I have to be close to. Even if we end up on the other side of the country, we will still be close, because I hold them close. 

My husband is a brilliant man, for knowing just how much these two people mean to me, and allowing me to name our daughter after two people who I hope and pray will always be part of my little girl's life. 

Ray. 

Ray is...Ray is a weighty name. I might cry while I tell you about this name, because I'm hormonal and Beauty and the Beast and Harry Potter made me cry last night...

This past December, my family watched as my mother's father went from home to another. It was hard. We love him and to see him such a state...it was hard. I knew I was pregnant at the time, and this was at the beginning, with all the sickness. The last time I saw my Papaw, he could barely speak, and barely move. I said good bye and that I loved him, and he pointed to me and said "I love you." And then he gave me and my daughter a gift that I will treasure forever, he pointed to my barely showing belly and said "I love you too." I might have told this story here before, but I don't care. Like Mary, I hold it close to my heart and store it there as a treasure. 

When he finally got to leave this world, Blair and I decided that in some way, we would honor him with our new little life, the first great grandchild who doesn't get to meet Papaw. His name was Raymond, and for our little girl, we shortened it to Ray. 

One of the coolest things about the name Ray though, is that it's not JUST for my Papaw. My Mother, probably one of the best people I'll ever know,  also has his name for her middle name, Pamela Ray. Add to that my big brother Nate, my twin just born a few years ahead of me (We are so so so alike...) who was named after both his grandparents, Guy Raymond. 

I love my family, and the friends who have slowly become part of that family. I have been blessed to be loved by so many people, and my daughter will also be blessed to be loved by so many 

9.5

I don't think that you should force creativity. I think sometimes, you'll feel more creative than other times. It's a stage, and it all comes and goes in stages.

Lately, I've wanted to draw and paint and sketch and play and doodle and and and all the things. There was only one problem, sometime in our move from tiny apartment to tinier apartment in his parent's house, I lost/misplaced a journal.

This had never happened before. I wasn't sure how to handle it. I panicked, maybe cried, maybe made my husband drive me around to several places to see if I had left it somewhere else. I love my art journals. I've been keeping them since I was probably 12 or 13...I have stacks of them. I re-read them, see how my life has changed and been documented. So to lose one, to not know where it is...it's like...it's like loosing someone you love. Not to mention, when we lost our baby last July, I journal'd a lot to get through that. It's...it's a heavy journal. It's one I need to remind myself that I got through it. I follows this ocean tide of happiness and sadness and eventually, hope that I would carry as far as I am right now with Ellie.

And I don't know where it is. I still don't. 

But...but, I've come to terms that it just needs to be hidden right now, for whatever reason. This did not change the burning fury in me to creative and doodle.

This week I was at a friends house, well, this past week. As I'm sitting and talking to my friend, I see a fairly large black journal. Without asking whose it is, I take it and begin to draw what's been in my head for weeks (a Dandelion...), and from there, it was allllll good. It turns out the journal belonged to my friends husband, who knew I had lost the other journal so he says "Take this one."

Flabbergasted, I informed him that if he gave it to me, I would NOT be giving it back. It just...I wouldn't. It would become mine, but he knew that.

So here I am now with journal 9.5.

And a big huge heart full of thank you to D.J. Trevor for knowing me better than I know myself. I found that I can't go without an art journal. I need it. It's my way to keep in touch with the art that I love so well and to express the things that I can't otherwise.

I'm incredibly thankful that I have friends who know me better than I know myself. I'd be a hot mess without them....

Choices, My Team, and A Plea For Help

Let's talk about choices. Because, we all have to make them.

Some woman chose to have their children in hospital, some have them in cars (because they don't make it there), some woman in third world countries have them in huts. Some woman, have their babies at home.

As most of you know, this what Blair and I chose for our baby. We are informed and educated, we get that it freaks some woman out, we get that some people can't or won't or that they fell uncomfortable doing so. Let me be clear, regardless of where you are going to have your baby you should feel comfortable. If you don't, this will highly impact how your labor goes and I believe that with all my heart.

We are embarking in a grand journey right now. Big things are happening, we're excited. I'm growing a human. It's kinda awesome. As we draw near to going into labor, there are some things on our "To Do" list that we haven't done yet. We haven't made a Birth Plan (which, though I know it can change, I think is important to write down, if you haven't, consider it and check out this site http://www.birthingnaturally.net/ because it has a lot of incredibly useful information on Birth Plans) and as I sit today and consider what I want on there, I start to think of who I want there. My team.

I need a team. I need people who know me and help me and are there for me. Here is my team:

The Husband 
It's pretty standard. He's been with me every step of the way, seeing me at some of my worst times. He's supported me, prayed for me, loved me (Even when I was being completely insane), and helped me remember how to breathe. He's wonderful. He does things sometimes that I didn't know I needed him to do. I can't imagine a birth without him. I couldn't imagine him not being there to catch our little girl. I think it's so neat that the very first person, outside of me, who will touch her, is her father. What a story to tell her...

My Mother
 Not only has my mother given birth to 7 amazing children (if I do say so myself), she's been training to be a Doula. And I've seen her in action.

My mother is amazing. She's beautiful and compassionate and she loves to serve. I need her in the room with me. I need her to calm me down and rub away the stress. I need her to remind me that I can do this. I need to see that look on her face, the one where I know, that if she could go through it all for me, she would. She's going to take care of me, and my Husband while he supports me. She's not going to leave my side, I know she's not. And in the end, I feel like the privileged one to be able to have this woman with me.

The Photographer 
Here's where I get a lot of "you're crazy" from people. My very best friend and Godmother to my child will be here to photograph Eleanor's Birth. I want pictures, and yes, I want pictures of it all. I want pictures of my labor position and what my face looks like when my uterus contracts. I want pictures of my mom and my husband holding my hand, I want pictures of the time, the date, the tools, everything. I want pictures of my team and I want pictures of Blair's face the minute he meets his daughter. I want pictures of us holding her and of all the people in the room crying, I want all of it. Documented. Maybe not so much for you, but for me. In my experience at the five labors I've been to, Mothers forget a lot of little things that happen. Photographers help capture those little moments. More than that, I want her her. I want her to see what birth is like, I want her to experience with me that I am not afraid, and I want her to be able to tell Ellie one day, "Hey, I was there..." Think of it as making memories.

My Mother in Law
She doesn't even know that she's on my Team, but she so is. She's the background person. I can see her cooking and making sure people have eaten. I can see her making sure we have whatever we need, towels, wash cloths, warm blankets, anything and everything. She might not be in the room when I push, but she will be in spirit and I need her. I do.

And finally,
My Midwife and Her Team
This is where we get to some of what I really want to talk about. Some things I might ask for some help with. I need her professional hands to be here with us after the birth. I've also seen her in action and I love her. More than that, I love her in general. I've loved since before we even got pregnant. She's been amazing and phenomenal and graceful and taught us so much. When we lost our first baby, she checked on me for months. And when we found out about Eleanor, she knew my fears. She calmed my fears. She helped me get through those fears. When I got sick, she encouraged me, and didn't judge me when I told her that at the time, I just couldn't eat well...my keytones looked atrocious for months and she never once made me feel like a bad mother. It was...precious. Her team is wonderful, and I need her there to help calm those fears. I need to hear her tell me that she knows that it works but that it's for my daughter.

Which is why, what I'm about to ask my friends and family is not asked lightly. Since being sick, we've had to cut back on a lot of things. I couldn't work for a while. We lost a lot of money...and then there were ER trips and my need for Zofran to make it through the day (which has slowed down a lot! Some days, I don't even need it!). My midwife is a professional and as a professional, she should be paid. While we are slowly but surely working on that, it's taken a lot out of us.

I know...I know there are some people who have told us that they would still like to get Ellie a gift. Well...here is the gift I'm asking for: please help us with our midwifery bill.  Think of it as a blessing to a family that would like to pay the woman who helps bring a healthy baby into the world. All you have to do is follow this link and specify that however much money you would like to donate goes to Blair and Maddie Jaques. It would be an incredible blessing to us. And it doesn't have to be much. And if you are thinking "we've already given them a gift" then don't worry about this. We would ask that you prayerfully consider helping us, and if you can't, then really, it's ok. Any and all help would be wonderful and we'd appreciate it.

We are trusting, no matter what, that this will be taken care of, either by ourselves alone, or with the help of others. At this point, I can't humble myself much lower...shoot, in January I had to ask people to bring me food and my house...God bless all the people who saw my house.

God is good. He is faithful. And we're trying to only ever do what He would ask of us. For us, this means that we birth at home, here in our little apartment at his parents with the best team possible. If you can or are willing to help make that team possible, you have no idea the amount of gift that you are giving to us.

Plus Ellie SSSSSSSOOOOOOO doesn't need ANYTHING else. Child is already spoiled, I'll be real. :)

Baby Growing, Mother's Day, Middle of May!!!

Well friends I feel like it's been a long time since I last wrote anything to you. We've been awfully busy. My new job, Blair's new job, growing a baby, no biggie. :) Not to mention that when I DO have days off I feel this incredible need to be SUPER productive. So I end up scheduling myself for about a billion things. I promise you I'm trying to slow down...it's just not so easy.

As always, I've been thinking about five million different things that I want to share with my few friends who follow this blog (are you following me? I would love for you, I really love sharing my thoughts). I am trying to think of the best way to organize these thoughts and make them coherent. It's not easy, especially with the Ellie STEALING MY BRAIN. Seriously, Baby Brain, it's real. In fact, let's start there!

I have become VERY dyslexic as my pregnancy progresses. I mix up letters and numbers and words like it's my job in life. When I'm researching something for the Library or looking up a book for a patron, I end up typing it all backwards. I have to re-try quite a bit. So in advance, I apologize for all grammatical and spelling errors. I should let the Fairy Godmother read these before I post them...it would probably cut back on me sounding illiterate.

This past Saturday I took pictures for some of my very favorite people (side note, why, at the END of my pregnancy have I decided that spending all this time taking pictures for people is a good idea? Oh yeah, I love it...got it...). We walked FOUR miles. And I did the WHOLE thing. I won't lie, for me, this was a big deal. It helped me sleep and walking is such an amazing thing to help with labor. What's more, those pictures turned out amazing and I love them. Plus that family is one of the best. No joke. I even let the mom use my camera to document me. My husband has been on a lot of my photo shoots lately, and I love it. I love when he comes with. We both got thousands of bug bites, but it was so so so worth it.

I feel very big now. We're almost 34 weeks and man...I marvel at how big she is, and that she will just get bigger. How did God DO this? This right here, what I'm doing, makes me feel like more of an artist than anything I've ever created before. I'm helping to MAKE a HUMAN. How...how can this not blow your mind? Even on the worst of days when I just want to skip to the part where I push her out...I can't help but think about her in there growing and moving. She's so funny, so full of personality. We went to see Shrek the musical (which my younger sister Evie was in and who did an AMAZING job) and Eleanor LOVED it. Very rarely does she move that much! I think we have a future theatre/musical geek on our hands.

I celebrated Mother's Day, and herein lies a small rant. While at Church, I heard someone make a comment when I raised my hand to signify that I am mother. While it was not the right time or place to call said person out, I so badly wanted to. Being pregnant, counts. You. Are. A. Mother. What's more, even if I hadn't been as pregnant as I am, I would have raised my hand. Cara counts. To tell the mother of a lost baby, whether miscarriage or still born, is to deny that she had life inside her. To deny that life...is unacceptable. And mean. And cruel. Being pregnant with Ellie certainly helped this year, however, I still felt the sting of our loss. Because my plan for this year, was to actually have a physical baby to hold, and not just a memory.

For the record, if you know a woman who suffered a loss in any way, and it's mother's day, make damn (yes, I used that word, get over it) sure to tell her Happy Mother's Day. And if in your opinion said person is NOT a mother, keep it to yourself. You have no idea how your comment will affect her. I'll get off my high  horse now, but that one comment I heard behind me really...well, it got to me.

We are doing really well. Pregnancy wise, moving, in general is getting harder and harder. Even flipping from side to side at night takes a lot of me. I think it's hysterical, Blair sometimes...not so much. I'm pretty sure I woke him up last night because I moved his pillow because it was "trying to eat my face"? He grumbles, but he will always scoot over or help me adjust the thousands of pillows I sleep with. He's a trooper, I love him.

Stretch marks have finally decided to REALLY show up. It seems as though in the past two days I've gotten these beautiful lines marking up my belly. I love them. I love the evidence that I am carrying life.

Let's talk about yoga for a second, because I love yoga. I wish I was going more frequently. I feel very good about myself and my baby after we go. Everything hurts less. :) I also like that most of the poses are things I can bring home and do on my own. My instructor is wonderful and adorable and makes me feel incredibly at peace. (In fact, after this, I'm gonna go do some stretches...things be tight up in here yo!)

All in all, we're just getting more excited. I keep praying about labor, and trusting in my midwife and listening to Blair when I feel crazy (which has been rather frequent I must admit...) I'm drinking lots of red raspberry leaf tea and another tea called NORA tea (Nettles, Oats, Raspberry leaf, and Alfalfa) and I feel strong. Most of the time. Sometimes, when I'm still for too long and then start going again, I get weird and move really slowly. I've got the pregnant waddle down, even though I try really hard to walk normally.

It's already the middle of May and June is almost here! I keep in mind that Little Miss might decide to come in July (which I can TOTALLY see her doing because she's half Blair and he's stubborn like you would not believe) just to mentally prepare myself that I might not be "done" when the calender says I should be. Babies come when they're ready. I'm ok with that.

I will really try to post more! I have lots of things that happen and I think, "That would make a great blog post" and then I get home....and Eleanor says "SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPP" and I must admit, I'm willing to oblige the little goober. :)

Lessons in Grace

I forget sometimes that I'm sick.

I mean this in all honesty, because if you've ever gone through an on going sickness you know that those days that you feel wonderful, you want to hold onto them forever. Maybe you even have a week or a month where things go well.

So when you relapse (for lack of a better word) it throws you way the heck off.

We've been doing really well. We are moved into my In-Laws, I didn't have to move very much, and the transition here has been wonderful. So far, so good. I think we're all realizing that we are different people and Blair and I have our space. It's very respected and I appreciate that. Honestly we work a lot, so we aren't home much, and when we are, we kinda just hide up here.

It was hard for me to say good bye to our little apartment, I may or may not have cried. However, seeing the money in our account and knowing that we DON'T have to pay rent and that that money can go to other things (like say, paying our amazing midwife) makes this all so worth it.

Though I've been incredibly tired lately and though I pee all the time in the middle of the night, the HG has slowed way the heck down.

When it struck again last night, the emotional toll that it took brought me to tears, several times. I've been working a new job and I love it, I really truly honestly love it so much I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it is. I just can't help but question the timing...

I've gone from working about 30 hours to working about 15 to working 40. Saturdays are the only days that I have off at the moment, and the worst part is that Blair started a new job where he has to work on Saturdays. Our long weekends together, sadly, have come to an end. We knew that they would. It's why we cherish so much the time that we DO have together. It's why I turn off my computer and listen to him talk about his book. It's why he comes and just spends time with me in our room. We make quality time for one another, we need it.

This Saturday I went to a Fundraiser for our Library (that's the new job...). I was only out until 9:20. They made sure I rested and had water and ate and everything. So from twelve to five in the morning, when I couldn't sleep because my hips hurt so much and then the three and four AM puking sessions hit, I was so so so done. I sat in our bathroom crying and praying that God would please, please make it stop. Please. All I wanted was to go to sleep. Fast forward to the next day when I thought I could go to my shift at the Library...I made it about two hours. I get incredibly embarrassed when I throw up at work or in public places.

I ended up home and passed out for a couple hours. So far I've kept some soup (which my MIL made because she knows I love it!) and some crackers, and thankfully water down. Those were the physical sides of the past 24...

Here are the emotional...

I want Ellie. I love her. I have this incredibly doofy look when I see her and feel her move. I get excited, I talk to her, I fuss at her, I push her sharp little bum out of my way because gracious she hurts. But...I have really come to the conclusion that pregnant is not my thing. I feel...so unlike myself that I can't...even remember who I was before I was sick. I hope and pray that once she is here this will let up (for some woman, it takes a while). I want her here, now. I want to speed up the next weeks and meet her. I want to hide in my room until she's here. I want to be done.

This scares me. Because pregnancy, I feel, takes patience. I'm waiting for her to decide she wants to be born, what if she waits longer than I want? And man, last night, I felt like a sissy. I woke Blair up and cried and had him trying all sorts of ways to help my hips and back stop hurting. As one point I asked him if he really thought that we could have her at home without any medicine and without people constantly all up in my junk. He still believes in me.

Can we talk about this man? He wins. You all have no idea. None. I'm not as strong and confident as I appear to be, and Blair knows this. I speak out all my fears and guilt and worries and he is constantly reminding me of what I really want, what he really wants. He is constantly telling me that he will be here with me and for me. He even wants us to look into getting a birthing tub because the water has ministered to me in an amazing way. I really hope when Eleanor is born, that someone takes him out for a beer or shot of whiskey or something. He's been patient and wonderful and I just don't know if I could have done this part without him.

I am at war within myself a lot of times. I feel like there are all these experiences that shaped me and molded me. So while I think one thing, at the same time I'm kicking myself in the butt for feeling that way. I hate myself for not being able to enjoy this pregnancy. I hate that I can't just let it come and go the way it has, knowing at the end it's all worth it. Knowing I want the sleepless nights with my daughter, knowing that labor might take me a long time, knowing that I might think this will never end. I know, in my heart, that this little life in me is so so so worth it. But I hate hate hate the process. And I am so so so tired of throwing up. Of being sick. Of forgetting that I am sick, that this is a medical condition.

Last night and today was like how it was in November through the beginning of February, when it was bad. All I could think was, what if it gets really bad again? Would my new job understand? Are people going to stop caring? See they all tell you enjoy this and enjoy this time, people have told me that throughout this whole pregnancy. Stop. I don't. I'm not going to. That part I've come to terms with. I promise you that I know that my daughter coming to this world will make it, be patient, I'm still not there, I still have these days.

I've learned a lot because of Eleanor. I'm still learning all these little lessons in Grace and Forgiveness. Praying and hoping that I don't embarrass myself too much a long the way. I've never...never called on God the way that I have been recently. It's this primal instinct in me that wants so badly for God to please please please take this from me. I'm working on the "being patient in suffering" thing.

Emotionally, this past 24 hours, has had me all over the place. From scared to confused to angry to worried to just plain annoyed that I couldn't keep food down.

I'm praying that I sleep better tonight, that I can go to work in the morning. That I continue on until the day that Blair gets to catch Ellie in our little room here at his parents.

Each day at a time, each moment, each second I'm learning that I'm allowed my feelings, that I'm allowed Grace, that I've got to forgive myself, even if half the time I don't know what it's for...

Fragile Time

There have been all sorts of thoughts running around my head lately. I've been writing and re-writing blog posts in my head for the past three to four days, waiting for the moment when I have a moment to sit down and maybe actually write out some of these things..

As we have entered into our Third Trimester, Ellie Girl is quickly loosing room in my uterus. She's getting bigger and bigger, so is my belly. I officially need to put lotion on me to avoid stretch marks. And I only do that because we want lots of babies, I might as well take care of my skin. Blair loves loves loves my stretch marks. And he loves that my body is changing as she grows. She's also head down, which is AWESOME, but you know what this means? Her feet are upish. You what that means? She pushes on me. I've gotten to that point where she HURTS now. Little goober. I talk to her a lot, and push back on her, and try to convince her that she still does have room. She does. She's not THAT big yet.

Time has been on my mind a lot as well. How much time has passed since we found out about our baby. How much time we still have...how much time we will have when she's here...

I get nightmares, things I won't voice to anyone but maybe my husband and a good friend, that rattle me sometimes. They make me wake up in tears, wanting to drink coffee to make her dance, to make sure...because for some reason, this fear plays in my head. No matter how these dreams end, one thing always always happens. I always look at Blair and say "It's ok, the time we had was enough for me." I know it might not interest you, and some of you might think it's silly to even talk about these nightmares. I can't help but talk to God when I wake up from these though.

I pray a lot now. Been spending a lot of time with God. Asking Him to prepare my heart and mind for the work that I've got coming up. Asking Him to take these fears. Asking Him to be ever present, like I know He is. I also thank Him though. Because right now, right this second, I am a mother, and I love her. I can feel her up at the right as I type this, pushing and hurting. No matter how bad it hurts, no matter how often I get sick, I thank Him.

Life is a gift. Your life. My life. The lives of the people that I love. The life of my Papaw who I, for some reason, miss more NOW than I did a few months ago. I still get sad he doesn't get to meet this great-grandchild. When I think about him though, I know his life wasn't wasted. It makes me think of the song "Streets of Gold" by Needtobreathe.

"I don't remember, seeing fear in your eyes,
when you were fading, the day we said our goodbyes.
It's easy to say, there's a reason for this,
Much harder to know what they say is true. 

Everything we hold could someday slip away."

Life is a gift. Our time is short. I realized the other day that I missed my Daddy. I never did get to call him, I wanted to. (Side note: if I had, and just to tell him I loved him, he would have said "What do you want?" No joke, he seems like such a grumpy man, but don't let him fool you, he's a big teddy bear.) I missed my sister in law, so I left her a ridiculous message. Last week or so I missed my best friend, so I spent the afternoon with her. 

It's ok, you know, to think about the fragility of life. I don't mind it. I think of my daughter being knitted together in my womb right now and I just kinda think, man, she's so fragile. She will be, for so so long. 

See, instead of dwelling on my fears, I remember to think about why I think those things, or have those fears. I find a way to be thankful for them. I find a way to remember that God has given us such beautiful things and people to be around. I am thankful for the fragility of life, because it means that it's there. That's enough for me. 

Anyways, those are things I was thinking about. I don't even care if it doesn't make sense. :) 

Also, tomorrow some friends and people from my church are getting together for a Baby Shower. I hope I can get some pictures to share with you all. I'm excited to be able to celebrate Ellie with other. people.