Strong For Her Tasks Part 2 - A letter to Julia and Ilaria

Dear sweet girls,

I recently made the very careful choice to resign from my job to be with you. I want you to know that I never encourage "quitting," but peace is essential in life. I truly love teaching, but my heart felt extremely heavy and conflicted every single day before I committed to this decision. I felt split, scattered, burdened, and frustrated. I felt time slipping through my fingers as my exhausted mind and body half-way witnessed you grow. I desperately wanted to be fully present for you. I wanted to relish this time and make all the necessary sacrifices so it could be possible. I am thankful for your Daddy and his encouragement through it all.

I have dreamed of being your mommy and a wife for my whole life. Don't get me wrong, I have many other dreams, too. Actually, I dream and create all the time. But, right now, I hear God telling me it's time to invest in my family. Even writing this out makes my heart feel so much peace and sheer joy. This morning, I felt called to read Proverbs 31:10-31 again. In my letter to Julia I focused on the part in verse 17, "She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks." The funny thing is that there's a new kind of work and, most definitely, a new kind of strength required now. Once again, I am made to realize women are phenomenal creatures. We adapt and we're gritty.

I now have the privilege of spending my days with you, and God has written new pages of my story. I never could have dreamed I'd get to be here. Literally, a page turn over from Proverbs 31 is a whole section in Ecclesiastes about time. There is truly a time for all things. It says specifically that there's a time to plant and a time to uproot. It doesn't distinguish how long those seasons last or how close they might be to one another. I find myself uprooting from one part of life and planting, so very carefully, in another. I am right where He needs me.

Now it's time to plant, heal, and build. Girls, it's time to laugh, time to dance, and it is, without question, a time to keep.

Love,

Mommy

A Beautiful Day Outside

"It's a beautiful day outside!" Julia remarked from the backseat as gray skies prevailed and rain drenched the streets. We were on our way to the library after painting pottery together on a rare mother/daughter date (sans baby). Whether she was being sarcastic or totally serious with her statement, I am still not completely sure. Regardless, it made me think deeper into her little mind. To her, maybe rainy days are pretty. She hasn't necessarily been around long enough to be swayed by popular opinions about the weather and how it is supposed to affect us. Come to think of it, she doesn't even know how to be sarcastic yet. 

Over the last month or so (since bringing home her baby sister, Ilaria), we've had our struggles. Actually, I have to admit that my weepy moments in the first weeks were not due to the newborn, but because of the strained relationship with my toddler. I could just look at her and tears would fill my eyes. Julia had been our whole world for 2 years and 8 months. For the first time in her life, I wasn't seeing her consistently. I couldn't follow our routines or physically keep up. I wasn't allowed drive her anywhere, much less lift or carry her. It was really hard and I found myself missing her, even if she was in the same room. 

After those weepy, beginning weeks it hasn't gotten much easier. She's been testing us - mainly me -with extreme spurts of defiance. She won't listen and doesn't comply a lot of the time. She argues. She refuses to eat dinner. She lays down on the floor in tantrum mode. The picture above shows her sprawled out, after a time out, still refusing to put away those letters and fast asleep from all the energy released in her little struggle. She has become a really solid 2 year old - the kind you always hear about but refuse to believe you'll actually inherit. We've "parented" until our options have run dry. It's tough sometimes. 

When I really sit on that statement she made about the weather, though, I realize her little mind is clearer. It's less swamped, less complicated, and knows so much less. Her mind is new, fresh, and impressionable. In a just few weeks time, she's been taken out of her typical routine and moved over (partially) out of the spotlight. Her mama has been, well, tired, less available, and short-fused. She's been forced to welcome a teeny stranger into her home and witness large amounts of crying and blow-out poopy diapers. I have had to conclude that she probably, and very simply, just wants to feel the old, familiar love. She is craving it. One afternoon, in fact, she wouldn't stop crying and she whined, "Mama, hold me. Mama kiss me." My heart broke right there and it still didn't feel like there were enough pieces of it to go around. In this same moment, imagine me stationed in place, feeding the baby, with the toddler crying and the Yorkie barking to be let outside. She just wants to be listened to, hugged, read to, and played with. She also very likely believes that every day is beautiful outside. 

All this innocence is truly beautiful. In these tough days where growing hurts and transitions are painful, I have to remind myself to treasure it all. In comparison to my itty-bitty

nine pound, five-week-old infant, Julia seems so big. She's getting bigger every single day. That's just what happens and you cannot stop it. On a short family walk after dinner, she said, "I'm teachin' you how to be parents. I do that." I giggled, "Julia, where did you hear that?" and it quickly dawned on me, as she often does, that she was directly quoting one of her books, You Were the First. It is such a sweet story about the important role a first child has in the life of a family. We had to chuckle at how timely and how funny it was that she chose to say this part of the story aloud. She is teaching us how to be parents. We are learning as she learns. We get to love her and continue to shape her mind, but we need a lot of grace through the process. What an amazing (yet ridiculously challenging) gift. 

God teaches us that His compassions never fail because of a Great Love. We are made in His image and so have this fiery love for our own children. He also reminds us that His mercies are renewed each day. Therefore, we continue in faith, no matter what each day brings. So yes, I guess it is even possible for us to help Julia to continue to admire the rain as we weather these new, proverbial storms. After all, rain does indeed help things to become green and flourish. 

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

We Were Made to Hold on

Courtney Malone Photography

We are three weeks in as a family of four and we've been extremely fortunate to have many family members and friends come to love on us over the last few weeks. For me, it is one of the best parts of bringing baby home. With that said, I happen to have a couple of close friends who are weeks away from joining the "Family of Four Club." Naturally, they are very curious how it is really going. One of them jokingly remarked that it seemed like everything was going perfectly based on my Instagram posts. That was when it hit me that I had something more to share. 

Let's backtrack to week one of bringing home baby #2. We came home from the hospital on July 4th. For those of you who don't know, we have another daughter, Julia, who is 2 years and 8 months old. We intricately planned the logistics of how we'd bring baby home so that our oldest would assume her role as "Big Sis." We made sure she was at the hospital with us and that she rode home in the car and even helped carry the baby over the threshold. We wanted her to feel established and big and important. We were home only a few minutes before chaos ensued. Julia got out the baby play mat, laid under it, and reverted back to a full-blown, cooing, babbling baby. Our extremely verbal, capable toddler was acting just like an infant. You hear stories about kids reverting...but this...this was unreal. 

That same afternoon, I was doing my best to get the hang of breastfeeding without the support of a remote-controlled hospital bed. Having had a second c-section, sitting on the couch to feed was awkward and uncomfortable. As I am leading that ring of the circus, Julia begins to require one-on-one attention from her daddy. For the past two months, she has refused to poo in the potty OR in her diaper. She withholds for up to six days until it is painful. Well, homecoming day was one of those special, painful days. It lasted for three hours (whining, cramping, repeat) until she finally went. Homecoming day concluded as Julia and Chris watched fireworks from the driveway, and I was able to see a few out the living room window from my swivel chair as I fed the babe. 

I don't remember much about the next day. Late the following evening (around 1:30 am) Chris took his temperature and discovered he had a fever of 102.3. I, of course, banished him to the man cave to sleep and called my mom in the middle of the night to come help me. We changed the sheets and she slept over with me, helping with diaper changes every couple of hours. My mother-in-law immediately drove from the lake the next morning and picked up Julia. She took her to stay at the lake for a couple of days. Meanwhile, Chris went to the doctor the next day only to find out that he has some kind of virus that causes chills, fever, skin sensitivity, and loss of appetite. He had to stay away from baby for 48 hours post fever, so he spent his nights at his parent's house. He and Julia were finally able to rejoin us on Sunday. 

Fast forward to the second week where we ended up taking a middle-of-the-night trip to the ER for some (what turned out to be minor) complications. My mom, once again, came rushing over in the middle of the night to stay with Julia. From 2:00 am-6:00 am I had blood work and ultrasounds. In the midst of all that, I had to breastfeed an infant in my emergency room bed with an IV in one arm. It was laughable. After I was discharged, we stopped at McDonalds for  biscuit at sunrise and went straight home to sterilize ourselves and the baby. Truly, we just had to laugh.

As I think back on some of the sweet moments in all the aforementioned chaos, I remember my brother meeting Ilaria for the first time. As a doctor, he can't help but put his skills to use and check for things like infant reflexes. As he checked the grasp reflex, her tiny fingers instantly wrapped around his. It has stuck with me since then that we were literally made to hold on. From the beginning, one of our first instincts is to cling on. It is not the first time that this little phenomenon has left me inspired (read here). We were made to hold on. We need each other. We need our parents. We need our friends. Babies need their mommies. Mommies need their babies. We were made to hold on and we were made to  love and be loved. It was definitely not a mistake, but a tiny hint from God, that we come into the world with this need, literally.

Metaphorically speaking, we were also made to hold on. When life gets tough, we have to hold on. When life is really good, we joyfully hold on. On a roller coaster, through all the dips and whirls, you naturally grasp tightly. We hold on in gratitude, and we hold on in the expectation that we will continue to have something to grasp. Having something to cling to can also always be equated to the promise that we never walk alone.  

So, I guess you can say we've held on in the last few weeks and, honestly, it has been really, really good. We've had friends bring us meals and stay to keep us company. We've had great medical care. We've had family step in and care for us without question - at any hour. And, we have a beautiful new daughter to wrap her tiny fingers around ours and remind us (in case we almost forgot) that we were made for one another and to hold on. 

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Psalm 129:13

The Mystery of You

It was late in my pregnancy with Julia when I found myself nesting in the aisles of Homegoods, and an older woman approached me. These words flowed from her with the kind of wisdom only grandmothers and teachers can give: "Pregnancy is the only time we get to help God perform a miracle." What a joy-packed, life-giving, and grace-filled statement that is. 

As we are two days away from knowing the sex of our new baby, it does not escape me that God has once again allowed me to help Him. I am truly soaking up the anticipation and the excitement in these last days of wonder. When Wednesday comes, we will get to know our child a little more. Part of the mystery of who this little one is in there will be shown to us. Isn't it funny that I am physically carrying this baby as he or she lives within me, yet God already knows every minute detail? Every hair. Every attribute. Every smile. Every up. Every down. All the days to come? So, while we wait in anticipation of black and white ultrasound videos and a determination of sex, God has been there and will be there creating it all.

I can't help but think He grins a little over my literal dreams each night concerning the reveal. I bet he loves that we sit debating boy or girl, making silly predictions where we have a 50% chance of being right. Whether we realize it or not, all of these antics and conversations inevitably stem from the fact that we are completely in awe of creation and the divine nature of our Creator. 

Some people choose not to find out if their baby is a boy/girl and want to wait until birth. I think that's wonderful (and frankly I wish I had it within me!) but, finding out (for me) means that the pregnancy becomes less clinical and much more personally connected. I love that we can get to know this little person already. I am ecstatic to know whether we will have a son or daughter or if Julia will gain a brother or sister. I am not ignoring the fact that Wednesday also shows us the progression of development and the physical health of our baby. I am praying big things for this little one. 

There are few times in life with good, uncontrolled surprises. As I sit and contemplate a little longer, in a few days I know I'll wish  I remembered exactly what the unknown felt like. As I have dreamed of the future, I've always wondered how many sons and daughters we'd have and what they would be like. The unknown seems to be a dim place of earthy uncertainty but an opportunity to hold onto a bright, ethereal out-stretched hand from heaven. So, today I will sit here and look down at this little  growing bump, soaking up the mystery of it all. 

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1:20