Friday, January 29, 2016

Dear Ida {month 2}

Dear Ida,

Even though I am at the beginning of my motherhood journey, there is no doubt that I have already learned first hand that years are simply a series of mere blinks.  So these months?  I dare not fool myself to think there are so many ahead of us before you turn one.  Here we are at month 2.

You are weighing in at 13 pounds and 5 ounces. 

You smile like crazy. 

You started laughing and truly cooing. 

Besides faces, you love looking at the black and white mountain photo I took in Colorado, as well as a yellow pillow case with little white flowers. 

You light up when you are sung to, sometimes trying desperately to sing back. 

I've never seen a baby try so hard to suck their thumb.  You just can't quite release your little clinched fist and if you do succeed, the result is often a stray finger to the eye or nostril.  But you keep at it my dear.  Good for you.

You also experienced your first cold.  Stuffy nose, gagging on mucus, coughing fits, and sitting up with you at night.  But you handled it all beautifully.

The thing is, all the new stuff you are doing, all the new rolls you are growing, all the new sounds you are making.  It isn't very newborn anymore.  Blink.  Just like that.  Always moving in the only direction time travels, and that is forward my dear.

We are finding our rhythm, and it is a sweet one.  One that keeps events and activities limited, but keeps in abundance home and family and rest.  One that fully requires all hands-on-deck and a lot of grace when we do leave the house.  But our days are good baby girl.

I am thankful for the deep peace and contentment that comes from the Lord.  I am thankful that, even in the tired and the adjusting, it allows me to realize what all I have right now and to celebrate it while I have it, not just when I look back.

We are still celebrating you Ida Ruth, and your perfect fit into our family.



Friday, January 8, 2016

Dear Ida {month 1}

Dear Ida,

I suppose I'm doing good to write your one month letter seeing as you've been here now for 6 weeks.  It's not that the last 6 weeks have been frenzied and chaotic, quite the opposite of that actually.  It's just that my arms have been full.  And when there is quiet and time to just sit, I only want to hold you and stare at you and eat up all your sugar and soak up all of your baby smirks and smiles.

Since your swift entrance on Thanksgiving night (something I will write more on later), life has been completely normal and routine, yet at the same time suspended in a bubble of slow-moving intoxicating bliss.  All at once, every 9 pounds and 6 ounces of you filled a spot in our family that we didn't realize needed filling.  And we can't get enough of you.

You have brought with you a peace and a reminder of all that is important and what truly holds value.

Your Papa, your sisters, myself...we are just so madly and completely in love and smitten with you my dear.  You are never without someone wanting to hold you.  Lucy tells me she could hold you forever.  Lulah traces your face with her finger as if she is touching the most rare and precious treasure.  Your days end in the arms of your Papa, some quiet alone time before he brings you to bed.  And me?  I can't stop holding you.  I just don't want to put you down.  When you are in my arms I am filled with warmth and gratitude beyond belief. 

Your first 6 weeks have been magic.  You kept our holidays simple and slow and our calendar cleared of almost all activities.  And it was a gift.  And a reminder that as your mother, I will fight for a Christmas free of the noise and clutter so that you and your sisters can see and feel and know the truth.

I think that what you have reminded me of the most is that motherhood is pretty much colored by my own attitude.  My attitude determines how I view a house full of an almost 5 year old, an almost 3 year old and a newborn.  It could be easy to just focus on how much I'm pulled in every direction, how much energy is needed to meet so many needs, to meet all of your needs, how it all effects me.  But my goodness, when I give thanks for being able to fill your belly with milk, thanks for getting to calm and soothe you just by holding you close, thanks for getting to spend my days as the witness to all of your firsts, to the growths and new moments your sisters experience as well, it is when I give thanks for all of that, that I receive so much more.  Then my days feel light and the moments treasured.

E.M. Bounds says, 'Gratitude and murmuring never abide in the same heart at the same time.'  I saw this a few weeks ago and it struck me how true this is.  To wake up with grumbling and murmuring about how hard my night was or how hard today is going to be, then I leave no room for the gratitude I have for this role I have been given for the gifts that you and your sisters are, and that would be a tragedy.  So I lean on the peace and patience that comes from the One who lives in me, the One who created me, the One who gave me you, and I give thanks.

Ida Ruth, I have nothing but joy and anticipation for every moment with you.


{These were taken at one month.  You were 12 pounds and 22 inches}