My littlest love

My sweet boy,

You have already captured my heart with your movement inside me and the lousy black and white pictures we got of you from the doctor. But I feel like I already have to apologize for what you're coming into. It's nothing extreme-I mean, you won't have FASD because I don't drink and none of my exams indicate that there's any struggle you're having at all. (I work in foster care, that's how I think-can't help it). But I still feel the need to apologize, nonetheless. You see, I thought I could do it all. I thought I could work full time (which is really turning out to be lots of over time), take care of your brother, be a wonderful wife to your daddy, follow Christ, have healthy friend relationships, work out, eat healthy, get your room ready, have fun planning where things will go and which clothes to hang up first. I thought I would keep up with my prenatal yoga, pray for you daily, talk to you all the time, and just sit in awe that the life that grows inside me is you-beautiful, unique, and perfect. But I'm struggling with literally ALL of those things I listed. All of those things that I so badly desire are not turning out how I planned this time around. Work is a big cause of my stress, which literally affects my health, well being, mental health, happiness, time...I mean, everything. And ultimately, it affects you. I know you feel when I'm stressed, when I'm tired, when I cry, when I'm angry or upset. You know when everything happens, and you really can't get away. I'm pretty certain that even as I battle this lousy cold, you're going through the very same thing with me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be stress free, work out as much as I want, or spend time just playing music for you and striking up a conversation. But know that I'm doing the very best I can. It's just that things are pretty stressful right now. But there is one thing that is very important you know. And that is, I would give my life for you. I love you more than my own mind understands, and we haven't officially met yet. I'm not a perfect mom- your brother will I'm sure tell you that later on-but I love you with every fiber of my being. And I'm honored to be your mommy. So, I'll keep trying to spend more alone time with you, and you do your best to only eat the nutrient-dense things I feed you-kindly skip over the occasional junk food meal :) I love you sweetheart, and can't wait to meet you, face to precious little face. 

Always your mommy,

Me

Hormones, chai, and unending love

Some days you just can't move past the emotional stronghold hormones have on the body. At least, when you're pregnant. I don't really remember feeling like that with Denzel. To be honest, I didn't feel much of anything when I was pregnant with Denzel-nothing but joy. But this little one? Whole. New. World. Instead of crying at precious things like movies or the beauty in life, I want to rip my hair out, spank my kid (and I don't spank), and throw something at the wall. That's how I'm feeling these days. Ha, and what's funny, is after reading that last sentence I instantly welled up with tears thinking that I could feel that way about my son. But parenting is a real challenge. Once you get a glimmer of peace-tonight it was an impromptu drive around Long Beach and quick stop for a decaf dirty chai...mmmmm..., it's trashed by a kid who woke up from a dead sleep and is screaming in the back because he has to poop. If it's not that, it's crying about milk, a blanket, Kiri stepped on his foot, or even that he wants "daddy to do it, not you mommy." It's enough to drive anyone batty. It doesn't help that I have NO patience lately. And I realize it's me. I know it's this pregnancy that's wearing on me. I know. I know I ask my husband to do everything just because I'm tired, don't feel well, or just don't want to deal with it. And graciously he obliges. I know it's me. But I must not be alone. I mean, I have one toddler. Only one. Some people have handfuls of kids and not a single gray hair. So it's possible. But today I just feel like I'm not cut out for this. Who thought it was a good idea that I would be a parent anyway?

Well, I guess it was in the plan. And truthfully I can say, after a few tears have wet my shirt, and my dirty chai is gone, that I have never grown so much in any other role than I have in my "Mommy" role. I have never worked so hard at anything as I have in trying to be an amazing parent-and I'm a damn hard worker! Never researched more about attachment parenting, co-sleeping, healthy diet, having a deep relationship with your child, and loving unconditionally than I have in this stage of life. Never agonized more about being patient, never been more intentional about what I say, how I say it, and the actions that follow. I've never looked into little eyes and smiled more than I do now. I've never worked harder on being a better person, a better woman, a better mom. And part of me thinks, what do I have left to give to this new, sweet precious boy? How could I possibly give more? What will sustain me? Logically I know the answer is the Lord. But if I'm being honest, I'm not 100% buying into that-at least not at this very moment. I'm not ashamed of my doubt-God loves doubters too. I know because he's yet to leave me high and dry. I can throw anything at God, and I'm only met with love. I mean, how am I supposed to live up to that as a parent?! But that was really all part of the plan too. Unsurmountable love, love that cannot be denied, love of my Father--my Daddy. It's the thing that breaks me down every time. The thing that draws me in, brings me back, reroutes my GPS. God's love. Something I don't fully understand, and yet have experienced in a way words cannot describe.

So maybe parenting, for me, is not something to fully understand. Maybe it's intentionally created and designed to help form me for who I'm intended to be. Because maybe I wouldn't be as complete had I not gone through the experience. I'm not saying for all, but for me. Maybe God knew that this experience is what I needed to live life more fully--to the extent that I was intended to live it. Maybe this was the only way that relationship, love and intimacy would be understandable for my doubting mind. Maybe. And maybe it's okay to be honest about where I am at the present moment, because tears, a good chai, and reflection are all important. All a part of being a parent. To one, or two...or how ever many I'm supposed to love. And maybe that precious sleeping face, with both feet out of the covers, and a car he insists on sleeping with--smashed into his face--maybe that's the only image I need of love that can endure even the hardest of days. Maybe love is really all you need.