Without even factoring in the feel of the humidity, it's registering 108F outside, a record tie in local history. Jason just installed a friend's extra window unit since it's 85F inside. I am melting! I was actually told that I looked small for 7mo pregnant. Still feels like I'm wearing a down vest with a (heavy) heater tucked under it. With each new baby I've taken up a new hobby or research topic while awake at odd quite hours: breastfeeding, adoptive breastfeeding, smocking, cloth diapering, healthy food, and now babywearing (venturing into the world of woven wrap, mei tai and non-padded ring sling). As steamy as it is right now, I wouldn't be voluntarily wearing anyone even though I really want to fully enjoy the experience with this baby. Thus I'm glad to wait a few more weeks. To be exact, I will be 31 weeks tomorrow and my babies have been evenly spaced from 36 to 39 weeks.
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Handsomeness
Next up in November, Caleb received a character award at school.
One of these things is not like the other. First day of school Caleb loved reporting that there was a brown Josiah and a brown Caleb in his class.
One of these things is not like the other. First day of school Caleb loved reporting that there was a brown Josiah and a brown Caleb in his class.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
I'll Love You Forever
A couple days ago Josiah grabbed the little book I'll Love You Forever off the shelf and snuggled up next to me. I obliged his request even though I've always found that book to be a little creepy, in the sweetest sort of way. I mean climbing into your grown son's window while he's sleeping to hold and sing to him? I needed to get a cathartic cry out of the way before today so I willed myself to let the sweetness win out. It didn't take much effort as just inside the cover was a dear friend's hope-filled inscription in anticipation of Lydia's birth. Then basically every other page reads this sappy "chorus":
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.
When you get to the end the son does similar sweet weirdness for his aged mother and flips the words. Hard turned to torture.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My Mommy you'll be.
This is the natural order of the parent-child relationship. Natural order went out the window soon after Lydia's textbook perfect birth.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.
When you get to the end the son does similar sweet weirdness for his aged mother and flips the words. Hard turned to torture.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My Mommy you'll be.
This is the natural order of the parent-child relationship. Natural order went out the window soon after Lydia's textbook perfect birth.
It was replaced with a life exponentially stranger and more endearing than the story line of I'll Love You Forever.
A hugely distended, "pierced" and scarred tummy, accessorized with hard plastic shoes, never looked so sweet.
I can think of few greater temporal joys than the first smile witnessed from your child in years, after finally treating the proper diagnosis.
Still the brokenness and intensity were too great for a novel length life. We came to appreciate and expect a short story for our girl.
Oh how I long to pick back up where we left off, but in a restored eternal order, for our first two-sided conversation. I promise to let you do most of the talking to make up for lost time.
After a morning of tearful reflection I sat down for some spiritual nourishment. Too much emotion and not enough substance make me irritable. I kept coming back to J. I. Packer quotes to clarify some of the conflict between what my pain actually is verses what it's generally presumed to be. “It has become conventional to think as if we are all going to live in this world forever and to view every case of bereavement as a reason for doubting the goodness of God.”
Being Lydia’s mom has been my course in desperately learning the counter-truth to this deception. Death indeed is horrible and unnatural. Please don’t ever call it a blessing even though it can bring great relief. Our souls were created for forever, not endings. God sent Adam and Eve out of the garden to separate them from a second potentially devastating tree, the tree of life. If they would have eaten from it after infecting themselves and the world with sin, physical immortality would be set in a broken state before restoration. This is not the kind of forever ordained by the Creator for them, us, or Lydia. While death is indeed an enemy, it is actually evidence of God’s goodness, a provision for restoration.
Even with this redeeming understanding, the pain of Lydia's death is just so great that it has knocked the breath out of my passion for Saturday. I know that this time between Christ's death and the full impact of His resurrection is a precious extension so that more may be brought into the fold for Sunday. I am selfishly just eager for the restoration, so I can naturally long for only those things He will satisfy. I want to live like I fully believe that He alone is enough.
“Materialism, with its corollary that this life is the only life for enjoying anything, has infected Christian minds producing the feeling that it is a cosmic outrage for anyone to have to leave this world before he or she has tasted all that it has to offer.” Everything this world had to offer Lydia paled in comparison to what we wanted for her. I imagine that is only a tiny taste of what motivated God to assure that death would be a part of this time to keep this life, with a hard relationship with Him, from being our climax.
On this September 17th, 11 years since your birth and 1 yr, 2 months and 12 days since your death I don't know which event displays God's goodness more. I marvel that our overwhelming joy, following your birth, was the prelude to your most epic pain. And that your overwhelming joy, following your death, was the prelude to ours. I treasure having been with you for both and would live them over again for the privilege of being your mother, dear sanctifying child.
Happy Birthday Lydia.
I'll love you forever,
I fought for you always,
For all of eternity
My baby you'll be.
Being Lydia’s mom has been my course in desperately learning the counter-truth to this deception. Death indeed is horrible and unnatural. Please don’t ever call it a blessing even though it can bring great relief. Our souls were created for forever, not endings. God sent Adam and Eve out of the garden to separate them from a second potentially devastating tree, the tree of life. If they would have eaten from it after infecting themselves and the world with sin, physical immortality would be set in a broken state before restoration. This is not the kind of forever ordained by the Creator for them, us, or Lydia. While death is indeed an enemy, it is actually evidence of God’s goodness, a provision for restoration.
Even with this redeeming understanding, the pain of Lydia's death is just so great that it has knocked the breath out of my passion for Saturday. I know that this time between Christ's death and the full impact of His resurrection is a precious extension so that more may be brought into the fold for Sunday. I am selfishly just eager for the restoration, so I can naturally long for only those things He will satisfy. I want to live like I fully believe that He alone is enough.
“Materialism, with its corollary that this life is the only life for enjoying anything, has infected Christian minds producing the feeling that it is a cosmic outrage for anyone to have to leave this world before he or she has tasted all that it has to offer.” Everything this world had to offer Lydia paled in comparison to what we wanted for her. I imagine that is only a tiny taste of what motivated God to assure that death would be a part of this time to keep this life, with a hard relationship with Him, from being our climax.
On this September 17th, 11 years since your birth and 1 yr, 2 months and 12 days since your death I don't know which event displays God's goodness more. I marvel that our overwhelming joy, following your birth, was the prelude to your most epic pain. And that your overwhelming joy, following your death, was the prelude to ours. I treasure having been with you for both and would live them over again for the privilege of being your mother, dear sanctifying child.
Happy Birthday Lydia.
I'll love you forever,
I fought for you always,
For all of eternity
My baby you'll be.
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