not There!

You may just get a few more posts out of me than expected before little Monkey is born. The thoughts keep rolling around in my head and writing them out helps me make sense of it all, and remember the journey! I’m 19 days away from the due date now, and at the rate I’m writing at, there may be a few pregnancy posts that actually get posted after Monkey is born. We shall see. :)

Lately, my list of places that I so don’t want to go into labor at is growing. I know that I can’t pick when or where it will happen, but having an idea and a list gives me some semblance of control, even if I don’t have any control at all.  Continue reading

on Sacrifice.

It was a Monday morning and the sun wasn’t up yet. My husband’s phone rang at 5:30am as I rolled over (is that possible at 8 months pregnant?), wondering who on Earth would be calling at such an hour. As it turns out, the school he teaches at was closed for the day due to snow. My alarm was set to go off half an hour later and I prayed that I’d find my work had been closed as well.

I checked the closure listing at 6am. And again at 6:10. And yet again at 6:20 and 6:30, but to no avail. At this point I simply had to get up, shower, and go to work. I hoped that since the vast majority of schools were closed, my drive wouldn’t be that awful. On a normal Monday morning, my drive to work is around 45 minutes. That Monday morning, however, the drive took me an hour and a half. It took me so long to get to work that I didn’t make it in time for morning Mass. Already tired from being pregnant, the early morning phone call and the commute that I thought would never end (I honestly considered pulling over for a power nap a few times), I finally got to work and dragged myself to my office. I checked and answered e-mails and phone calls and simply wanted to sit in my office and hide from the world. I’d made it to work and I had work to do, but Heaven help me if someone came by and actually wanted to talk to me, I was too cranky and tired for that nonsense. Continue reading

comparison and Envy.

I’m not sure that I’ve really given myself permission lately to feel whatever it is that I feel about these last weeks of pregnancy.

I have a fair amount of friends (five or more, but I lose track) who have due dates within ten days of mine. For the vast majority of those friends, this is their fourth pregnancy. These last few weeks, though, I’ve noticed that I don’t really feel something unless one of them is feeling it too. Week 34 I was utterly and completely exhausted – more so than I ever was during my first trimester. Though I was exhausted, I didn’t allow myself to feel the weight of that exhaustion until at least two of my pregnant friends felt the same way. Then, like a spell being cast, I felt it, admitted to it, and was okay feeling as tired as I was. Continue reading

on Family.

bissisterhood

Linking up, once again, with Blessed Is She and the weekly #BISsisterhood posts. This week’s theme: family.

Family, it seems, is an ever-changing concept in my world as of late. While it is always changing, it is also growing. In an obvious way, it grew when I got married. Before I had no one I could call “sister” in that sense, and now I have two. I’ve got cousins and family in farther reaches of the world than I ever did before. New relatives to meet, know, love, and hopefully someday visit (that’d be you, Lebanon!). My family grew to include my husband’s family, but my family also shrank, in a way. Continue reading

rend your Heart {again}.

Again? Yes, again. Three years ago (liturgical cycles!) the phrase that struck me on Ash Wednesday was “rend your heart” from the prophet Joel. Here we are, three years later, and the same phrase is grabbing my heart, though in an entirely different way.

I sat in Ash Wednesday Mass, the Mass in which nearly every family with small children attended. I was surrounded by infants, toddlers and little ones. As I listened to the readings, rubbing my pregnant belly all the while, my heart was moved by the simple phrase “rend your heart.” Certainly motherhood is going to rend my heart. I listened to the readings and watched these mothers and fathers wrangle their kids and teach them about what was happening and not to smudge the ashes on our foreheads. It was beautiful to see them sacrifice for their children, to, in effect, rend their hearts. Continue reading

the meaning of Sacrifice.

{I’m linking up for the next few weeks with Blessed Is She – which is fabulous, I can write stuff in advance! This week’s prompt is simply “sacrifice”…or so it was at some point. Apparently this week’s prompt changed to “marriage” and “sacrifice” is now on March 5, so I’ll just flip flop these…}

I’ve been thinking a fair amount about sacrifice lately, especially with Monkey’s due date mere weeks (less then 5!) away. No doubt I’ll sacrifice for her, things like sleep, showers, my hair getting done, etc., but that’s only a type of sacrifice.

In a lot of ways my own personal definition of sacrifice changes. At certain points in my life sacrifice has looked more like giving up something, i.e. soda, chocolate, etc. At other points, sacrifice has been more about my heart, my desire, my plans being laid at the foot of the cross for the sake of His heart, His desires, His plans. This year, right now in the beginning of this Lenten season, sacrifice is a beautiful and frustrating mix of both of those things. Continue reading

my husband isn’t Trained.

My husband isn’t trained to pause his video game and come downstairs to greet me when I get home after a long day.

My husband isn’t trained to take out the trash.

My husband isn’t trained to put his dishes in the dishwasher and set it to run.

My husband isn’t trained to pray with me or pray for me.

My husband isn’t trained to show up on time, do the laundry, make his lunch, or call me on his way home from work.

My husband simply isn’t trained. Continue reading