Aching for Life

We went to the hospital not knowing I was in labor on April 20, and left the building with the cutest little person (of course we think as such!)  on April 22 - the day we started dating 5 years ago.  And Zeke was born on Grandpa's birthday (April 21)... so many reasons to be sentimental about his birth. You get a one-day old for only one day.  So writes Beth Ann Fennelly to her young pregnant friend. And it's true... Zeke is already 5-days-old today... and each day has passed by like a dream - surreal, surprising, all-encompassing.  You try to look and look and look, wishing you could bottle up the sight and take it out later to savor it once more just a little while later. But even with cameras and camcorders and journals and scrapbooks, the moments continue to pass you by. So you keep looking. What a beautiful little face you have, my boy. Each day he seems to have his eyes open for longer, and his perfect little face gains a degree of roundness. His...

38 Weeks Yesterday we had a doctor's appointment, and found out that our boy's "engaged."  This means he's moved down in my pelvis, and he's getting ready to come out!  I felt this drop last week, and with it, came more frequent mini contractions. So now we are waiting and wondering. He could come tomorrow, he could come in two weeks. Though I am at 38 weeks and it's the right time for Baby to come, I've been asking him to stay in there a little longer, so we can enjoy this time of intense awareness - preparing for what is to come, and savoring the very different life we still have now, enjoying the moments of each day, whether it's a foot massage or a walk in the afternoon sun, basking in the silence of morning or having a quiet dinner at home, engaging in good conversation with friends and each other or getting up and slow dancing to music we've been reading/studying to. Such a precious sort of mindfulness, this waiting.  Brings to mi...

36 Weeks (Full term by tomorrow!) This is my second week of being a housewife but not yet a stay-at-home mom. It suits me surprisingly well to have the quiet to think and reflect. I find myself feeling it it's not so important to freeze a dozen meals and have the "nursery" ready (in fact, it's still more a study than anything), but to take this time to pray and to give thanks. Of course, I may kick myself in a couple of weeks for not having everything perfectly ready... yet right now ticking things off a to-do list doesn't seem right - it seems like reverting to my natural wanting-to-be-in-control ways, an issue that God has been working in my heart all through this pregnancy. Of course it's wise to be prepared, to be informed, but I cannot hope to overcome fears (and how many they are! From labor pain to a lifelong commitment to motherhood!) through being busy, buying stuff, and getting organized. I have to get to the heart of things, and God has been remi...

Ryan's been in Mozambique for the last week and a half. There were four days of online-correspondence-silence, and then I got an email from him, describing how he had been in the more rural areas, showering with a bucket and cup, sleeping in the tropical heat on mats on a concrete floor or under nets but still getting bitten. I savored that email, as much for the assurance it gave me that he was alive and well (though exhausted and covered in bug bites) as the wake-up call it was for me, pattering about our Stanford apartment trying to get baby things ready.  I had been spending a good few hours on Amazon looking for things like unbleached cloth diapers and foldable tubs for infants; and then with Ryan's email I was transported to a different world, where babies and adults alike live (and even thrive) without ever doing online research for purchases. I was reminded of the calling we had received in college for missions, and with it, the calling to live simply, to live clos...

27 weeks 28 weeks  At one point we started taking straight-on shots too. This pictures was inspired by Kyle Gong, who, upon seeing me wear this shirt, wondered if I was really just hiding a basketball under my tummy. 30 Weeks  My belly growth really started picking up speed in March. The one on the left is taken on Mar 9. I'm wearing Lara's dress! I must say, it looks VERY different on a not-pregnant girl :) The other one was taken on Mar 10, at our (first) baby shower. 32 Weeks  I love how the stripes bring out the giant bulge. 34 Weeks  This one was taken just yesterday! I had to take my own since I didn't want to miss out on documenting the bump while Ryan's in Mozambique.

  As a birthday gift, Ryan collected messages from older and wiser women in our lives who gave me advice on two months before, two days after, and two months after the baby's arrival. I've read the part on two months before, and the message that comes up again and again is: Enjoy this moment. So I'm thankful that I have (God willing) a month to rest, to reflect, to enjoy stillness before the baby's arrival. The messages say we should enjoy time with "just the two of us," and I hope to get to do that when Ryan's back from Mozambique. For now, I guess I'll aim to enjoy having baby inside me, still in some way a part of me, not yet his only little person. Just one more month of the curve of his body against the curve of my belly, his growing shape mimicking mine, my abdomen doing the job of a sling or carrier. Just one more month of unthinkingly but constantly resting my hand on the swell, cupping his little head or little back against my palm, his ...

   Week 30 I taught this poem for two years for my HKDSE Lit classes... but only now do I truly feel the anticipation, the affection, the mix of certainty and nervousness, and the startling realization of this new life being at once ours to steward and fully its own self. You're Clownlike, happiest on your hands, Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled, Gilled like a fish. A common-sense Thumbs-down on the dodo's mode. Wrapped up in yourself like a spool, Trawling your dark as owls do. Mute as a turnip from the Fourth Of July to All Fools' Day, O high-riser, my little loaf. Vague as fog and looked for like mail. Farther off than Australia. Bent-backed Atlas, our traveled prawn. Snug as a bud and at home Like a sprat in a pickle jug. A creel of eels, all ripples. Jumpy as a Mexican bean. Right, like a well-done sum. A clean slate, with your own face on.                  ...