The inspiration for these photos were the shadows their gorgeous eyelashes were casting.
A few bits of our ordinary day.
I woke and stood up to go to the bathroom when I felt some water leaking. Joy filled me. Finally, at 41 weeks and 4 days pregnant labor was imminent!
It was 6 am so I crept downstairs in the silence to read and pray.
Amongst the excitement the day brought, I also worried over the fact that my water had broken before I had any contractions. The same thing happened with Theo and I didn’t want to end up in the hospital with Pitocin and an epidural.
With a homebirth we were unlikely to have to abide by the same ridiculous standards that hospitals do, but I still had a lot of “what if’s” running through my head. “What if my contractions don’t start?” “What if I go too long before giving birth and get an infection?” “What if we end up at the hospital anyways?”
I woke Brad and we spent some time together downstairs.
The boys soon joined us with excitement. We ate breakfast together and enjoyed their presence, knowing our family would be changing before long. I had mild contractions throughout the morning and before lunch we sent the boys off to Papaw’s house. I tidied our rooms and we went for a walk down the hill to get things moving.
Slowly but surely my contractions started to pick up. It felt slow and frustrating, but we spent a good portion of the afternoon resting in between pains.
After checking in, Patty decided it was time to come and arrived in the early evening.
Almost immediately my contractions stopped. Throughout the night they picked up and then slowed down again. Finally, in the wee morning hours I felt they were strong enough to get into the birth pool. The water was warm and wonderful and Brad read to me from a Henri Nouwen book. It was beautiful and relaxing and exactly what I wanted…except that I had only one or two contractions while I was in there. Out I went back to the bed.
Dawn broke on Wednesday morning and my anxiety was at a high. How could I still not have a baby in my hands after 24 hours of labor? Friends and family were concerned by our lack of baby. “Go to the hospital”, some warned. (Not helpful advice, by the way).
The progression of the morning is fuzzy to me. I was so tired and so sad that this birth wasn’t going like I thought it would (does it ever?).
After a while Patty checked me and tried to maneuver the baby so she would be in a better position to stimulate contractions. She had me push even though I felt no urge to do so nor had I thrown up in transition yet. It was tiring but at least I was doing something. She covered me in oils and had me swallow some herbs to increase contractions. Her presence was calming and peaceful and not once did she worry or make me feel like this wasn’t going to work out okay in the end. I am so thankful for her help.
Soon it all changed. Unbearable pain set in and I vomited. As much as I hate both pain and vomiting, praise Jesus I knew the end was in sight!
I was a mess by now and too tired to try and control my pain reaction so I yelled and screamed and the whole bit. I was hot so the windows were open with a beautiful spring breeze rolling in. I hoped the neighbors weren’t outside to hear me.
On hands and knees 31 hours after my water broke, I finally birthed our first baby girl. Weary with exhaustion and filled with elation over our meeting, I collapsed on our bed.
Winifred Marie weighed in at a tiny 6 pounds and 2 ounces, our smallest and most overdue baby. She was born after a year of change, bringing light into the pain and difficulty that life has brought our way. Praise Jesus for another beautiful gift.
Our dining room is my favorite spot in our house. A place of convergence at all times of day to both create and eat. During the evening hours of spring and fall the room fills with glorious light. The sun creates pockets of highlights and shadows that easily take your breathe away.
Today contractors are removing one of my beloved windows to make a room for my grandmother to live in. My sacred space of light is about to darken.
This whole process of deciding and planning to move my grandmother in has been one of many ups and downs.
She can no longer live at home safely but she can no longer stand to live in her assisted living room. There are days she’s ready to bust herself out of there and I can’t really blame her. Who wants to be old? Not even a 90 year old woman.
But how am I going to care for an elderly woman along with my four small children? Only by the grace of God I’m certain.
How is she going to fare living alongside our loud and chaotic household? I’m not sure. This quote from G.K. Chesterton has really been helping my perspective on the whole thing:
“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered”
This is bound to shape up as quite the adventure, and I’m looking forward to experience not only for Brad and I, but also for our children. This is a life changing experience we get to embark on. What is it like to care for someone in their last stage of life? I imagine it is humbling and sad as well as joyous and insightful.
We are taking an inconvenient risk and our house and our lives are permanently changing. I pray that there are more moments of light than darkness, and that the joy of the Lord is present in this place.
I need to step back for awhile, maybe forever. Hopefully forever.
I feel like an addict. Can I socially use social media…or am I doomed to waste too much time and anxiety scrolling through feeds?
I don’t know. I’m concerned I will feel disconnected from society, but I hope that I in turn will feel connected to God.
I’m not going to set up many rules for myself because guilt will not help make this better. I may still be on social media for business purposes or just to check something.
I will be posting more here, photos and such that I would normally post on social media. I encourage you to subscribe on here if you would like to keep up with photos and such.
Every family in our shared life group put together family mission statements as homework this past week to share with each other.
This is something that Brad and I did a few years ago but we decided to start fresh. I thought it would be fun to share ours and to encourage other families and individuals to do the same. Making a mission statement is a fantastic way to consider the important values in our lives and refocus our time on what matters.
We started by making a list of what is important to us and Brad with his writing power but it together in a beautiful, almost poetic way.
We will seek and serve God and be witnesses of his grace and selflessly honor our community with our time, resources, and talents.
We will reduce our burden upon society and the Earth by sustaining ourselves, our neighbors and our environment.
We will live in the intentional present by embracing poverty, play, experience, and spontaneous generosity, and by resisting consumerism, security and competition, and we will not be entrapped by debt.
We will use our talents in service to the Lord as an act of worship.
If you have a mission statement please consider sharing!
Sometimes it feels as though my grandmother and I are about as opposite as can be.
The other day I was telling her I had to go to Athens to drop off my artwork for the Women of Appalachia show. Just a few days before I had picked the photos up from the Parkersburg Art Center.
She kind of laughed and said, “Is it worth it?”
I stammered for a minute and muttered something about knowing how much driving this entailed when I submitted my pieces. If I could go back in time I would boldly declare that YES, it is worth it. It’s worth it because my art is in a show and that is super cool.
My heart was hurt because I feel like she often doesn’t see the worth or the value in the type of life I’m leading. My children break things, I don’t value stuff the same way she does and my house is always, always a mess.
In reality I lack the courage to find my worth in Christ alone.
My word to focus on for 2016 is courage. I was inspired while listening to a sermon of my father in law’s one morning (grandpa music as the boys like to call it). He was defining courage not just as bravery but as living from the heart.
I can’t be the only person who looks back on situations and has the perfect thing they should have said or done, right? If I were living from a place of courage and not of fear how differently would I respond sometimes?
If I were living from my heart, value and worth would be found in my savior alone. I would not feel less than because I am not more.
I desire courage to break the paths of bad habits, courage to parent fully and lovingly, courage to boldly do what is right for myself or my family and courage to not make decisions out of fear.
I don’t know about you but I’m tired of living out of fear. I’m tired of it creeping into my soul, into my mind, always reminding me of the “what if’s”.
This year I will find courage to be me without excuses, a beautiful child of God.