Quiet Sunday, Random Thoughts

Enjoy the week in pictures:
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This morning welcomed us as most do: a preschooler ready to up and at’um while I toss pillows at him to go back to sleep (ooooorrrrrrrr chase him to his room, endure his upset crying, raise my voice, wake up the whole house, try miserably to get back to sleep, etc etc etc).

Finally we rolled out of bed (after we gave up and invited him into ours) and found a tad burst of energy (okay, maybe it was the coffee) to make pancakes, pick up the house, watch a little news, and get through a few more small boxes. We all had long-awaited appointments with “Mama the Beautician”, too. Lil’ E was first in line for a short haircut, followed by Mama (me, in case that wasn’t obvious) who treated herself to a warm shower and subsequent lathering of lavender almond oil with freshly painted toenails. Last came Hubby; haircut as well.

I’m looking at those dark red little toenails now and assuming this day will be the last I can reach them until my hiccuping Verity vacates the premises. I can hardly believe I’ve got about a month to go- it seems only a month ago I found out I was expecting again.

Though the beginning of this journey (pregnancy) was very difficult, and still is in a number of ways, I am slowly getting used to the idea– (I even purchased my first item for her this weekend- a sweet little homemade vintage-style jumper dress for 8 bucks at Vintage on Hawthorne — I smile every time I see it and can’t bring myself to fold it up and put it in her drawers yet). I am also so grateful for a healthy body that strongly carries babies to fruition. Maybe that sounds weird, but its true. Even when things are difficult otherwise, I do have much thankfulness and confidence in my body’s abilities when it comes to things like this. I feel, on the whole, capable, well-nourished, and balanced — despite fatigue, hormonal and emotional ups and downs, life stressors and spiritual dryness. Maybe the hot shower, lavender oil, and fresh home-brewed Kombucha has set me into the “my body ROCKS” mentality, but I really am grateful for all it has given me, and of course to God for the blessing. I love how the less I mess with my body, the better it is. For example, I’ve seen a clinic/hospital medical doctor probably less than 5 times in 20 years (I assume I went more in my early years for shots and stuff, but since then it’s been almost nil). I believe in listening to my body and giving it the time and nourishment to heal itself from ailments I have grown a lot stronger. I used to think I was so odd because my dad never took me “in” for antibiotics or check-ups like most of my friends did several times a year. Now I am SO grateful, because that gave me the opportunity to learn to deal with the causes rather than the symptoms, allowing me to heal from the inside out. Though I fail all the time with regards to nutritional and physical neglect, time and again my body responds to gentle aids and preventative lifestyle changes so well, and I feel more healthy this year than any year prior in my life.

What I’m getting at is this: I trust my body with this pregnancy, and with the upcoming labor. I know that God has His hands on me, bringing life into the world in the most miraculous way (not only in the astounding universal physical way, but in our own unique story as a recovering couple and my journey during this pregnancy- with depression, anger, fear, acceptance, forgiveness, boundaries, rest, simplicity, humility, homesickness, helplessness, miracles, surrender, on and on and on! Phew- it’s been a pretty darn exhausting detox!).

Right now, my vision for this birth is one of acceptance. I accept the timing of labor, calling it neither “early” “on time” or “late”. I accept the labor experience, whether an ideal homebirth or not – even a c-section. I just accept it. My natural tendency is to control my situations, to dread the possible outcomes and anticipate my disappointment – all pretty prideful, actually. While I have a hope for the birth, I remember that I am not the scriptwriter for my life, or anyone elses — including my children or husband. 7 years ago, my hopes and ideals for my marriage were so very far from the reality of the experience I have had — and yet, all is well. My hopes and ideals for my son’s life and myself as a mother have also proved to be an experience I was completely unprepared to handle – but all is well there too.

It’s fairly accurate to say that I used to think as through I was the artist of my life, painting out what the finished work should look like (while carefully protecting myself from mistakes). My “masterpiece” was quite a mess, wasn’t it? All those colors kinda became that brownish-gray that comes from the frantic pursuit to correct the “wrongs” and the canvas was soaked and overworked. How much more delightful it is to sit back and watch the real Master at work and accept the patterns and movements as part of His plan.

I have so enjoyed some sweet conversations with friends – fellow mothers – these last few days, and some great laughter too. My heart is filled with gratitude for being able to release through story-telling, confessions, and concern for others as well. I hope to enter the week ahead with a wiser head on my shoulders, with less victim-thinking and more surrender. I hope to step out of my self-condemnation and into true repentance; to get a bit further passed the hang ups of my failures and allow myself to receive the grace of a loving Father.

Sure, I also hope to get some days to sleep in – some mornings to wake up to peace rather than annoyance. But what I really desire is to wake up to ANYTHING and still be able to say, it is well.