November 3/4: Winston's Birth

There is a part of the mind that knows things before you really know things. That doesn't make much sense.  I think we have forgotten or not yet discovered how to commincate fully with our bodies. Part of yoga is learning how to do this better. I lead with this idea because I think a part of me knew Winston was going to come early or earlier than I had locked my brain into thinking. I was insistent we install the car seat. I made up the guest bed. Sunday I had braxton hicks off and on for the entire day.

November 2/4: Drumroll please

I've reached that point where random people from everywhere ask me "When are you due?" and "Do you know what you are having?" Maybe they form their thoughts as a statement, "Almost done!" or "You look about ready to pop!" I can see how things like this annoy other people, but it doesn't bother me. Everyone who talks about my belly and the baby has a smile. It's like a community celebration of life. I'll take it. Also, it garners sympathy in lines. I've had old men scooping up things I drop and customer service tends to be far more pleasent.

November 1/4: Choking on acid while thoughts elsewhere

My mind is turned inward. I don't remember if this happened the last two times. I was much more stubborn in my previous pregnancies. Less willing to give myself over to the process and changes of growing life. I've grown a bit more wise since them, more grateful, less anxious and controlling. I remember my friend in her last weeks. The way I would talk and her his gaze would be a bit off to the side. She was turned inward too. Listening to me, but listening to the messages of her body always. Soon. Soon. Soon.  

October 3/4: Second attempt

I did have this awesome blog post I already wrote on Wednesday. It was about fumbling through unexpected things and keeping faith. Then the power went out and my work was entirely lost. Aptly lost. It kept with the theme. Now I find myself uninspired to try to rehash the ease of that last post. Obviously, not cursing when the rug is pulled out from under one's feet is a good thing. Accpeting is even better. Moving on now.

Here are some of my current blessings:

October 2/4: Good Enough

One of the hardest things for me to overcome is a pervasive sense that I need to get things done. That my value is defined by my ability to control my life. It's something that motherhood has really helped me with as well as the kind modeling of some of my favorite fellow mothers. These women are awesome and flawed, but not ashamed to admit it. 

October 1/4: Honey festival and birth plans

We went to our local honey fesitval. It's low key but a lovely little gathering. The weather was an ideal fall day. A bit crispy and breezy, but still comfortable. River really enjoyed the blacksmithing tent and begged us to buy him a iron hook. So we ended up getting two hooks for the kids that I'd eventually like to use to hang up their jackets in the hall. Right now though, they just want to carry them around for play. My favorite was the small  civil war section where we learned about that era of hats and weapondry.

September 4/4: Welcome to the plague (first wave)

When your child gets sick, life enters a type of purgatory. One of therometers, bottles of sweet motrin in fruit-tastic flavors, pushing fluids with threats of lost cartoons, sleep interrupted by coughing, piles of snotty tissues overflowing wastebaskets and onto the floor, and windows that begin to look like prison bars trapping us all inside. The days of sickness seem to stretch. Was it really only three days? It felt like three hundred. I hate that my children are sick, but if they climb into my bed one more time, I may have to drag them out kicking and screaming.

September 3/4: Hearing different

Nothing slows this kid down. She's the child that has a fever and still runs around and won't stop talking. It doesn't really matter that she hears half as well as a fully hearing person. Not now that she has hearing aides. She misses a lot if she doesn't have her hearing aides in. In fact, she probably wasn't hearing the bulk of child conversation as high pitches were totally out of her range. But now she is. Every morning I pop in her pink hearing aides and she's off.

September 2/4: Baby denial

I think Jason and I have been in baby denial because suddenly we are coming out with the phrases, "I can't believe we have to do this again in two months." and "Do you realize that when this kid is River's age, River will be almost 14 years old?" Unlike previous pregnancies, I can't deny this feeling of dread. Dread for lost sleep. Dread for the pain of labor and recovery. Dread for the upheaval of our lives to adjust to another person. We know VERY well how hard it is to bring a newborn into the world and have a newborn in our lives.

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