In One Month

This weekend, my friend Liesl visited from the D.C. area. It was a good vegging weekend combined with a lot of grading and school prep, and a good friend who enjoys GHB time almost as much as me.

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, another day of school, and one month till my due date. Yep, ONE MONTH. I checked in at the hospital and the OB nurse who processed my papers remembered Will as "the skinny resident who brought his own media" ... yes! That's my guy.

I asked for an epidural, skin-to-skin with my Bebe and to preferably not have a room near the nurses' station, since I am a light sleeper and the 36 hours I was in the hospital with Grace was way too much awake time.

Whaaaaaat? Sleeep?! {Days old Grace gets it.}

The one month before Grace was born, I wrote this {previously unpublished} post:

Sometimes, I wonder how I get to each new day. This weekend, I went to bed earlier than usual and I took my Tylenol PM as a pre-caution against being too awake while being overly-tired. 

An hour went by. 

Another hour went by. 

Will fell asleep 5 minutes after we said night prayers, and stayed asleep till around 6:30 a.m. I tried to keep sleeping; at least I was comfortable, wedged between three pillows. But I also knew I couldn’t stay in bed long before my stomach would start rumbling, hurting, demanding food. Or I would have to use the bathroom, again. 

This past week was a breakthrough for me. I talked to Will about my child birth fears. My rational, knowledgeable doctor-husband talked me through worst-case-scenarios (that’s where my mind always goes). I’m a big proponent of modern medicine, but I’ve also never been in the hospital myself. I’ve been there to volunteer, I’ve been there to see my mom after her baby deliveries, I’ve been there to see my mom at work, I’ve been there to visit people, and I’ve been there (well, the medical office building) for check-ups. 

I’m quite healthy. My fertility is healthy too. Will and I had our first meeting with our new Marquette teacher this past week. We’re switching from Creighton to Marquette for post-partum, and I’m excited for this new venture in fertility awareness. I’m lucky. I have no reasons to be nervous. 

My Bambino Baldwin is active to the point that I am convinced he/she is going to join the circus post-delivery. I’m about to start the job of a lifetime; a job I can never quit, a job I’ll find purpose in every day. Even if that purpose is making sure I drink at least one cup of coffee so I can pursue my passions, or whatever laundry needs folding, or just enjoying my baby.

It's very different knowing that Bebe Deux is a girl. It's very different bringing another baby into our family with both parents working, another baby already present to continue care for, and a non-warm climate. It's been a different pregnancy since I'm technically high risk. I did not attend birth class this time around, and my support person is just Will (no doula - even though I really loved having one!).

I have a lot of work to get done for school, and I'm trying to remain semi-optimistic about residency life even though this rotation is the worst, and Will's going to be on a similar one in March, a.k.a. 1-2 weeks after Bebe Deux comes out. (I WILL SURVIVE!)

Survival mode, however, is really where I see my strength come through. I do what has to be done. I ignore what can be ignored. I eat, love and pray to God that I get through till Will gets home, and then I allow myself to collapse. I sat on the bed a few days ago, overwhelmed by my day and Grace's clinging and thought, How will I manage with two?!

Waking up is hard sometimes...

I know I'll manage. I'll manage because I have to: because I'll have two little girls who depend on me, and a husband who needs me. I'll lean back on him (because I need him too), and kiss my little girls for smiles and good days and tears and bad days.

Snuggles make the world go 'round.

I'm not thinking worst-case scenarios this day. I'm not thinking messy, even though life is messy. I'm thinking joy. I'm thinking anticipation of meeting someone who is going to change my life. Change my life the way Will changes my life, the way Grace changes my life, the way Christ changes my life. The radical love of motherhood and calling and purpose and being and doing.

Grace "drinking coffee" and then smacking her lips after...

One month.