I seriously never thought it would ever really happen. I couldn't ever imagine being pregnant, enduring labor, and actually having a child of my own. As it occurs, I have accomplished all three of these things, but as I write now, in the wee hours of the morning because I have resorted to carrying my little one in my Moby Wrap as a soothing measure, and I surely cannot sleep with baby all wrapped up against me, I find it difficult to believe that I actually was pregnant and I actually did endure labor. Pregnancy came and went so briskly that now it seems as though I dreamed the entire process. While my body has very nearly returned to its pre-pregnancy state, it is difficult for me to believe that my belly actually did protrude so much so that I had trouble getting into and out of bed, tying my shoes, and taking a bath. I suppose that belly growth occurs so rapidly so near to the end of a pregnancy, that when it is all over, it seems as though it happened in the blink of an eye. How ironic, really, because just a little over a month ago, I was praying for my baby to arrive so I could be finished with my pregnancy...it couldn't happen soon enough, and now that it is all done, I cannot believe I was ever pregnant to begin with.
Now, I have entered what they call the fourth trimester...which is a clever designation for the parental experience of a child's first three months of life. This part is an adventure I hope to savor. It is difficult. Far more difficult than pregnancy was, but at the same time, it is a precious time in my life. I treasure it, in a distorted, sleep deprived way.
Now, I am going to wake up the husband, as he will relieve me of soothing duties so I can have a sleep shift. I would love to say there is more to come on the topics of labor/delivery and parenthood, but who knows? This new life of mine is rather unpredictable, and I have learned I cannot really make plans for much of anything at present. But I would like to write more on these topics, and if I have another Moby Wrap soothing night in the near future, I will.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Things I Cannot Wait to Do Again
I am presently 34 and a half weeks pregnant, and I haven't blogged much because the past few months have been crazy...I am working, in grad school, I am preparing the house for the new baby, and my dad had heart surgery two months ago, which knocked my socks off, upsetting my routine a bit, as well. Dad is doing great now (Thanks be to God!) and with the approach of my baby's due date, I have been looking for ways to de-stress, and blogging this morning just might help.
I woke early this morning (it happens a lot now that I am nearing the end of my pregnancy) and I began to list in my mind the things I am looking forward to doing again, once the baby arrives. There are things I have happily avoided for the past 8 months, in which I am looking forward to indulging again very soon. Here is my pregnant woman's wish list for things I want to do after baby's birth:
1. wear all of my old clothes - this one may take a little while, but I will get there
2. drink wine
3. eat sushi
4. eat cold cut sandwiches
5. have a normal, non-nauseated constitution again
That about sums it up...I am pretty excited about the fact that I will get to enjoy these things again really really soon.
I woke early this morning (it happens a lot now that I am nearing the end of my pregnancy) and I began to list in my mind the things I am looking forward to doing again, once the baby arrives. There are things I have happily avoided for the past 8 months, in which I am looking forward to indulging again very soon. Here is my pregnant woman's wish list for things I want to do after baby's birth:
1. wear all of my old clothes - this one may take a little while, but I will get there
2. drink wine
3. eat sushi
4. eat cold cut sandwiches
5. have a normal, non-nauseated constitution again
That about sums it up...I am pretty excited about the fact that I will get to enjoy these things again really really soon.
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Alps
A little over a year ago, Philip and I missed our flight into Paris for the start of a beautiful European vacation. As a consequence of this mishap, we were re-routed into Switzerland for a brief layover before sojourning on to our appointed destination. It was in the descent into and ascent out of Switzerland that I first encountered them: the Alps.
I wish I had taken a photograph of this majestic mountain range. Since I did not, I will attempt to describe it here. From my sky-view, I perceived what I thought were rigid clouds suspended within the crystal blue ceiling. Upon closer investigation, however, I realized those rigid clouds were not clouds at all, but pinnacles, pointed peaks, penetrating the hazy atmosphere, and the serene drifting of the actual clouds, the actual vapor, blanketing the mountaintops is what gave me the impression that these pointed peaks were suspended, apart from their bases, lifted out of the earth and floating towards the heavens.
As we descended towards the lush green earth, my vision could not even contain the whole of one mountain, and I saw, that in spite of the fact that these structures appeared, from the air, to be floating in the atmosphere, they were, in fact, rooted to the ground on foundations far more imposing than their jagged spires.
We spent no more than an hour total in Switzerland before heading off to resume our journey into Paris, but the Alps made an impression on me. So firm, so unmoving, so unconditional and solid.
In my microcosm in this life, my dad is my Alps. He has always been solid, stable, and his love is unconditional. He taught me how to love, and his was the first visage of God's love to my humble life. As the Alps, in their majesty, somehow connect the heavens and the earth, my dad has done the same in my life through his deep, unmoving love and his selflessness, which has been a picture to me of the way Christ loves.
This week, my Alps have experienced what in my mind is absolutely unthinkable. My Alps have suffered an earthquake. As my dad sleeps in his hospital bed, preparing for a day of open heart surgery, I pray that God's love will blanket him, and that even my love can weave strands through God's blanket, and that God will allow my dad to survive this disaster and recover quickly. The Alps, after all, are an integral part of the world's landscape.
I wish I had taken a photograph of this majestic mountain range. Since I did not, I will attempt to describe it here. From my sky-view, I perceived what I thought were rigid clouds suspended within the crystal blue ceiling. Upon closer investigation, however, I realized those rigid clouds were not clouds at all, but pinnacles, pointed peaks, penetrating the hazy atmosphere, and the serene drifting of the actual clouds, the actual vapor, blanketing the mountaintops is what gave me the impression that these pointed peaks were suspended, apart from their bases, lifted out of the earth and floating towards the heavens.
As we descended towards the lush green earth, my vision could not even contain the whole of one mountain, and I saw, that in spite of the fact that these structures appeared, from the air, to be floating in the atmosphere, they were, in fact, rooted to the ground on foundations far more imposing than their jagged spires.
We spent no more than an hour total in Switzerland before heading off to resume our journey into Paris, but the Alps made an impression on me. So firm, so unmoving, so unconditional and solid.
In my microcosm in this life, my dad is my Alps. He has always been solid, stable, and his love is unconditional. He taught me how to love, and his was the first visage of God's love to my humble life. As the Alps, in their majesty, somehow connect the heavens and the earth, my dad has done the same in my life through his deep, unmoving love and his selflessness, which has been a picture to me of the way Christ loves.
This week, my Alps have experienced what in my mind is absolutely unthinkable. My Alps have suffered an earthquake. As my dad sleeps in his hospital bed, preparing for a day of open heart surgery, I pray that God's love will blanket him, and that even my love can weave strands through God's blanket, and that God will allow my dad to survive this disaster and recover quickly. The Alps, after all, are an integral part of the world's landscape.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Keeping Full
With this new stage I have entered, the mommy-to-be stage, have come certain challenges I have had to overcome. The greatest has been the challenge of eating. What should I eat that is good for the little baby growing in me and what can my appetite handle without igniting a case of the heaves? I suffered with atrocious morning sickness for a couple of months, and while the worst is over, I am still battling the nuisance of random bouts of nausea. Okay, they are not really random because they occur at regular intervals if my belly is not kept at full capacity, so I am still battling the nuisance of regular, anticipated, bouts of nausea. My newest concern, then, is: How do I cope with hunger nausea when I am at work?
I have recently acquired an amazing job that I cannot wait to begin, but with the position will come stretches of time away from my trusty microwave and refrigerator. Lately, I have combated the onset of nausea by eating frequently, and most of what I have eaten has been left overs such as mom's gumbo, a dish my husband coined "Pasta FaJulie," and other foods my mom or I whip up in bulk, which I can easily reheat just when my stomach starts yelling at me. This, however, will shortly become an impossibility. What to do?
My solution: concoct cold dishes that I can travel with in a chilled insulated lunch box, and then, I can nibble all day long, hopefully allaying the emergence of the queasies.
Here is what I have come up with:
#1: Pasta Salad
This is a delightful recipe from the Summer section of
#2: Ambrosia Fruit Salad
and
#3: Strawberry Bread-not a cold dish, per se, but one that doesn't need to be heated
The Ambrosia recipe and Strawberry Bread both come from my absolute favorite cookbook in the entire world...
and, so, there you have it. Beginning tomorrow, I have three long days of orientation for the Cabarrus County School System. Three days away from my microwave, but that is A-OK. My pasta salad, ambrosia, and strawberry bread will keep my belly full in between the breakfast and lunch my fabulous new school district will be providing to me. Yay! I can beat pregnancy nausea, after all!
I have recently acquired an amazing job that I cannot wait to begin, but with the position will come stretches of time away from my trusty microwave and refrigerator. Lately, I have combated the onset of nausea by eating frequently, and most of what I have eaten has been left overs such as mom's gumbo, a dish my husband coined "Pasta FaJulie," and other foods my mom or I whip up in bulk, which I can easily reheat just when my stomach starts yelling at me. This, however, will shortly become an impossibility. What to do?
My solution: concoct cold dishes that I can travel with in a chilled insulated lunch box, and then, I can nibble all day long, hopefully allaying the emergence of the queasies.
Here is what I have come up with:
#1: Pasta Salad
This is a delightful recipe from the Summer section of
#2: Ambrosia Fruit Salad
and
#3: Strawberry Bread-not a cold dish, per se, but one that doesn't need to be heated
The Ambrosia recipe and Strawberry Bread both come from my absolute favorite cookbook in the entire world...
and, so, there you have it. Beginning tomorrow, I have three long days of orientation for the Cabarrus County School System. Three days away from my microwave, but that is A-OK. My pasta salad, ambrosia, and strawberry bread will keep my belly full in between the breakfast and lunch my fabulous new school district will be providing to me. Yay! I can beat pregnancy nausea, after all!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
I am Putting on My 30s Hat
I am officially a grown up. I have three very substantial evidences to prove such.
#1: I am 30 years old. Farewell, twenties. You were good to me--far better than the single digits or the tens were. I will always treasure your memory with fondness and sincerity, but alas, I must move ahead. Youth does not last forever, and if it did, it would come at a rather large price. Just ask Dorian Gray. He sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth and the pleasure that accompanies such perpetual vigor. Watch the movie, Dorian Gray, or read the novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde--it's even better. In the movie, the older Dorian, uncorrupted by age, notes, "I assure you, pleasure is very different from happiness. I mean, some things are more precious because they don't last." My twenties were precious. My thirties will be also.
#2: I am pregnant. Three and a half months pregnant, to be exact. If there is ever a reason to grow up, this would be the one. In less than six months, there will be a little being that depends on me for its survival. It is a beautifully daunting responsibility, but one I look forward to. I hope I don't screw up the little life all too badly. I hope God's grace is sufficient for parenthood.
and, *sigh*
#3: I have a few gray hairs. I found the first one in my eyebrows several months ago. Thank God for tweezers! However, at the time, I didn't know whether it had any kin abiding on my scalp because I had an established practice of coloring my coif. Now, however, I am 100% natural, and I have found a couple of shiny gray strands among the mousy brown. I did say they were shiny, and that is thanks to these fabulous pregnancy hormones that are eliciting a hardy sheen.
So, yes. I am officially all grown up...but being a grown up isn't all that bad. In fact, I think I am gonna like this stage of life.
#1: I am 30 years old. Farewell, twenties. You were good to me--far better than the single digits or the tens were. I will always treasure your memory with fondness and sincerity, but alas, I must move ahead. Youth does not last forever, and if it did, it would come at a rather large price. Just ask Dorian Gray. He sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth and the pleasure that accompanies such perpetual vigor. Watch the movie, Dorian Gray, or read the novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde--it's even better. In the movie, the older Dorian, uncorrupted by age, notes, "I assure you, pleasure is very different from happiness. I mean, some things are more precious because they don't last." My twenties were precious. My thirties will be also.
#2: I am pregnant. Three and a half months pregnant, to be exact. If there is ever a reason to grow up, this would be the one. In less than six months, there will be a little being that depends on me for its survival. It is a beautifully daunting responsibility, but one I look forward to. I hope I don't screw up the little life all too badly. I hope God's grace is sufficient for parenthood.
and, *sigh*
#3: I have a few gray hairs. I found the first one in my eyebrows several months ago. Thank God for tweezers! However, at the time, I didn't know whether it had any kin abiding on my scalp because I had an established practice of coloring my coif. Now, however, I am 100% natural, and I have found a couple of shiny gray strands among the mousy brown. I did say they were shiny, and that is thanks to these fabulous pregnancy hormones that are eliciting a hardy sheen.
So, yes. I am officially all grown up...but being a grown up isn't all that bad. In fact, I think I am gonna like this stage of life.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Morning Sickness
My body has undertaken the laborious task of building a baby from just a few cells. The process began sometime in April, and let me tell you, the work has been arduous. I am currently twelve weeks and three days pregnant, and I became the victim of the misnamed ailment known as morning sickness for about five weeks now. It is getting old.
I didn't mind the fact that I lost my appetite in the beginning of my pregnancy. In fact, for a few weeks there, I was eating the healthiest food around: chunks of juicy orange cantaloupe, leafy green salads, and plump strawberries freshly picked from a nearby farm. I didn't even mind when my body began to solicit breakfast sausage and other crispy meaty indulgences of the sort. What I do mind is the ever present nagging torment of nausea that plagues me with its incessant companionship and has done so for weeks now. This nuisance has absconded all pleasure I once derived from the act of eating, and it has beleaguered me with vexatious fits of dry heaving. There was the harrowing week of indefatigable vomiting, which seems to have ceased (and I certainly hope I am not jinxing the progress by committing this to typeface). Nevertheless, the relentless contortions of my esophagus and the agonizing salivation accompanying the regurgitation of air have yet to emancipate their captive.
When will the joys of the second trimester of pregnancy bestow themselves upon me? What if I am doomed to be one of the few women who experience this malady throughout the entire pregnancy? I didn't realize that the curse of "pain in childbirth" duly encompassed the hex of gestational dyspepsia. Lord, please have mercy on this mother to be!
I didn't mind the fact that I lost my appetite in the beginning of my pregnancy. In fact, for a few weeks there, I was eating the healthiest food around: chunks of juicy orange cantaloupe, leafy green salads, and plump strawberries freshly picked from a nearby farm. I didn't even mind when my body began to solicit breakfast sausage and other crispy meaty indulgences of the sort. What I do mind is the ever present nagging torment of nausea that plagues me with its incessant companionship and has done so for weeks now. This nuisance has absconded all pleasure I once derived from the act of eating, and it has beleaguered me with vexatious fits of dry heaving. There was the harrowing week of indefatigable vomiting, which seems to have ceased (and I certainly hope I am not jinxing the progress by committing this to typeface). Nevertheless, the relentless contortions of my esophagus and the agonizing salivation accompanying the regurgitation of air have yet to emancipate their captive.
When will the joys of the second trimester of pregnancy bestow themselves upon me? What if I am doomed to be one of the few women who experience this malady throughout the entire pregnancy? I didn't realize that the curse of "pain in childbirth" duly encompassed the hex of gestational dyspepsia. Lord, please have mercy on this mother to be!
Friday, April 8, 2011
Trade Off
I traded a life of luxury for the pacific. I traded ambition for calm. It has been two and a half weeks since I last punched the clock, and I have made some observations while realizing my freedom.
To start, we have so much, but need so little. A gym membership is great, especially in the winter, but in this time of new beginnings when the world is bursting forth in many shades of green, how nice it is to exercise among the trees. How much more entertaining to me are the cardinals and blue birds flying overhead, with their soft, sweet voices, than the news and do-it-yourself TV stations oft airing in the gym.
Restaurants are inviting; who doesn't love being served? But one can appreciate the opportunity to cook meals from scratch and enjoy them on the patio, in the brisk, spring air.
Most importantly, I relish the time...no more deadlines, no more expectations, just peace. The only people I need to please are my two cats and my husband (and God, of course), and because they all love me so, it isn't an impossible feat.
Nevertheless, in the midst of all this, I do wonder what my next step will look like. Where will I be in one year? Six months? While I know it is vital for me to embrace this simple life, I am a planner, and I cannot help but peer into my future, musing over what will be. I appreciate my present, but probably not nearly enough, for I have dreams I wish to see realized, and they will come at the cost of the simplicity within which I presently dwell. However, when I trade the pacific for the hustle and bustle, it will be, this time, on my terms, preserving my soul and my heart and the essence of me.
To start, we have so much, but need so little. A gym membership is great, especially in the winter, but in this time of new beginnings when the world is bursting forth in many shades of green, how nice it is to exercise among the trees. How much more entertaining to me are the cardinals and blue birds flying overhead, with their soft, sweet voices, than the news and do-it-yourself TV stations oft airing in the gym.
Restaurants are inviting; who doesn't love being served? But one can appreciate the opportunity to cook meals from scratch and enjoy them on the patio, in the brisk, spring air.
Most importantly, I relish the time...no more deadlines, no more expectations, just peace. The only people I need to please are my two cats and my husband (and God, of course), and because they all love me so, it isn't an impossible feat.
Nevertheless, in the midst of all this, I do wonder what my next step will look like. Where will I be in one year? Six months? While I know it is vital for me to embrace this simple life, I am a planner, and I cannot help but peer into my future, musing over what will be. I appreciate my present, but probably not nearly enough, for I have dreams I wish to see realized, and they will come at the cost of the simplicity within which I presently dwell. However, when I trade the pacific for the hustle and bustle, it will be, this time, on my terms, preserving my soul and my heart and the essence of me.
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