J is for Jellyfish (and Junior)

Hi Junior,

Guess what? Auntie Kim, Uncle Gugs, and Allison sent you a very special gift last weekend:  an ergo so that we can carry you everywhere, parenting CDs so that we can get some advice on raising you up in the Lord, and this -- your most beautiful possession.  Auntie Kim must really love you -- and us.  The amount of time and effort it took to create this absolute work of art is amazing (remember that she sewed every single eyeball, mane, hoof, and squiggle!).

Our doctors seem to think that, given your position, you will arrive this weekend.  I started getting some contractions today -- but I guess they were false contractions?  Try not to be a Halloween baby and stay inside until November.  Halloween is a creepy holiday.  And it would be nice for you and your dad to share a birthday month!  

We're waiting patiently for you, although at night, I become less patient because sleep is really hard and really painful these days.  It's not your fault, don't worry.  And the days are numbered!  Woohoo!  We are so thankful to have gotten to this day with you -- and with your three other cousins who are due right about now too (although they are all second children - you're the only firstborn in this week's wave).  

See you soon, Junior. 

Love,

Mommy (and Daddy)

P.S.  I was watching Daddy play with your cousin Aidan today at the basketball court.  He is such a good teacher, and he is going to be such a good dad.  You are lucky, lucky, lucky.

39 weeks

Hi Junior,

Here we are at 39 weeks and 1 day.  You're moving around a lot these days, sometimes sticking your little feet in my ribs (yes, that's me pushing your foot back and your dad flicking you in return) and last night I swear I felt your little fist against my hand.  Pretty cool.  I guess it will be even cooler when we actually see your little fists in person!

I worked from home today and did your first load of laundry.  You inherited four huge garbage bags full of clothes from your older sisters at church, and we've sorted them all from newborn to 24 months.  These newborn clothes are SO. SMALL.  I keep looking at them and thinking -- how does a person fit into this? Surely she can't be that small.  Guess we'll find out soon enough.

We're just waiting for you to arrive... our hospital bags are packed, your daddy is still working on reading his "Heading Home With Your Newborn" book, and I find myself trolling the internet for advice on breastfeeding and changing diapers.  Your aunties at church have also been giving us a lot of helpful advice, which has been helpful.  But I cannot help but think that we've just got to go through it with you to really know how everything works.  I'm really nervous about that, because it's really hard to prepare for--and I don't like being unprepared (you will eventually learn that at some point in your life).  But I guess I am also learning to chill out a bit and kind of go with the flow, too.  You can't prepare for everything.

In other news, your mom is making waves at work by taking a deposition this Thursday, next Monday (your due date) and next Tuesday -- assuming you remain in utero and she remains able to handle this stuff.  Most people's eyes get really wide and they start to look very concerned when they hear about this.  I guess, in a way, I also was not expecting work to be this intense, this close to your arrival.  But I want maternity leave to be with you as long as possible, so... I'll keep going. It's not so bad.  Some days are harder than others, but overall -- months 7 and 8 were the absolute worst, and nothing could be harder than those were, even with the perpetual aches and pains that come with late third-trimester pregnancy.

In still other news, I hope I didn't confuse you too much with what I've been feeding you.  Your mom loves carbs.  Loves them.  And was merrily feeding you lots of them until week 36 or so, when your doctor said she should probably stop eating carbs.  "Chicken, fish, and vegetables," she said.  :-p  Boooo.  So that explains why over the last 3-4 weeks, you've been consuming lots of cheese, chicken, kale salad, greens, lentils, honeycrisp apples (lucky you!), greek yogurt, and blueberries.  Hope you're not too confused.  But truth be told, this is probably good for you.  (And it's been good for me, as it has kept my weight gain steady at 28-30 pounds.)  

Anyway, anytime you want to come out, just start doing your thing.  We're as ready as we'll ever be, and 39 weeks in -- I'm finally ready to meet you.  Your dad's been ready for a while.  And you have lots of aunties and uncles and cousins at church and in your parents' community who are really excited to meet you and have been praying for you for many months now.  You are already blessed -- try not to forget it.

Love,

Mommy

P.S. I've been doing a good job of not co-opting your stuffed animals.  Your dad didn't think I could -- but I've been really good!

Pecans and Shards of Glass

They say that marriage is (supposed to be) a microcosm of the relationship the Church shares with Christ.  In general, I feel that that is true.  Today, I felt it was particularly true.

Besides the fact that general life functions (sleeping, walking, getting dressed, breathing, eating, going to the bathroom) are more difficult now in the late third trimester, I am also very, very clumsy.  I find it funny that a hormone called relaxin is partially responsible for all my bumps, bruises, and butterfingers.  But this morning, I was not laughing about the fact that I shattered a mason jar of pecans while trying to screw the lid back on.  I still have no idea how that happened.

But one second, I was shaking toasted pecans onto my greek yogurt and frozen blueberries (my new breakfast owing to the low-carb diet I've been placed on), and the next, I had glass shards and pecans strewn across our counter, the stove, and the kitchen floor.  Mr. Squire spotted some glass in my yogurt, so I had to discard it.  And then I started to clean up, but Mr. Squire shooed me out of the kitchen and cleaned up everything himself.  Partly because he didn't want me to get hurt... partly because it's just who he is.  He cleans up my messes.  (See, e.g., the time I spilled an entire smoothie in the refrigerator in our Brooklyn apartment.)  Without complaint, and without reprisal.

I felt bad.  I always feel bad when he cleans up my messes.  I especially feel bad when I create messes involving glass that could injure him in the cleanup process.  

At the same time, I felt blessed.  I always feel grace most strongly when he does things like this--when instead of expressing frustration at my clumsiness and the interruption to his own breakfast routine, he just picks up the pieces and cleans everything up to where you can't even tell anything happened in the first place.

As he was cleaning up my mess, I skulked over to my exercise ball with a KIND bar and a cup of milk to read my Bible passage for the day.  John 19.  About Christ's crucifixion.  How appropriate.  On the cross, Jesus cleaned up endless spilled pecans and glass shards in the sins of my life.  He is still cleaning them up... without complaint, and without reprisal -- just love.  I feel bad, because I've created so many messes.  And will create a bunch more in my lifetime.  And He will be cleaning all of them up, to where you can't even tell anything happened in the first place.  I get to live in a state of forgiveness because He did that.  

At the same time, I feel blessed.  Grace is a blessing.  The receipt of gifts that are unmerited put a special ring of love around your heart and soul...makes you want to share with others.

Fwd: Dear Junior

Hi there,

You're due to arrive in just over two weeks now.  We made it this far together, by a lot of grace and provision from God and lots of hand-holding from your dad and our church community.  These days, you are super-active, even trading your usual gentle gymnastics for a couple boxing punches.  Thanks for letting me know that you're alive and probably healthy.

Over the last 37 weeks, we've been through a lot together.  Looking back, it's been quite a journey.  You started with us in Brooklyn and moved to Jersey (but will probably be born in Manhattan).  You traveled to California and were around (though we didn't know it) when we visited your great-grandfather and your grandpa's entire side of the family back in March.  Your great-grandfather passed away just a couple months ago, so you were very lucky.  You were discovered jointly by your mom and one of your mom's dearest friends on that same trip, so you've *kind of* met Auntie C.  Well, very kind of.  

You traveled to Richmond a couple times and kept Mommy company as she took and defended her first depositions and spent the first eight months of your life preparing for a trial.  You survived the bedbug saga, fortunately shielded by your cozy little (not-so-little!) placenta.  You were along for the ride as your parents set up their new home (again) and got things ready for your arrival.  And you ended up getting a baby shower after all.  Lucky you--so, so SO many aunties and uncles and cousins ready to meet and love you.  All kids should have it so good.  And now you are gearing up to make your appearance. 

I freely admit that I am not really ready to be a parent.  I'm not sure I ever will be.  But God's been helping me and I know He will continue to help us all as we all get to know each other and become a family.

Here are some thoughts I have as I consider your arrival (in no particular order):

• If there's only one thing I can pass on to you, I want it to be the central truth of life -- the truth about who brought you here, who created you, who loves you most of all, who defines love in the first place, who ought to be your only hope and reason in this life.  I want to teach and show you this truth in a manner in which you will understand.  And I hope and pray (and have been praying) that you will come to acknowledge, accept, and adopt this truth, and live by it throughout your days, however few or many they may be.

• I hope you dream.  And I hope you dream the dreams that God gives you -- not dreams I have for you.  I don't really dream for you right now, and I hope to keep it that way.  Your dreams should be God-given, not parent-given.  And your dad and I have been praying that we will give you freedom and encourage you to become exactly who your Heavenly Father wants you to be.

• Your dad is really incredible.  He is super-fun, super-funny, teachable, humble, loyal, servant-hearted, quick to apologize, highly intelligent, witty, thoughtful, oddly sentimental, laid-back (for most things) but principled (in the most important things), wise, and overwhelmingly patient--especially with me (which is not easy to do).  Like...you really won the lottery (as did I).  I hope you see it that way.  And I hope you and he have many, many years together, and that as you grow older, you come to appreciate all the wonderful things about him. 

• We're not going to be perfect parents.  That frightens me, because I kind of like to do things as close to perfectly as possible.  I will try my best not to impose my perfectionism on you, and not to expect perfection from you -- especially as you grow up.  I hope you will find grace for us because we are definitely going to mess up from time to time...and not even know it.  I'm not looking forward to messing up, but I know it will happen.  I'm really sorry!

• The stuffed animal thing... I guess there's a small chance you may never know what I'm talking about.  But in all likelihood, you'll one day find out about your mother and her stuffies, and I'm not sure what you're going to think.  You probably won't be as merciful as your dad, and I wouldn't blame you.  But know that they were kind of like practice children for me (I know it sounds bizarre), and they helped me through a lot of things.  So if you can imagine a more neurotic, less-well-adjusted version of your mom -- that's who I would have been if it weren't for the stuffies.  So... in a way, I hope you will be grateful for them.

• I'm excited to meet you.  I have no sense of who you are going to grow up to be, but I am eager to find out, and I'm here to help you.  Your dad and I want to help love you into the person that God intended you to be.  We look forward to meeting you in a couple days (or weeks).  Welcome to our little family!