In Which a Little Boy Becomes Big Brother

I wrote this over three months ago but after reading it through it is still something I want to post, so that I don't forget and so that the children always know my love for them.

I wanted to capture here the experience, as I've witnessed it, for our sweet lilttle Judah the Lion as he became big brother.

Early days postpartum, trying to make sure both boys got their snuggles

I can now say, after having experiencing it twice, the transition for the (former) baby when new baby comes is one of the most painful realities for me. It struck me to the heart when Judah was born, and struck me just as hard with Ezekiel's birth.

One random day after Ezekiel was born that Judah wanted to wear his suit, just because

This super sweet-natured little boy broke his arm in the early summer, he is just so darling!

I remember being 3 or 4 days postpartum and sitting on Judah's bed over his sleeping frame. He had been begging and crying for me to cuddle him to sleep, but I was nursing the baby. By the time I finally got there he was asleep. I could not stop it as the hot wet tears poured down my face and onto his pj clad little body. I wanted to lay there with him forever, holding him close, so that he would wake up with me there and know I had not replaced him. It was incredibly painful.

Yet as painful as he found the transition, and as many times as he looked at me with his big beautiful eyes and said "It's HARD being a big brother, I'm only 3 and a half," he so adores Ezekiel. The moment he met him he exclaimed with delight, "Oh Tiny, oh Tiny your so cute, Oh Tiny I love you!"

He has called him Tiny ever since.

He loves to just play around where I am as I nurse or snuggle Ezekiel, but he always makes a little pit stop for a kiss on the head or a head rub. Admittedly, he has said odd things like, "Oh Tiny I love you so much I could squish your head!" But I understand the sentiment of wanting to absolutely crush someone with the weight of my love. I can empathize.

Beautifully, Judah and Liliana have grown even closer in friendship! It makes my heart soar to hear them playing and laughing together. They are two goof-balls and can make me crazy with the immensity of their creative mess, but they so adore each other. 

Judah has also become a bit of a clown, he loves to make us laugh and has figured out funny moves and faces that always have us chuckling. He has grown in tenacity and independence, and very quickly adapted to getting himself dressed and cleaning up after himself.

Now, 10 weeks out I can very peacefully say that I was not wrong in my conviction that another baby would be a gift to our family. Admittedly, that night after I sat crying over sleeping Judah, I walked out to Joe and told him I wasn't sure I could do this again, it was too hard seeing the other children suffer as they adapted. However do know that it makes no sense, nor is it even fair, to try and protect a child from life's natural sufferings.....those sufferings in which they become more generous and less self centered. I suppose it is a good lesson to learn early that life is not always about feeling good and that sometimes love is a choice even when it doesn't feel good.

xoxo

When Joy Evaporated

The memories are fragmented and disjointed, but certain nights - like tonight - they wash over me and I feel filled with grief. I am remembering that time when the joy evaporated.

I remember the joy. The immense overwhelming joy and relief of meeting our son and holding him in that warm water. "Hi baby hi baby I'm your mama I love you I love you." Of being tucked into our bed and snuggling our baby. Of laying awake most of the night in post-birth bliss missing my princess and waiting for when she'd meet her brother in the morning.

I remember snapping. The day that daddy was already back at work and we were alone. Baby brother's tummy hurt and sister was only 2 years and 4 months but I was annoyed, so annoyed that she wanted, needed, to be held and snuggled. No, I was annoyed because I wanted to snuggle her too and this baby wouldn't stop crying. I was filled with rage, all of a sudden, at this sweet 2 year old crying who wouldn't stop. I was filled with rage towards her. I was shocked at the monster of rage I felt.

I remember telling the midwives. "I'm very very tired." They told me they are supposed to ask me about feelings of depression. "No, I'm just tired," I said. I knew better.

I remember crying to my mom. Something felt wrong. But I didn't cry to her or anyone else again. I don't ask for help. There were meals being dropped at the door step and I already felt guilty. Apologizing to the midwives for our messy house, guilty for not writing thank you notes to friends, guilty for how I was mothering, when I could barely drag myself through the day.

I remember arriving to Maui. Baby was 6 weeks old and still had a sore tummy. I was up with him almost all night giving him gripe water and delirious after a long flight and no sleep. Big sister woke up with her daddy and I had already finished a pot of coffee (no wonder baby boy was so agitated!). "Good morning princess, we are at the beach look, look at the beautiful ocean, look at the palm trees, mommy loves you so much are you excited?" I said to her frantically, wanting to be a happy mommy for her, the tears rolling down my cheeks as my desire and my emotions in that moment clashed. I just wanted to take her to the waves and put her little feet in, but baby brother was so sad and I was so tired.

I remember introducing Judah to Nonna and Papa on that trip. I felt like I couldn't bring myself to leave the condo to bring him to them. How can I face the world? how can I smile and pretend it is ok? But I did, I did.

I was so confused. I loved...I LOVED....being a mama. But, somehow the joy had evaporated. I would see my friends pregnant with their second babies and want to yell at them, "don't have your baby, it's a cruel joke, everything changes, nothing is happy anymore." I would timidly express that I was finding it hard and people would say, "oh just wait until the third baby." I loved my babies fiercely and yet most days were hard days.

I remember...the memories last well past Judah's first birthday. They become less tragic in my memory but still feel heavy.

These memories came washing over me as I stood in the shower tonight because just recently I wondered if our 4th (one miscarried in heaven!) baby was on the way. He or she is not, but oh we dream about the next little love that will be ours, and oh the fear that grips me.

Finally when Judah was 16 months old, it was as though the fog lifted. Literally a physical weight came off of me and it felt easier to lift my head and smile. Laughter came spontaneously, the joy of mothering my children and being in this life returned. This life, this blessed blessed life. All along I knew it was blessed, I knew I was a lucky one, but I was stumbling through darkness trying to find something to hold onto that would bring those convictions back.

It sounds crazy to say because even with the deep dark sadness I LOVED my babies. Perhaps that is what made the sadness so deep and profound is that I could not understand it. It is hard not to let it haunt me. It is hard not to be very, very afraid that it will happen again.

And so, these are the moments in life when I cannot imagine living without our Faith. Without that act of surrender, of trust, of hope. It involves taking control of what we (my husband and I) can, and believing that grace will be sufficient to overcome any suffering we encounter.

"I have made you. I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you." Isaiah 46:4

I look at my beautiful blond boy, his darling older sister. They have no recollection of mommy's struggles. They know only that they are loved without question and without measure. Would I do it again, to have these beautiful babies in my arms every? Absolutely. Does this take away from the reality of the pain? No.

I share this because it is my story, and because maybe it will help someone who has similar struggles. Ask for help! You are not weak, you are not helpless, you are not alone, and there is much hope to be had. The joy will not evaporate for good, very soon it will rain down on you in more abundance than you remember ever having before.

May you be blessed with peace,

Choosing Love, Embracing Suffering, and Joy's Victories

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” - CS Lewis

A few weeks ago I was at the park with our children on a warm and glorious day. We played and played! I remember thinking, as we played, how happy I was and how in love I was with them, my blond darlings. We were going up and down the slides over and over, with Judah on my lap and Liliana holding my hand, and time was running away from us as we were lost in fun. At one point I laughed and in that moment I seemed to remember what laughing, really laughing from my soul, felt like.

Such a happy day!

I've been wondering for a while if I should share some of the sufferings I've experienced after Judah's birth. I've decided to because when I think about it, it seems as though it is unfair to share the good moments without sharing the hard ones. Perhaps it sets people up to have unrealistic expectations from their own lives. And so I share my simple story. The beautiful thing is that all of the little chapters that are making up the story of my life teach me over and over what love really is.

Judah's birth was absolutely beautiful. Peaceful, holy, happy, and surrounded by love. However, as any of you who have been reading for a while know, very quickly things started to feel hard. The inevitable baby blues a few weeks after baby stretched out, and I was so sad. Now, in context I didn't allow my self time to be in bed and recover like I should have, and on top of it we were dealing with some relatively intense financial and business realities. 

Perhaps it was mild postpartum depression, but really the only way to describe it was that in my very soul there seemed to be a fog of sadness that permeated my days and nights and was a lens through which everything was filtered. It wasn't terrible, by any means, but I felt confused that the intense joy I had being a mama and a wife seemed to just disappear over night. I looked at my children and loved them with every fibre of my being, but still I just coped. I was, in every sense, surviving and not thriving. I had an intense fear of becoming pregnant again, I didn't want to socialize,  I was distracted and distant from Joe, and every little thing made me feel anxious and worried.

Now, the beautiful thing about having two little lives and one big life that depend on you in a constant way is that there is no time to wallow. I look back at pictures and I remember how sad I felt but I don't look it! To learn to be present, to the best of my ability, and with a smile was a gift. Still, in retrospect now that I can compare how I feel with how I felt then, it seems as though it was an out of body experience. Today, here I am, in my body and present. What a difference!

What is the lesson in all of this? There are many and I think that I will process this experience for a long time....almost 16 months of sadness. It seems silly to say when I think of the deeply suffering world around us, and here I am in this beautiful life, with suffering that was very real. But so it was.

The first lesson for me, which I've mentioned before, is to have a big, soft, tender heart of mercy towards those I encounter daily. Who am I to judge why they behave the way they do, why they struggle when it seems they have no reason to, why they act angry or distant? Certainly I've been guilty in the past of a prideful naivety that assumed I had the answers and therefore things went right for me. Not so. I am humbled to say that I have no answers, and without Grace I am so very weak. May I walk through my days with eyes that see the beauty of a soul before anything else.

The second lesson is that really loving opens you up to really hurting. Of course, I knew this in my head but to live it moves such a truth down to my heart. I have seen so many stories lately of stillborn babies, unexpected passing of young husbands, cancer battles for mothers. It is so easy to be exposed to the suffering and think that it is senseless.....but upon following the stories beautiful legacies of love are seen to unfold. The truth is that when we choose to love, not the feel-good-love but the love that opts to remain when the feelings go, we choose to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and to experience pain. It may be small daily pains, it may be one tragic pain, it may be a small season of pain, or a long marathon of pain....but to choose to really love is to make your heart fibres so exposed that they will most likely be singed, burned, stretched, weathered, and worn. Yet we also know for certain that ultimately joy is victorious and there are always moments of respite for a heart that has been weathered in the storms of Love's sufferings.

It feels risky to love so deeply that you will certainly be hurt. Yet, while the days are long the years are oh so short and then, before we know it, sometimes sooner than we ever guessed, it is over. 

My prayers for you, that you may always opt for love and that even in your sufferings joy may always triumph.

xoxo

These Are the Days!

Our sweet, kissable, squeezable little man turned 6 months last week and I've been itching to write a blog commemorating it ever since. Honestly, I shake my head and wonder where the time has gone since he entered this world on that peaceful winter night....all 6 pounds 10 ounces of wonderful wrinkly newborn.

One hour old

At the same time, I know exactly where the days have gone! They go something like this....feed, bounce, play, clean a little, feed, clean myself a little, feed again, bounce, play, cook with baby strapped to chest (and by then it's only 10:30 am!)...and so the day goes on. Oh, and that has been, of course, running a simultaneous course to a similar but more advanced daytime routine with sweet little man's big sister! This whole hands-on motherhood reality is intense! I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit that I've found many of these first days intensely difficult, in a majority of them I've felt so very down and unsure of my ability to "do this". And yet, these are the days! The moments of joy are SO FULL that my heart might explode....and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

One month old

Two months old

Our Judah is an absolute JOY. After those first few fussy months (and who could blame the poor little guy with his sore tummy and seeming intolerance to caffeine!), he has emerged as the happiest baby on the block. He has become pure BOY....and loves bouncing, banging, throwing, swinging, hanging upside down, EATING, and being being bare naked. He is a little guy who quite literally smiles to everyone who says hello. 

3 months

4 months

Snug as a bug with Mama at 4 months

Judah sleeps well, although of course he likes to nurse very frequently throughout the night but I've come to expect that from my babies and I just don't let it bother me. With teeth coming in or developmental bursts I like being what soothes them. He is a cuddly, tactile little guy who much prefers to be held over anything else...and there are lots of hands eager to snuggle him. 

While it is apparent that his mama is his first love (and I swoon!), he absolutely ADORES his daddy and Liliana. He could watch Liliana play all day and he laughs watching her. He thinks she is so entertaining. My heart is warmed by already observing the gift that siblings are to each other, and the gift that Joe and I have been able to give them IN each other. When Joe walks through the door from work Judah only has eyes for him, as though he is saying hold me hold me hold me! It is so sweet.  I've had the opportunity to go out for a few hours at a time and leave both babies with Joe. Judah takes a bottle of breastmilk so well from his daddy and settles easily. That is a total blessing!

5 months

6 months

6 months old and his first taste of rice cereal

At risk of babbling on and on about the joys of this sweet little boy, I will finish with the important stats. At 6 months old Judah David is 17 pounds flat and 26.5 inches. He is 40th percentile for weight and 88th for height! He can role over both ways, and sit quite well for a short time. His legs are gloriously chunky and he absolutely LOVES using them in his jolly jumper. No teeth yet!

How I love you, darling son. Your presence in our family has been such a gift, even in the challenging days I've been acutely aware that our lives are so much more full of joy because you are in it. I only pray that we can continue to love you and nourish your heart, mind, body and soul in a way that allows you to thrive. Your sweet smile and exuberant affection bring light to all those around you and make my mama's heart oh so full that it overflows. I am humbled to be entrusted with such a gift as your beautiful life. Thank you!

Monday Musings: On Realizing My Own Littleness

When Liliana was born, two and a half years ago, motherhood and I effortlessly became one another. There was nothing that seemed too hard (except for one night of screaming after our trip home from Oz!) and I didn't understand how anyone could possibly not think this being a mama thing was the best and most joyfilled thing to ever happen to them.

When I became pregnant with Judah, I naively assumed that when he was born he would effortlessly merge into our little family, that I would wear him all the time (as I did Liliana), and that we would continue on our merry way.

And then this darling little bundle of baby boy entered our lives. 

Seriously, so squishy and adorable!!

The first few days postpartum were bliss....and then his tummy started hurting and his hands formed into fists and his legs became stiff, he started crying, and crying, and crying, and still cries. I cried and cried, Liliana cried because I was crying and because she was confused and needed her mama, and I morphed into this mother that I could have never imagined myself being. I yelled at Liliana. I resented Judah, my home fell apart, I could really care less about my personal appearance, I felt afraid to leave the house. The suffering felt so intense and so very real, I couldn't (and sometimes still can't) see how life will ever seem as easy as it was.

Moreover, my whole self missed my sweet Liliana with everything in me. I ached to hold her. When she woke at night sad and I was preoccupied with Judah I mourned. When she needed me during the day and I was holding her fussy brother I mourned. I realized that although my heart had grown enough to encompass the love for these two babies of mine, my arms had not grown and I had not gained any extra hands. I missed having Judah safe in my belly and Liliana safe in my arms.  I miss it still.

I miss Joe. He comes home from work and is immediately consumed with attending to Liliana who has fended for herself most of the day. I gratefully accept the gift of just one little one to care for and try to stuff the laundry in with one hand or awkwardly pull together some semblance of dinner! Yet we fall into bed at the end of each day and as I gratefully snuggle up to his warm presence I miss his friendship desperately.

And so we come to the point of this all, that I am learning a vital lesson in humility. To presume that I could do it all, on my own, was so ignorant. To be critical of those who may have adjusted with difficulty to motherhood was so prideful! I myself am little and one of the only things that makes a difficult day not so difficult is if I take a few minutes in the early hours of the morning to place every moment of joy and suffering at the feet of our Lord. I beg for His grace to love beyond my own natural capacity to love, and to fill these little hearts with exactly what they need to thrive.

Truly, to finish this blog on a happy note,we have had so much fun learning to just be at home and keep life simple. I invested in a 4.99 pack of face paints. Let me tell you, we have had a blast! Each day Liliana can be a different character and while I hold Judah we can make all sorts of make believe.

Sweet puppy dog! 

Never underestimate the joy to be had
in a sink bath!!

Princess Liliana Joy!!

There is so much joy in the simple being of each day. There is so much peace in knowing that I have done my best to love these little ones and that they are both growing and happy. I am truly being tried and tested in these early days with our beloved Son. Parenthood is the most amazing thing, and the deepest suffering I've ever known. It has nothing to do with the stench of a diaper, the sleeplessness, or the hard work. It has everything to do with the reality of not enough arms to match the love in one's heart, of seeing a child struggle and not knowing how to meet their needs, of wanting to balance affection towards one's children and one's spouse, of yearning for intellectual stimulation but knowing that your entire day must be oriented towards nourishing and loving the little minds you've been blessed with!

Pray for me and for Judah's tummy, Liliana's peace, and Joe's patience. We pray for all of you!!

xoxo