At least it's a start.

Months ago, when we set the date to move I came up with a packing plan. I had a different part of the apartment for each weekend. The plan started with the dreaded sorting of items to see what would be taken and what would be donated and ended with the packing of all that was left into organized boxes for the movers to move. Two months later, and not one weekend has been spent doing anything related to the move. David has been working like a mad man, and I threw my hands up in the air not wanting to do the difficult job alone. Yesterday I gave in and went through my closet and drawers. My closet is down to a few pair of pants, 3 jackets, and dress, and two dress shirts. The drawers are next to empty. It feels great to have started even if it was just a little start. There is still much to be done, but I'm going to break it up into small pieces and do a little at a time. My next job is going through the kitchen and getting rid of all the things in there we don't need. Then, it's on to the big closet in the back of Erin's room that somehow turned into a storage room. Wish me luck!

This post card from PostSecret warmed my heart.

My friend and I had a conversation about giving last night. At a conference she recently attended she heard that our generation is one of people who want to make significant changes in the world, but doesn't want to work for those changes. I can't speak for the whole of a generation, but for me this isn't complete truth. I'm not afraid of the work involved in making change, I just have no idea where to start. We are bombarded daily with newscasts and commercials spanning everything from the starving children in Africa to abandoned animals that need our money to survive.
What's your take? Are we a generation of only lip service, one that feels helpless in light of such massive need, or something in between? Can we even classify a generation in this way?

Say hello to Hayden!

I've been sitting at the computer staring at the images of him in amazement. They sent us home with a disk that has sixteen five second clips of the ultrasound. He squirms and turns and rubs his eyes with his hand. I watch each one over and over again. Most of me can't believe that such an amazing thing is happening inside my body. Inside of ME, bones, muscle, and flesh are forming. Life is being gathered up out of my flesh. It's too much to comprehend, too much to take in. There is nothing for me to do but allow myself to feel how mysterious and magical this is.

Because I'm now obsessed with maternity photos...

1. Growth, 2. Proof007, 3. Untitled, 4. Rachel's Maternity Session1, 5. .67., 6. Untitled, 7. Grow, 8. texture, 9. maternity, 10. OMG SHE DID IT!, 11. Maternity Shoot, 12. maternity, 13. first maternity session14. Not available15. Not available16. Not available

MeMe From my Grandpa

My grandpa messaged me with this meme a little while ago and I'm just now getting around to posting it.

A 6 Word Meme
. Here's the rules:1. Write your own Six-Word Memoir
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you want.3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.4. Tag at least five more blogs with links.5. Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.


A million dreams; one small soul.

For an inspirational read, visit my grandpa's blog.

I tag Aola, Becky, Kristen, Kelli, & Erica.

We listened to the whir of the baby H's heart beat again yesterday. Who knew that small sound could be so comforting? As the doctor squirted on the gloppy goop Erin said "It's not really a baby in there. My mom swallowed a clock." We all had a good laugh. The doctor asked if that made me the alligator from Peter Pan. I've always preferred to think of myself as Wendy, but I'm sure Erin could share many of my "alligator" moments with anyone willing to listen.
I opted out of the AFP screening. My doctor seemed less than thrilled with my decision, but he was respectful of my choice none the less. He even offered support by saying that he didn't see any reason for me not to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy and baby.
After the doctor visit, I treated us to a few scoops at 31 flavors. Sometimes, it's the simple things that bring the most joy.

We received a phone call yesterday letting us know that David's uncle Rick was killed in a motorcycle accident. As has been the case with every loss we've encountered together, there is no rhyme or reason only the dull aching question of why. Please send some light to David's aunt Mary. This is the fourth of her six siblings to pass away. I can't imagine how difficult it must be for her to lose her only brother just a year after losing Pam.

I am basking in the 80 degree warmth of a perfect spring day. The smell of fresh cut grass tickles my nose, and the warm rays of sunshine dance on my winter white skin. All day I have searched for any excuse to be out of the office, and have found many. This is lake weather, and the cool calm waters of Del Val are calling to me. In reality, the water is probably too chilly for a swim, but that doesn't stop me from dreaming.

A few nights ago I had dinner at a lovely Thai restaurant with my friend, Nicky. Now I can't get enough beef and broccoli. I attempted to make my own last night. It came out well enough though the recipe was more on the sweet side and I like the savory version. The next time I make it, I will omit the sugar and add more garlic.

My waist may be growing, but the scale doesn't show it. I've lost another pound. I'm not sure if I should be worried or not. The doctor doesn't seem to be concerned. He says that as long as I'm eating healthy foods everything is okay.

After scouring the internet and baby name books we've finally chosen baby names. For a girl we picked Hannah Riley, (I used to watch a little girl in the nursery at church named Hannah and have loved the name ever since.) and for a boy, Hayden Tyler. Of course, there is always a chance these will change, but they are the first names we've agreed on as a family.

Lately, the pressure that Erin is putting on me to be the "perfect" mom is overwelming. I'm not sure how much of it has to do with the pregnancy and how much of it is just Erin being Erin, but she sure knows how to push the guilt buttons. If I miss a night of reading with her because she stays up until eleven and I fall asleep at nine, I hear about it the next morning. She has also become very pushy with the things she wants/needs. Her skateboard broke last week and I got to hear about it several times day until David and his dad were able to fix it. When we talk about the baby she seems very excited. I've tried not to make the baby the center of our world and we've been making sure to pay more attention to Erin. We've been taking her to the skatepark so she can practice, and David took her out for a father/daughter date last week. We walk a fine line between letting her know she is still our special girl and not letting her manipulate the situation so that she gets whatever she wants whenever she wants. I've been searching for a big sister book, but have only found them for small children. She's been the only one for so long, that I know this is going to be a difficult transition for her.

So far, this is my favorite entry from "The Spirit of Pregnancy".

Pregnancy Log
Julie Convisser


Harbor
In the beginning, neurons bloom like kelp.

49 Days
I sleep eleven hours, surface for bananas and saltines,
sleep again. We are vessel and cargo
tossed in a merciless passage of becoming.
I am seasick; I want nothing
but the pulse of this vast ocean,
a glimpse of seahorse spine.

105 Days
I have seen the soft mound of island,
not shore, but a place of resupply.
There are fingers and toes in my hold,
kidneys and ears. I slosh and sway,
ample with blood. The wind rises hard
in my lungs.

123 Days
At 1:00 and 4:00 I am awakened by an ache
I cannot name. Night's membrane
covers the stars. I navigate
without memory or compass.
What ballast weighs me, what current
do we ride?

142 Days
In ultrasonic brilliance a dolphin twists,
a cormorant shakes its wings.
Sealed inside my treasure chest:
matchstick ribs, a tiny, chambered heart.
I bear them through warm salt
to a strange continent.

156 Days
Every day now I feel the delicious turbulence
below. Flying fish: it beats
against gunwale and deck,
dives through my interior.
Hot sun, balmy wind: I have only
to keep an even keel.

173 Days
Moon pours lava over the sea.
I walk the night, unsteady in my joints.
A comet not seen for 4,000 years
arches in the northern sky.
Something as timeless, as immeasurable,
orbits in me.

196 Days
We bump and thrash forward,
list with the precious load.
Seams swell, ligaments stretch.
At dawn I taste the edge of thunder
and know we crossed
the meridian.

224 Days
Every pore chafes with salt.
We journey on and on,
through ancient waters. In my dreams
what I long for cries out
in the sweetest voice
and I take its glimmering head to my breast.

259 Days
The wind has died.
In the early spangle light
moths rise from sailcloth.
The cargo ripens as we rock.
sand and pine tease my nostrils.
Somewhere in a new land we are expected.

285 Days
We run aground.
Everything bucks and rumbles
under the strain. Waves rush over and over
washing me to my knees.
There is only the great heaving,
the excruciating letting go.

Exhausted from reading all of the medically informative pregnancy books, I searched for something different at the library yesterday and found this, The Spirit of Pregnancy. I've read several of the essays and poems and am in love with this book. The open, honest, and insightful views of so many women who have been on this journey is the exact thing I need right now. At the end of each entry is a little writing prompt. I haven't written anything yet, but it has made me pause and really think about all that is going on in my body and how my world is changing. More than anything it's made me connect to the idea that as much as pregnancy is about birthing a baby, it's also about birthing a mom.

It seems that overnight, my waist disappeared. I first noticed it the day before yesterday when Erin pointed out that my belly looked round. I looked down, and sure enough, it does! It seems so strange after all of this waiting for some physical sign other than puking to all of a sudden see an eclipse of a belly protruding where none used to be. I've always carried my weight in my lower abdomen which is why it's taken this long for anything to really show.