September 7, 2012 by Jolene

Ready or not

I am 36 weeks pregnant. One week from full-term. One-and-a-half weeks from the point at which Corin made his appearance. It’s getting REAL over here, folks.

Midwife visits are weekly now. The infant car seat is strapped into its spot in the Jeep. The lovely cradle loaned to us by a friend is assembled next to our bed, cushioned with soft linens. Newborn clothes are washed and waiting in the nursery closet. Newborn-size diapers (good grief, do they really start out that tiny?!) are stacked in the changing table. Some sweet friends have planned a shower for me next Saturday night, and I think after that I’ll be able to say we’re pretty much ready.

But are we?! I am so excited about meeting our baby girl, holding her close, breathing in that helpless newborn sweetness, watching her change almost hour-to-hour. But oh, man. I’m also remembering the very long, sleepless nights, the constant feedings, the jaundice worries, the copious amounts of spit-up, and then I’m imagining tackling all that while also managing a very busy toddler. The only thing that keeps me from truly panicking is remembering that our mothers will be here to help with this transition. I was discussing with a friend the other day that bringing home a new baby really seems to be about a four-person job.

I’m also hoping that with a little experience under our belts, we’ll be a bit calmer and more equipped to handle the ins and outs of newborn parenting. Surely it will come back to us…?

Corin proudly lining up his Matchbox cars (pants-less, because that seems to be how we roll since potty training began)

This week Corin and I have spent a lot of quality time together. I took him to the mall, and we rode the carousel and treated ourselves to cookies. We went to Babies R’ Us, and Corin picked out a stuffed toy to give Baby Sister when she arrives. We joined friends for a fun play date at an indoor playground, and we spent time on the floor (much more a feat for one of us than it used to be) assembling elaborate webs of train tracks. I feel the need to soak him in, to store up these last moments of just us. A part of me is mourning the end of all this one-on-one time.

But ultimately, this transition is such an incredible blessing for our family. We’ll soon have another little person to love, with that priceless front-row seat to unfolding human development. Corin will learn important life lessons about adapting, about caring for someone smaller and weaker than himself, about sharing attention and possessions.

As I get physically more uncomfortable, I try to stay focused on absorbing every moment of this final stretch of pregnancy. I remember what a miracle it is that we are here, that this is happening, that the squirming and thumping that rocks my belly is really, truly a baby, our daughter, the answer to so many heartfelt prayers. What a gift!

August 27, 2012 by Jolene

The big nursery reveal

I am pronouncing the nursery FINISHED, although there will still be a few minor additions (like a changing pad and cover) to come. Pictures in a moment, with a list of sources at the end.

First, I want to say a big thank you to my wonderfully talented friend Anca Sommerville, who took almost all of these photos. Second, I also owe many thanks to my husband, who put in long hours painting the closet and installing the new organization system, figuring out how best to hang my tree branch and patiently examining the Jeep to make sure I hadn’t destroyed the undercarriage while trying to pull over to acquire said branch.

And now, we’ll get right to it.

(Purple candle is from our wedding 10 years ago)

Closet:

Sources:

Bedding – custom from Etsy (seller: IslaCorinne)
Changing table – refinished dry sink, craigslist
Crib – repainted jenny lind, craigslist
Rocking chair – craigslist
Mobile – bell strands from World Market, embroidery hoop from Michael’s
Pillows – World Market (purple and yellow) and Joss and Main (flowers)
Book case – storage crates, World Market
Shadow boxes – Etsy (seller: barnwood4u)
Framed art and hangar, metal hanging flowers – Kirkland’s
Closet organization – Rubbermaid from Home Depot
Mirror – Amazon.com
Lanterns – Ikea (years ago!)
Remaining knick-knacks – local antiques mall
Tree branch – side of the road

August 19, 2012 by Jolene

Nesting

Truthfully, I don’t love that term. “Nesting” just sounds so…overly-domestic. But I can’t think of a better way to describe what’s been happening around our house the last week. I have been cleaning out cupboards and closets, donating or throwing away useless junk that’s been accumulating for eons, reorganizing every area of clutter I can find. I feel an urgent need to create as much order as possible before newborn chaos descends upon our household. It must be contagious, because Jon hung a new shelf in the pantry/laundry area to create more storage space, fixed a leaking shower faucet that had been driving us nuts for weeks, and has gotten right into the spirit of moving, reorganizing, and donating or throwing away remarkable amounts of stuff.

If Baby Girl were to follow Corin’s schedule, she would be here in four weeks. A bit shocking, no? Thank goodness we’ve been knocking out that to-do list at a rapid clip. I am THIS close to having the nursery finished and ready for sharing pictures. I hope to have that post ready for you in the next few days.

It probably sounds like all we do around here is get ready for Baby Girl, but that happens amidst the much bigger job of keeping up with our increasingly-active toddler. Corin has turned into quite the talker. We have a running commentary for pretty much everything that happens at our house. It’s pretty fun most of the time. His ability to make a mess has increased dramatically. Toys and household items appear in the strangest places. The other day, he came to inform me, “There is something in the potty.” My hopes of a new potty training break-through were dashed as I fished our dog Tennyson’s rope toy out of the toilet. I have learned to first check the laundry basket (Corin’s or, that failing, the baby’s) any time shoes or other essential items are missing. And oh, the places one finds Matchbox cars…

Corin’s creativity and imagination are developing rapidly, which brings plenty of new challenges. Last week, I heard him banging a toy on what I thought was the floor. Later, I found an alarming area of damage on the dining room wall that clearly indicated the actual location of the banging. When I asked him if he had caused this new mayhem, Corin’s immediate response was, “No, Tennyson did it.” I had to turn around so he couldn’t see me laughing. We then addressed the principles of the matter. A more experienced mother since advised, very wisely, that if you know your child did something, it’s better not to set him up to lie. Clearly, the instinct to blame someone else begins very early. Just wait until he figures out what a great scapegoat little sister makes.

August 10, 2012 by Jolene

File this under “stranger than fiction”

I think I might win the award for strangest pregnancy symptoms. At the very least, these are not ones any pregnant women I know have thought to mention.

1.) An obsession with brushing my teeth. Any kind of sudsy scrubbing currently brings an abnormally high level of satisfaction, but teeth brushing is one of the highlights of my day. (I should clarify that this was not the case during the first half of my pregnancy, when brushing my teeth was the moment most fraught with risk of puking.) I suppose my dentist would be pleased.

2.) Suddenly enjoying a few normally-offensive odors. I let Jon take over applying the oil-based primer for Baby Girl’s crib as soon as I realized how strong the fumes were, but strangely enough, I found the smell appealing. I’m pretty sure this has never been the case before. Same thing with the latex paint fumes after her room was freshly-painted. Don’t worry: We ventilated thoroughly and I steered clear. But sure enough, the few whiffs I got smelled good to me. WEIRD.

3.) Increasing numbness in my hands. I know circulation issues are common in pregnancy because of increased blood volume. I’ve had issues for months with my hands and arms going numb at night. But it does seem odd that now my thumbs and first fingers on both hands are permanently tingly and partially-numb. I don’t remember this from my last pregnancy.

So there you have it: I am either a pregnancy freak of nature, or these are symptoms people just don’t think to mention. If it’s the latter, feel free to consider this a Public Service Announcement.

August 8, 2012 by Jolene

Head and shoulders, knees and toes

It is inevitable that anyone meeting Corin for the first time will be struck by how much he resembles his daddy. There is no question: His looks come from Jon’s side of the family tree. There may be a little of me in there somewhere, but you’d have to search pretty hard to find it. I’m okay with that; I happen to think Corin’s daddy is pretty handsome.

Hearing comments about Jon’s “mini me” has gotten me thinking again recently about what Baby Girl will look like. We’ve gotten to see lots of pictures of our donor families’ kids, so I mostly imagine someone who looks a lot like their daughter. But of course, not all siblings look alike, and I do wonder if the prenatal environment has any impact at all. There are similarities between our two families, and I wonder if we might hear that familiar comment from unsuspecting parties: “Oh, she looks so much like you/your husband!” I also wonder: Will it ever be difficult to look at her and see a striking resemblance to a biological parent or sibling?

Ultimately, I don’t think it matters much to me who she looks like. She is a member of our family as surely as Corin is, and I so look forward to getting to know her. I may have said before that it is such an awesome part of parenting to watch your child’s unique personality and physical traits take shape before your eyes. I’m pretty certain that will be true regardless of where those traits originated. It may not be daddy’s chin, but it will be HER chin. Those feet won’t be my feet, but they will be the feet I have felt kicking all these months. Her eyes, her nose, her hair… They will all be traits of the daughter I love with all my being.

August 3, 2012 by Jolene

If pregnancy was an Olympic event, this would be the home stretch.

(Wait, did I just mix Olympic and baseball metaphors? Oh well.) We are now less than nine weeks from my due date, which seems like a very short time when I start ticking off the items on my before baby to-do list but a very long time when I put on a maternity shirt that no longer covers my belly or wake at 2 a.m. with searing heartburn.

We are so excited about meeting this baby. It looks like we have finally settled on a name, but I hesitate to broadcast it too broadly in the off chance we change our minds. We may be baby name over-thinkers. It does add to my confidence in our choice that Corin pronounces it beautifully.

The nursery is nearly finished. I am not too humble to say I think it’s looking awesome. Pictures to come once the finishing touches are done.

We got back Tuesday night from our much-anticipated beach vacation. Hilton Head Island was our honeymoon destination, and it was so nice to have several days there to relive the romance while Corin lived it up with Mimi and Grandpa. Life happened, and the “romance” included a scorching sunburn through layers of sunscreen for my red-headed husband and two jellyfish stings for me. But we still had a lovely time. We even got to meet up with dear friends on their way through the area. We didn’t do much picture-taking, and what we did get was late in the evening, but here’s a sampling of our anniversary/babymoon/husband’s birthday trip. (My vanity is preventing me from sharing the only picture of the two of us together, because it is terribly unflattering.)

I am very thankful for those few relaxing days together in a lovely place. Soon we’ll be immersed in a newborn haze, fumbling our way through the transition to parents of two. Maybe on a few of those sleepless nights, it will help to remember the sound of crashing waves and the feel of damp, salty winds.

July 23, 2012 by Jolene

Tremble

I stood on the front porch late the other night in the most spectacular lightning display I’ve ever seen. That’s saying something for a Florida girl who grew up scant miles from the lightning strike capital of the world. One thought reverberated with the thunder: “God is so big and I am so small.” Ever since, I’ve been humming a line from my favorite Christian artist: “Let me not forget to tremble.” The complete lyrics are worth sharing.

—

Have I come too casually?
Because it seems to me
There’s something I’ve neglected
How does one approach a Deity
with informality
And still protect the Sacred?

‘Cause you came and chose to wear the skin of all of us
And it’s easy to forget You left a throne

And the line gets blurry all the time
Between daily and Divine
And it’s hard to know the difference

Oh, let me not forget to tremble
Oh, let me not forget to tremble
Face down on the ground do I dare
To take the liberty to stare at you
Oh, let me not,
Oh, let me not forget to tremble

What a shame to think that I’d appear
Even slightly cavalier
In the matter of salvation
Do I claim this gift You freely gave
As if it were mine to take
With such little hesitation?

‘Cause you came and stood among the very least of us
And it’s easy to forget you left a throne

Oh, let me not forget to tremble
Oh, let me not forget to tremble
Face down on the ground do I dare
To take the liberty to stare at you
Oh, let me not
Oh, let me not forget to tremble

The cradle of the grave could not contain Your Divinity
Neither can I oversimplify this love

Oh, let me not forget to tremble

Face down on the ground do I dare
To take the liberty to stare at you
Oh, let me
Oh, let me not forget to tremble

–Tremble, Nichole Nordeman

July 15, 2012 by Jolene

A part of me

Have you seen this post on the long-term presence of fetal cells in the mother’s body? This, my friends, is wild and woolly stuff.

I read through some of the research linked from the article, and the more I read, the more incredible it seemed. There is real poetry here, as the author of the blog post points out. As an embryo adoption mom, it nearly brought me to tears.

This precious baby I carry is biologically unrelated to me, but as I write, her cells are crossing the placenta into my body, becoming a permanent part of my physiology, and perhaps even preparing to someday help me fight illness or injury. Already, we are linked in a bond utterly unique to mother and child.

I know the quiet joy I feel as her little fists pound and her feet jab, that connection that has nothing to do with genetics and everything to do with the role of nurturing a tiny life into existence. But I always suspected perhaps there was more happening in the neonatal processes. I wondered: How much do these nine months of intimate connection influence my baby? Beyond the emotional connection, does the physical bond of pregnancy make us a tangible part of each other? I love that at least in this one way, I can know the answer is a solid “Yes.”

July 5, 2012 by Jolene

Dog days of 27 weeks

For your entertainment, here’s an exchange I had with another mother after story time at the library this week.

—

Her: Looking pointedly at my belly, “So how much longer do you have?”

Me: “Longer than it looks like. I’m due October 4.”

Her: Eyes bulging, mouth hanging open, “Oh my. Do you have big babies?”

Me: “Well, Corin was born a little early and weighed 6 lb. 13 oz., so no, not really. I just get big.”

Her: Mumbling, eyes still bulging, “I mean, you look great. I’m just sure you’ll be uncomfortable.”

Me: Smiling as graciously as possible while steering Corin toward the door, “Yes, it will be a long three months.”

—

Really, I didn’t need this well-meaning mother to confirm that I have hit another growth spurt. Aside from surprising glances in the mirror, the increase in exhaustion and general discomfort has all but assured me: I am getting big. And the third trimester doesn’t even officially start until next week. Maybe I can at least hope it will coincide with a break in the unrelenting triple-digit temps gripping this section of the country.

27 weeks

But there’s plenty of good news. Baby girl is very active, we’ve made some progress on names, and I finished painting the crib this week. I will say this about hand-painting a jenny lind crib: I recommend a sprayer. (Disclaimer: I’ve never actually used one. But I have to assume it would be easier than the pain-staking process of hand coating 52 spindles in one coat of primer and two layers of paint. And it might prevent those couple of drips husband says I should leave but I know are going to eternally bug me.)

At last, something to show for all those hours in the garage!

June 29, 2012 by Jolene

Too Much Information

I’ve been thinking lately about the challenges of parenting in the Information Age. (You thought from the title you were getting a post on something juicy, didn’t you?!)

It seems to me we’re all on information overload. I realize this is a First World issue, a sign of privilege unknown in much of the world and even in many places here in the U.S. I am not ungrateful. I love the Internet; I clearly use it regularly. It’s my source for pretty much everything: recipes, tutorials, decorating ideas, world news, communication with long-distance friends, shopping, music… I did grow up in a time before the Internet and remember using library card files and researching school papers by digging through stacks of books, magazines and – gasp – even the occasional microfiche. Those are distant memories now, stories I will tell my children to reinforce their view that I grew up with Methuselah. Today, I often wonder, “How did people do this before the Internet?” I know that having a wealth of information at my fingertips, not to mention the entertainment options of Netflix streaming and online episodes of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, is a gift that makes my life easier in so many ways.

As a parent, though, I am learning that living in a world of so much information has its down side. It begins before the baby arrives and never really lets up. There are endless decisions to make, and they all seem incredibly important. Some of them really are. Issues of pregnancy and child birth, information and support for breast feeding, questions of newborn schedules and sleep issues… Now with a toddler, it’s potty training methods, approaches to discipline, dietary advice and warnings, activities I should be doing with my kid but haven’t found the time for yet. As near as my computer screen is an endless supply of information and opinions on every possible parenting topic.

There is a tremendous amount of pressure on parents to be informed, to have a handle on the research and to parent according to the latest recommendations on Absolutely Everything. Given the sheer volume of decisions a parent makes in any given day, that would be no small task even if the information was always straight-forward and the experts always agreed. But it isn’t, and they don’t.

In a lot of ways, having access to so much information gives us a great deal of control. I am thankful for this, and I believe it is important to be an informed parent (and beyond that, an informed member of society). But the truth is, I’m not certain I know how to successfully navigate all of this.

Confession: I sometimes make parenting decisions without extensive research. Sometimes, I follow my gut. Sometimes, I trust Corin’s pediatrician without digging through the first 3,000 Google links. Have I picked the right issues to care about? Have I trusted the right sources? Have I reached the right conclusions? It’s pretty hard to know for sure.

My parenting philosophies don’t fall neatly into any category. I’ve gone with a “do what works” approach, which involves an awful lot of trial and error. One of the biggest surprises for me in parenting is how often the right answer is unclear. (He just threw his eating utensils on the floor. Again. On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does this matter? Not really sure.) I try to cut other parents a lot of slack and hope I’m doing an okay job wading through all of this myself.

Ultimately, I’m glad I believe in a Higher Power to guide my decisions, in parenting as in life. This job is certainly bigger than me. I have a sense parents have always felt that way, in the Dark Ages or in the Information Age. Surely the fundamentals haven’t changed much. The rest… I suppose I’ll just keep praying and wading (or not) through the research.

A Dash of the Unexpected

a story unfolding