At the Moment

As a girl who has loved having a blog because it helps sorting out my head, the recent silence of my tapping fingers was surprising. I thought I would need to sort out my lessons and thoughts, but instead it has been a quiet period of reflection. For now I have a little perspective, and the thick summer air still holds the posts about all of the women who helped me overprepare my home, kitchen, closets, and suitcases before baby Giddy arrived two days past his due-date.

How just hours before his arrival we had a family home evening talking about when we lived with God before we came to earth, and how our new little brother was soon to make an astronaut-inspiring journey through space, time, and my birth canal. How we cradled a doll and reminded everyone how to hold a baby. And how I loved seeing the light go on in my five-year old's head as he asked about God, and how could he be his father, and his daddy's father? And how when I went to bed that night I thought "Sheesh, even my dang garage is cleaned out I've been nesting for so stinking long...and of course this kid is coming now because we had a spiritual family tune-up".

For now, those stories await a future harvest like my late plantings of garden corn. At the moment, it is enough that my baby is home, is safe, is healthy....and beautiful!

I think this biological clock thing is real. With my oldest on the precipice of puberty, my last "baby" grown up and not giving me kisses, I am finally starting to understand what all those grannies have been telling me for years as I frustratingly wrangle little mutts: "Enjoy it! They will be gone before you know it!"

With a big fat baby living amongst the tiny NICU crowd, I gasped in panic at the thought that my investment of love, calories, nausea, and fatigue would be gone all the while ripping out my heart with its departure. But instead, my baby lives! I love to hold him, to squeeze him, and proclaim: You're a little person!



I love him so much that I'm even over the fact that this is the most unflattering picture of my gut. Where in the heck is my waist? But guess what, I honestly don't care right now. My garden will get it off eventually, and that joy on my face is real cause my baby lived.

Good Night Planet.