A Moment's Ramble

Contentment

2009-08-17T09:52:00.002-04:00

It's hard to truly be content in any and every situation. It's much easier to endlessly play the "if only" game. Somehow or other, whether by the media or our culture or just our inherent brokenness, the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence.

But there's another insidious way this tendency also plays out, I think. Perhaps we reveal our discontent by our subtle enjoyment of others misfortunes, even the silly minor ones. A friend has a child and suddenly discovers just how tiring motherhood is - and we mothers gloat just a little bit. "Ha, NOW she knows." A single friend gets married and learns that with its joys are also a whole new set of challenges, frustrations, and even times of loneliness - and we married people chuckle little "I told you so's" under our breath.

Why do we do this? Why do we not only play the comparison game that sets ourselves up for disappointment, but also find the need to revel when it seems the lives of others are just as disappointing as our own?

I want to be the kind of person who is fully present in my moments, my life, my calling. I want to be so fully there that it doesn't occur to me to either long for something else or to lose my sense of empathy for others. I want to be the kind of person with whom others feel comfortable, even blessed and refreshed. I want that kind of contentment that not only allows me to face each day with joy but that overflows and touches the world around me.

Yeah.

Fear not

2009-07-15T14:51:00.002-04:00

So I went to see perinatologist yesterday to talk about *gulp* another pregnancy. What would my risk factors be for delivering 2 months early again? Anything I can do to avoid it? Turns out there's not much I can do. 20% chance I'll deliver that early again, or 10% chance with a certain hormone drug. And monitoring and the potential for bedrest. That's it. No guarantees, no answers as to why this happened to me and Brennan this time.

It's taken me a good six months to get to this point where I'd even consider another baby - Brennan's birth was very traumatic. I wasn't sure I wanted to take the risk again. But there's a growing desire in me to have another child - less for me, although it would be so wonderful to have a little girl, or another amazing little boy - but more for Brennan. So he can have a sibling to love, play with, fight with, commiserate with, grow with, and be family after Eric and I are gone.

The appointment was a necessary step for in this process for me then. Even though the reality is, if I have another pregnancy, it will either go smoothly, or it won't. That's just life. And wow, as a mom, I am realizing more and more that life is full of things to scare you. Just last week a mom, her six-week old baby, and 18 month old child were in a horrible car accident. The mom died on the scene. The baby died in the arms of its grandparent. The toddler is in critical condition. And the dad was out of the country when it happened. Accidents, illness, crime, mistakes, pain, loss - life is filled with the potential for any of these to happen at any moment.

Eric has been reading Everything Belongs by Richard Rohr. He beat me to it. And after telling him about the appointment, he shared this thought from the book: It's a horrible thing to live a life ruled by fear. It's constricting, paralyzing. He should know - much of his life has been ruled by fear. His advice - if we want to have another baby, we should have another baby. This coming from my odds-weighing, fact-analyzing, caution-filled husband? But he's right.

The chance that things could go poorly again shouldn't stop us. It doesn't stop me from getting in the car with Brennan every day. It doesn't stop me from letting Eric leave every day for work and some days for sailing. It doesn't stop me from eating food that perhaps isn't the healthiest for me on occasion (okay, more than "on occasion"). Do I want to live a full life of chances taken, opportunities seized, of moments lived fully or a carefully ordered life that safely avoids any chance that I might lose control, forgetting that control is an illusion anyway?

I think I have my answer on that.

The days can be long.

2009-07-10T18:09:00.002-04:00

It's 6pm. Is he napping? Nope. I'm hearing little noises in the monitor....

(later)

The days can be long lately. Even with an activity in a given day - visiting a friend, going grocery shopping, going for a morning walk or run - the late afternoon and early evening hours seem to stretch out too far. And I feel alone. Eric gets home usually just in time to hold Brennan a minute, change his diaper, feed him, and put him to bed. Until then, I have to try to figure out what to do with this dear little guy who doesn't want to play on his playmat, doesn't want to have a book read to him, doesn't want to watch Gilmore Girls with Mommy, doesn't want to be held, doesn't want to be put down, and doesn't want to nap. It's not that he's crying or screaming or anything. He's just tiring.

I feel lost sometimes. I'd like to blog, but I am never sure if I'll have the time or not - will he nap longer than 40 minutes? Or should I nap? Or should I do some laundry? Or prepare some dinner? My sister-in-law is taking a photo a day - almost every one gorgeous and artistic and creative. I'm hardly taking photos of Brennan, much less anything else. It's hard when he can't sit up yet and mostly hates tummy time longer than 2 minutes.

Today I went into his room while he was napping, picked him up, and just rocked with him for 20 minutes or so. Cried a little bit. And smiled some. It was a nice moment in the long day.

Living in the Moment

2009-06-18T14:39:00.003-04:00

These days I am beginning to understand more and more of what it means to truly live in the moment. It's very hard to make concrete plans for the future when I've got this six-month old little guy (it's his birthday today, by the way) who may well have other ideas. You just don't know when he's going to have a crabby day or a happy day. If he's going to stay asleep for mommy to make another batch of strawberry jam or not. If he's going to go to sleep when we try to put him down so mommy and daddy can have some time together. If' he's going to have a meltdown in the car as we drive home from Meijer's or not.

So here's this moment, and he's smiling at me, talking to me, and playing the "sticking out my tongue" game. And here's this moment, when he's asleep next to me in bed in the morning, looking so sweet and precious it about breaks my heart. And here's this moment, when I it takes everything I have to contain my frustration and try to outlast his squirmy, fussy desire to stay awake instead of nap. And here's this moment, when memories of his birth, first month in the NICU, and first day at home flood over me. And here's this moment, when I have a chance to write some thoughts down.

And if the house doesn't get cleaned, and if the meal plan turns into mac 'n' cheese, and if the landscaping is getting a bit weedy, and if I'm not sure when I'll start working out regularly again, and if the photography hobby gets put on hold for a bit - it's okay. I have to remind myself. Really, it is. I don't get this moment back.

Runaway Bunny theology

2009-06-17T09:14:00.003-04:00

I love the story of The Runaway Bunny. I was reading it to Brennan this morning (who really seems to like being read to - yes!) and suddenly saw it through more than just "the love of a parent" eyes.

Seems it's a great metaphor for the love of Jesus, too. Wherever we run, however we fail to live the way he created us to, he's always there, searching us out, guiding our journeys, waiting to embrace us. No rebellion is too great or too persistent to convince him to give up on us. Instead, he never ceases luring us, pursuing us, finding us, blowing us where he wants us to go, and being that place we can come home to - where he is always ready and waiting to catch us in his arms and hug us.

And now for some great irony - there's a bunny outside eating my perennials as I write.

Weekly Milestones

2009-06-14T11:05:00.000-04:00

Brennan can lift his head and support himself on his arms during tummy time! So cute! Now he can tolerate it for 2-3 minutes instead of 30 seconds.

Raspberries! Every day is filled with happy tongue-sticking-out bubble blowing. He gets a big kick out of it if mommy raspberries back.

13 lb 3 oz at the pediatrician. Wow. Almost 10 lbs more than he was at birth. Plus, Mommy finally cracked out the 3-6 month clothes. Especially the jammies. Those big cloth diapers make his torso awfully long!

Stopped reflux medication. The pediatrician said that both meds could make babies cranky, and perhaps we were at the point that we were doing more harm than good. Stopped Zantac on Wednesday and Prevacid on Friday. He does seem so much happier while nursing!
LOTS of night waking. Crabby and fussy at bedtime. It seems that with his esophageal sphincter getting stronger and the reflux decreasing, now we can't get burps out of him. Especially during night feedings. An hour after Eric or I put him down - he's up and crying and uncomfortable. Yesterday it happened during naptime - and he was SCREAMING in pain. On top of it all, he lost his voice from all the crying. :(

BUT - Friday night - he slept from 9:30pm till 4:00am! Saturday night, he went to bed quietly at 8:00, woke up twice to eat, but slept SOUNDLY between feedings, no burp awakenings, no multiple awakenings in the morning. Hurrah!

First visit at Aunt Micki's. Disaster. Fussy, overtired Brennan; exhausted, overwhelmed Mommy.

Laughter. Mommy found a ticklish spot by squeezing his back just above his pelvis. He laughed and laughed. What a hoot!

25 weeks old. Almost half a year this little miracle has been stealing our hearts.

On a One-Handed Life

2009-06-13T09:29:00.000-04:00

Motherhood should be called "The Art of One-Handedness." Seriously. It's amazing the things I can now do with only one hand - the other hand, of course, being occupied with holding Brennan. Weeding, eating fairly complex meals, feeding the cats (which involves opening a fairly large container), putting on socks, even using the bathroom. It's astounding how talented I didn't even know I am.

I also have a beef with a certain very popular yet will remain unnamed company that specializes in nursing accessories. Their nursing bras are made for decidedly two-handed people. How on earth they expect a mom to quickly and unobtrusively reattach her apparal when the apparatus involves sliding a tiny little latch thing into a tiny little compartment thing - the compartment thing, of course, attaches to the bra at only one end, leaving the majority of it to flop up and down in abject avoidance of ever accepting the latch thing. On rare occasions I have managed to cajole the compartment thing into remaining calm enough to sneak the little latch thing back in, but most of the time I had to lay baby down, use my other hand, stabilize the mechanism, connect it all, and THEN go on with life.

Enough is enough. I bought another brand of nursing bra.

Last Times

2009-06-08T17:27:00.000-04:00

Several months ago I was reading through a series of novels to this woman in the nursing home at which I volunteer. In one book, the mother of this family writes a letter to her son who is getting married in which she talks about the "last times." It's easy to commemorate the "first times" - the first smile, first tooth, first step, first date, but the last times often slip past us and are gone before we realize it, leaving only a bittersweet memory in hindsight.

As a parent who is not only celebrating the joys of finally being able to be one but yet also realizing that I may never have this opportunity again due to the potentential problems of another pregnancy, I feel the realization of those last times especially hard. Today I tried to get Brennan (who was, albeit, extremely overtired) to fall asleep on my chest so we could nap together on the recliner like we used to do. He just wouldn't relax and wanted nothing to do with it. On top of the fact that he was having a rough day, that realization that we might never spend that special naptime together again that way got me really choked up. How quickly things change. He's only been taking naps in his bassinet for just over a month.

And then I remembered, too, the forgotton "last time" of skin-on-skin naptime like we used to do every day in the NICU and only sporadically in the first month he came home. That, too, is likely gone and I don't even remember when that last time was.

I wish I had treasured it more.

Cancer. And death.

2009-06-01T16:24:00.000-04:00

My friend's mom is dying of cancer. At first, when her once-stable leukemia took a turn for the worse it wasn't good, but it didn't have that immediacy of mortality. I have to admit sometimes I rolled my eyes when I got the several-times-weekly health updates - "do I really need to know the details about each and every doctor appointment???"

But in the last few weeks everything has come racing to the end. First hospice care at home, then scares with sudden mental status changes, then continued downhill progression of rapid tumor growth, and progressive weakness. Now it seems the end is within days, or a couple weeks at most.

It has been so hard for me to know what to say or do. I've replied to emails with encouragement and words of prayers, I've left phone messages to say I'm thinking of her and her family - but I don't want to be overbearing or expect return messages when life is so overwhelming right now. It's easy to say "let me know if there's anything I can do" - but it's so rare that people take one up on that offer. Words fail - last email I sent to her sounded like a trite sympathy card phrase - albeit one from the Christian bookstore.

The thing that has been often on my mind through her journey is the knowledge that it will be my journey someday, too. My dad's cancer is stable for now, though it's loomed threateningly from time to time over the past several years, he's still doing well. Eric and I know all too well that one day it will all come crashing down for him, too. And I'll be in my friend's shoes - sending out updates, leaving caring friends wondering exactly how they can support me, stumbling over awkward words.

I am so incredibly grateful for the life my dad has been able to live. He's seen four grandchildren come into this world - including, miraculously, one of my own. Though their marriage is far from perfect, he and my mother have renewed their relationship over the last several years. He grows their garden, makes vacation plans, sings with a choir... all elements of normal life, even with the threat of cancer hanging constantly over his head.

As real as that cancer continues to be, and as fully aware as I am that his health will likely fail sooner rather than later, I still can't imagine facing the end as my friend is now doing. And as inadequately as words can express, my heart goes out to her.

Rant

2009-05-29T17:36:00.001-04:00

Why aren't shopping carts better designed for balancing car seats? It seems I either have to tip Brennan back so his toes are higher than his head or sit him so far forward it doesnt' seem safe. You'd think someone could have created a more mommy-friendly design by now.

Music - by Anne Porter

2009-05-27T18:15:00.000-04:00

Once in awhile I get to hear Garrison Keillor read the daily Writers Almanac on Blue Lake Public radio. Late in the evening of May 1 I was listening more closely than usual, and this Christ-haunted gem pulled at my heart...

Music
by Anne Porter

When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother's pianoAs she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I've never understood
Why this is so

But there's an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow

For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.

"Music" by Anne Porter from Living Things: Collected Poems.

Blogging again

2009-05-23T21:23:00.000-04:00

I used to blog - I kept a blog for over two years on another site. But after a lengthy absence from blogging, I just can't get the motivation to resume blogging there again. So, a new blog, new name, new focus (or lack thereof). Because life is different now. Instead of working full time, I'm a full-time mom. Instead of feeling somewhat alone in my world, I'm now surrounded by good friends and family. Instead of getting full nights sleep every night, I haven't slept more than five hours straight in five months.

Anyway, life is very full and very different now. Especially as a mommy - a blessing I thought was never meant to be mine and now is just so wonderful. And the time does go so fast, albeit in retrospect. When I'm desperately trying to get Brennan to sleep - running in his room every 3 minutes to stick the pacifier back in his mouth, or am dealing with another screaming reflux session when he's trying to nurse, then it seems that this is all there is and all there ever will be. But then I realize that he's been smiling and cooing for more than six weeks now. And that I can hardly remember what it was like to hold him when he was 5 lbs and barely in newborn clothes, much less at 3 lb 10 oz and swimming in preemie clothes. I tried to hand-write my thoughts and record of his days in a paper journal, but I just couldn't stick to it. It takes too much time - not something I have a lot of these days. So, I'll try the blogosphere again.

Here goes nothing.