full circle

It's been interesting over the last 3.5 years watching things come "full circle"- in my mind, this is the concept of when something that was once painful comes around again and is redeemed- no longer painful. Throughout the years of infertility and waiting, there were plenty of things that became painful triggers for sadness and grief- but Millie's presence has redeemed them one by one. "Full circle" things tend to be things that are cyclical, that roll around every so often on a schedule, and therefore can accumulate memories and expectations. The first time the event occurs post-trauma (and in my case, the trauma was the years of infertility, waiting, and our failed adoption), I find myself remembering the hurt of the event previously, but now having Millie to make new memories that hopefully wash away the pain previously associated with the day.

Some things came full circle quickly: most holidays, for one. Each pre-Millie Christmas hurt. Each was a reminder that another year had gone by, that this was the Christmas where I was supposed to have a baby...each brought another social media feed full of other people with their happy kids and cute babies. But once Millie was born and a few short months later Christmas rolled around- it just wasn't painful. It was life as I'd thought it should be. The life I'd hoped for. Christmas came full circle.

Christmas 2017. Completely perfect, because she got the Paw Patrol bath toys she'd been religiously begging for all month!

Some things took longer. Her birthday, to be honest. In some ways, her first birthday was difficult- while it was absolutely the anniversary of her birth and her life with us, it was also the anniversary of her losing her birth mother. I felt that. I mourned that when it happened, and I remembered it on her first birthday. It was the anniversary of the enormous, nearly overwhelming stress that covered me during Millie's first few weeks of life, as we waited to pass through each (what felt) excruciatingly slow phase of her adoption to pass and finalize. The stress of those days was pretty damn fresh, even a year later. And so while obviously there were many things to be joyful for and celebrate on her first birthday, I don't really feel like the concept of "hooray, baby's birthday!" was really redeemed until her second birthday. By then, the stressful memories were overwhelmed by the joyful ones and I could really celebrate and eat cupcakes with the reckless abandon one would expect me to. :)

Look at that cute little two-year-old Millie!!!

As we're well into our fourth year with our beloved girl now, most things feel like they've come full circle to me. Name a holiday, any holiday!, and my gut reaction will probably be happiness and excitement. (Whereas in, say 2013, you could say "St. Patrick's Day" and I would get teary because the previous year on St. Patrick's Day I'd just known that next St. P's day I was going to have a baby to dress in green, and now I didn't, and therefore St. P's Day is a big bummer...that's kinda how it worked for me.) I have happy memories of every holiday from the past few years, and excitement and high expectations for happy ones to come. Holidays are happy again. Full circle.

So it's kind of fun and exciting when I find a thing roll around that hasn't yet had the chance to come full circle. I'd kinda thought I'd gone through them all already. But the other day I realized that another one (our last one?) was coming: the Winter Olympics.

You can laugh, but it's true! I love the Olympics, both Summer and Winter. I believe this is well-documented here, haha. But our last Winter Olympics was in February 2014. A few short months after the excruciating loss of our first maybe-baby, and before we knew about Millie (although it should be stated that she was probably an adorable little fetus with lots of opinions hanging out in Mama J's tummy at this point). Although my personal involvement with the Olympics is limited to sitting on a sofa and watching them on TV, I still remember the pain and sadness I felt while watching them last time. It's like this dark cloud that covers my memories of hours on the couch watching other people twirl and speed across ice and do amazing things. (Although I would be remiss not to mention that I do have SOME happy memories of the 2014 Olympics- mainly when we happened to be in Texas for the weekend and stayed with the Joiners and watched the Olympics with them!) 

I remember during the summer 2016 games how redemptive it felt to watch them with Millie sitting in my lap. She didn't know what was going on, but I remembered the previous games and just noted the supreme differences in my life from 2012 to 2016. How much greater the joy. It was wonderful. And now I get to do it again- wipe away just a few more less-than-stellar memories and replace them with joy.

And joy it shall be. If you keep up with me on Instagram stories or Facebook, you might have noticed that Millie is SUPER EXCITED about figure skating these days. She is ALL IN! 

Behold one of our (many) magnificent lifts.

Her current passion is having us find old Olympic figure skating videos on YouTube. She will watch for two seconds before shrieking "WE DO DAT MOVE!!!! PICK ME UP!!! I NEED TO DO DAT!!!" Matt and I have to take turns being her partner, and we're frequently scolded because we aren't as amazing as the people on TV, but we do our best. I mean, we've lived in Georgia our whole lives. Gonna have to lower those expectations, skating snob.

My favorite is when she's taking a break from her skating and she watches the Olympians, she'll point to the female skater and say "dat's me," and point to the male and say "dat's Daddy." ALL THE HEART EYES.

Oh, my other favorite is how she requests to watch the skating. "Mama, we turn on da TV and watch da skaters so I can DO MY MOVES!!! I need to do my MOVES!"

Over the weekend we were playing outside and Millie was getting some toys from the garage. She noticed my dusty Rollerblades shoved back on a shelf and exclaimed "we have ICE SKATES!?!?!?!" with lots of excitement and wonder in her voice. I pulled them out and explained that they were like ice skates for people that don't have ice. Obviously she demanded that I put them on, so I did, and I very gingerly shuffled around the driveway for a minute. She looks at me, dead-pan. "Show me your MOVES, Mama!"

Ummm...I'm 35 and really, really out of shape. I am likely to perish just standing here on wheels. These are all the moves I've got, sistah.

"Dat not amazing. Can you twirl?"

Do you wanna spend the weekend in the ER with me??

She turns away from me, done with these shenanigans.

"Daddy, where YOU ice skates? Show me you moves!"

She. Is. A. Mess. A really cute mess.

I know I've said it a thousand times, but every minute with this girl is a gift. To be sure, some of the moments are less enjoyable than others, but still- such a gift. The joy she brings, the life she restores to the parts of me that felt dead...I will never get over it. She can diss my skating skills all day long, I don't care- this babe just keeps on filling the world with light, and I cannot get enough.

Operation BGB: more emotional than I'd planned

Well, Operation Big Girl Bed is a wrap, folks. The crib is gone, the bed is in, and Millie stays in her bed and sleeps perfectly like a little angel champ, so go ahead and give me my gold star for parenting. BAHAHA. Or not. But seriously, it wasn't too painful.

We got both the upholstered bed and the mattress on Amazon- I'll keep ya posted, but so far we are very pleased with both items! They both had great reviews and were freaky cheap, so that's how we made those difficult shopping decisions, haha. (FYI- those are affiliate links!)

So the bed was delivered on Friday, but we knew the mattress wasn't going to come until Monday. We knew we would have to a) deconstruct the crib, b) construct the bed, and c) when the mattress came, it would need 24-48 hours to grow to its full mattress size once we released it from the box, so we didn't go into the weekend with a real plan of when and how we were going to do all of these things. However, once Millie and I were up bright and early Saturday morning, I made the executive decision that we should go ahead and take down the crib and build the bed that day. I'll be honest- the main reason I wanted to go ahead and do it was because I knew that losing the crib was going to be the hardest part (emotionally) for me. I didn't want to have a "last night" putting her to bed in it because I would probably have just sobbed for hours and made a big messy deal out of the whole thing. As it was, we'd had a relatively routine "last night" the night before and that was just it. I didn't want to put it off. 

But guys- it was hard. 

June 17, 2017- our last morning with our crib

I know you know what I mean. The pain of infertility and loss and waiting and heartbreak is not nearly as salient as it once was, but it's not nearly forgotten. That crib is a lot more than a piece of furniture to me. It is a tangible symbol of hope fulfilled, of answered prayers, of beauty and life. It represents what I longed and prayed for for years and years. And I couldn't be any more thankful for the baby that came to sleep in it, who has grown and thrived and now needs to move on from it...but if I had a lot more rooms in my house, I would leave that crib standing forever. A testament to answered prayer. Something to lay my hands on when I need to remember that He heard my cries. And it doesn't make sense to me, logically, because I have Millie for that, right? I can hold her and remember the same things. And I do. But that crib.

I knew it was gonna be tough.

As I started untying the bumpers, I just lost it. Those are the bumpers I sewed. For our other baby, our first maybe-baby...the baby we didn't get to keep. I wept and prayed for another baby as I sewed these bumpers nearly four years ago. And that baby never got to see them, but in the wake of that loss, Millie came. And Millie did see them, and slept with them, and stepped on them, and smooshed them, and they don't look so hot anymore, but that didn't matter a whole lot to me on Saturday as I sat there untying their impossibly tight knots with tears leaking out as I worked. Like nearly everything in her nursery, those bumpers are more than just (hazardous) pieces of foam-filled fabric. They remind me of our wait. Of the months and years of planning and hoping and making ridiculous, unnecessary hand-made mementos for the baby we hoped would come.

She came. We don't need the bumpers anymore.

I knew I wouldn't be able to watch Matt dismantle the crib itself, so Millie and I left to take a trip to Target. She was watching me as I cried, and when she asked why, I tried to explain. "I'm just sad because this really means you're not a baby anymore, Mills. I can't really explain it any better than that."

"I a big girl, Mommy! But dat otay. We get a baby for da cwib."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that it's not really that easy. I don't think there'll be another baby for that crib. But just in case- we're only putting it in the attic. We can always get it back down.

When we came home from Target, I shed a few more tears as I spied the dismantled crib in pieces in the laundry room. But that was it. Then we went into Millie's room and found her bed all assembled and ready- with a suddenly tiny-looking crib mattress plopped down where the big mattress would go someday soon.

Someone was pretty jazzed about the whole situation!

It took us a little while, but we eventually managed to rearrange all of the furniture in her room to fit without having to move out the glider, which was my main hope. No need to mess up our lovely pre-bedtime rocking routine! This is what the room looked like until last night, when the mattress finally got put in place.

Millie went ahead and started sleeping in the bed on Saturday for naptime. And she did great! She's fallen off a few times (I move that truck out of the way before she sleeps, so if she falls, it's only onto the carpet), and it doesn't seem to bother her at all, haha. She just climbs back up and doesn't seem to even fully wake up. Weird, but I won't complain. I have a pool noodle that I may put under the fitted sheet now that she has the real mattress if she keeps falling- I hear that works well.

The mattress ended up getting delayed a day and didn't arrive until Tuesday. It's one of those foam numbers that comes in a small (well, smallish) box and then magically inflates to full size once you take it out of the vacuum-sealed pack. I must say- that was really fun to watch. And as an added bonus, the box it came in makes a mighty fine bear cave.

We let the mattress do its thing for 24 hours and finally, FINALLY last night got to put the whole thing together for a final BGB product!!

Ta daaaaaaa!!! (Please note Millie also taking a picture with her wooden phone.) 

We got the 12" mattress and between that and the pillows, you basically can't even see the upholstered headboard anymore, haha. But I love it!! And more importantly, so does Millie.

So far going to bed hasn't been a problem at all- we already tend to rock her until she's nearly asleep, and that hasn't changed, so once I put her in her bed she just rolls over and goes to sleep. She has been getting up and coming to our room whenever she wakes up, which is usually between 6:15-6:45...not so bad on the weekdays, torture on the weekend. Ha. But not really different than when she was in the crib, except that we don't have to get out of bed to go fetch her. But last night (the first night on the new mattress) she did wake up and wander on in at about 1:15 a.m. Not quite sure why, and Matt was able to take her back and put her in her bed and she fell asleep pretty quickly...but hopefully that doesn't become a trend. I'll keep ya posted!

And in somewhat related and EXTREMELY important news, I just figured out how to do Instagram Stories last weekend. If you follow me on IG...you probably noticed. Hahaha. I'm having way too much fun, and Millie is obsessed with the fun filters, so...my apologies if you're tired of seeing it, but then again...how could you ever get tired of Millie??!

And with that, we're done. Even thinking about the crib enough to type this post out has me emotionally drained, so I need to go put bunny ears or princess crowns on myself to recover a little. ;) Until next time, friends!

PS. If you need one last glance of Millie's baby nursery, you could reminisce with my old nursery tour post and cry your eyes out a little. Or maybe that's just me. Ha.

one thousand

I had planned to blog about reaching the halfway point of Whole30 tonight, but when I logged on, I noticed that this will be post number 1,000...and that just seems way too monumental a milestone to waste on something as frivolous as a diet nutritional reset. So maybe we'll catch up on the food talk later.

So, a thousand posts. That seems like a lot. I mean, it's been a little over seven years since I posted that first scintillating post, so I guess I'm really only averaging 142 posts a year, but still. A thousand. It feels big.

Hey! Erika of 2008 looks like a younger, skinnier version of Erika of the Present!

I remember what I was thinking when I started this blog. Along with what I explained in my first post about not wanting to be a creepy anonymous commenter anymore, I had another motive as well. You see, I was really into mommy blogs back then. And although we'd only been married barely six months, I knew we would start trying to have a baby sometime soon, and I knew that once we did have a baby pregnancy, I would most definitely want to have a blog. I wanted to do the weekly bump pictures, the monthly updates, the nursery reveal, and most of all- inundate the world with the pictures and stories about our babies. All four of them- because that was the plan.

So I figured I'd better go ahead and 'establish' a blog so that I'd be ready when the time came. I wanted to be in the habit of writing, and I wanted to have a handful of blog friends that would care if I did. So I started writing, biding my time until I could break out into full-fledged mommyblog-dom.

My selfie game was strong then, even if my makeup game was not. And look at that cool date stamp!

And you know, it's a really good thing I started this blog then. God knows I needed all that time to really get in the habit of writing, right? Ha. 

If I'd known then how long my journey to parenthood was going to be, I don't know if I would have started. I had no desire to be an infertility blogger- I barely even knew that such a thing existed. And when I first learned about them, it seemed a little too depressing- and simultaneously like I'd finally found my tribe. And because I found my people, I kept writing. 

And now that I've crossed to the other side, the promised land, the greener pasture, it's easy to focus on everything that's great and awesome (and truly, most everything is), but I am so thankful for the years when it wasn't, but I wrote anyway. Maybe it seems weird, but I don't want to grow satisfied- to forget where I came from, to forget what I went through, to forget the years the locusts ravaged. And I don't want to forget that even in the midst of that, there were so many happy days. So many amazing experiences. There was so much love, and experiences to laugh at, and people to hug, and grammar to rant about. And I'm thankful that I wrote it down so that now, and tomorrow, and in twenty years- I will still remember. And I'm thankful for each of you that came down into my joy or my sadness, whatever the flavor of the day happened to be, and joined me in my laughter and tears.

C'mon now, did you really think I'd force you to go a whole post without a picture of Millie? I know my people.

 If there's anything I've learned in my old age (I'm not the whippersnapper I was back in '08, unfortunately), it's that I never remember as much as I think I do. Sometimes I reread my old posts and am shocked by how I have NO RECOLLECTION of whatever situation or event I blogged about that day- and it's weird, like finding out I have amnesia or something. And so I'm thankful for my record here, and it encourages me to keep going- to write down my stories, even the ones that are mundane or ordinary or less-than-beautiful, because one day (or in ten minutes) I will forget. And I think that would be sad.

They let me get away with ANYTHING during breathing treatment time!! Parent guilt for the win!

 I guess I've rambled for long enough...you know, for like seven years, actually. But I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for caring, for commenting, for sharing your lives, for encouraging me, for challenging me, and for making me feel like my silly stories- all one thousand of them- matter. 

a really big girl and some musing on life

Whoa. It's Christmas Eve. How'd that happen? Also, how'd I make it to Wednesday without blogging? I'm falling apart here, obviously.

On Monday Camilla had her "four month" checkup. The quotation marks are necessary because she is closer to five months than four, but whatev. The big (haha) question of the day was HOW MUCH DOES SHE WEIGH, EXACTLY? Because she looks healthy, if you know what I mean. Not malnourished. Probably going to survive a famine longer than anyone else.

I was worried she was going to be completely off the percentile charts and that I was going to get a lecture about childhood obesity or something. But my worries were in vain- she's still on the chart, hallelujah!! She's a healthy 16 pounds, 14.5 oz...merely the 95th percentile! But put another way- she has DOUBLED (and then some) her birth weight! That's pretty impressive. No wonder my back hurts all the time. She is 25.25 inches long (75th %ile) and her head has grown almost 2 inches since her two month checkup, which explains why none of her hats fit anymore. Also, she has that big smart brain to accommodate. Overall, her appointment went well and she was declared healthy and beautiful. She had to get some shots, though, which wasn't really her favorite. I took the whole day off work so that I could be there to take care of her post-shots if she wasn't feeling so hot. 

Really, she just wanted to sleep.

After that, she wanted to moan pitifully for awhile and then sleep some more.

 And then after that, she decided that all she could manage was to be held and cuddle and nap on her mommy for the rest of the day. It was a real burden, but I managed to step up and help her out...while watching Gilmore Girls and listening to the cold rain outside.

It really wasn't the worst thing ever. To put it mildly.

I got basically nothing accomplished on Monday, but I got to cuddle with my snuggly baby for hours on end, so it was the best day ever. 

Yesterday I went back to work for our final day before Christmas. There were treats and gift exchanges and the day went pretty quickly. Over at my in-laws' house, Millie took napping to a whole 'nother level. To put it in perspective, I normally like her to get between 3.5-4 hours of sleep (total, divided over however many naps) during the day (before I get her at 5:15). That seems to lead to her being the happiest baby possible during both the day and the evening. Lots of days it doesn't happen and she just gets 2.5 hours or so. She can survive on that. Rarely she'll sleep 4.5 hours or so. Yesterday she slept SIX HOURS AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES during the day. Homegirl was WIPED OUT. And she still took another nap before bedtime!! It was like having a really huge newborn.

Today we're packing up to head to my parents' house for Christmas. Matt still has to work today, so the girls are doing all the work.

I contribute by being really adorable and distracting!

I have no idea whether Millie is going to be Super Sleepy Baby today or back to her normal self, so obviously I'm getting a jump start on productivity by wasting away her first nap blogging and drinking coffee in my PJs. (And also washing diapers...that counts towards productivity, right?) I'm sure the car will just pack itself...

I may not be the most productive person in the world right now, but I feel pretty confident I'm the happiest. We haven't even finished our Christmas shopping yet (judge away, people who finished yours in July!!) and probably won't. IOUs for Christmas? I'll text you a picture of Millie? Whatever, can't bring myself to get too worked up over it...I just...baby. All I want to do is cuddle and play with my sweet girl, the greatest gift I could ever even imagine. 

The funny thing is...I've been thinking about this for the last few weeks...it's like, now that Millie is here and I'm a mom, I feel like I can finally breathe again. I can stop worrying about what the future might bring- I can THINK about the future, period. For so many years it was this bleak, scary, unknowable thing and I couldn't dare to hope or dream or even think because I just didn't know what was going to happen and who I was going to be: a mother? Childfree and happy? Childfree and bitter? And now it's like I'm free to hope again. The chains are gone and I am a mother and now I can figure out what else and who else I want to be, too. My heart can grow and all of the sudden I have these random ideas and thoughts and desires that keep bubbling out and smacking Matt in the head- we should do this!!! Hey, what about that? For five years I could only think about ONE THING, and now I can think about EVERYTHING. It's crazy how awesome it feels. (This probably makes no sense to most people, but maybe other people parenting after infertility can relate. If this all sounds like crazed rambling, just blame it on the abundance of sugar-filled holiday treats and overcaffeination.)

I hope you have a very happy Christmas, and know that my thoughts and prayers are always with my sisters still waiting for miracles. My heart aches with yours. I will never, ever forget what that feels like...I will never cease to be thankful for the abundant gifts I've received. 

the most thankful thanksgiving

We celebrated an early Thanksgiving with my family in Augusta this weekend, and I can honestly say that that the thankfulness wasn't limited to a meal this year. From the minute I got there until the minute we left, my heart was just overwhelmed with gratitude and joy over how many good things we have to celebrate this year.

I've wanted a baby for quite a long time (understatement). My sister also wanted and prayed for a baby- and when she got pregnant and I was still heartbroken and waiting, it broke her heart. I will never forget how hysterical sad and apologetic and happy and angry she was when she had to tell me that her dream had come true and she was pregnant. It took a long time for me to convince her that I really WAS happy for her- and I was! But I loved how honest she was- she'd always dreamed and imagined that we'd have kids growing up together. And she was mourning the loss of that dream the same way that I was.

And then we met J, and we were expecting, and Camilla was born, and then our adoption finalized, and then Laney was born...and in the space of a few months, our mourning has turned to rejoicing and our tears are long gone...and this weekend, we celebrated that. We both have babies. Girls. Cousins two months apart in age. Against all odds, we became mommies together and will get to experience our greatest joys (and struggles I'm sure!) together. It's so wonderful I can hardly stand it.

Blurry but beautiful to me anyway. And obviously we dress the girls like twins as much as possible because that is our love language. We dressed ourselves like twins growing up, despite the fact that our five-year age gap meant that we weren't really fooling anyone for a long time...but we didn't care. Dressing alike=love. So the girls will be twins until and unless they develop their own opinions and want otherwise.

Jake, Emily, and Carley were with us all weekend as well which meant lots of together time for all the cousins! Carley loves her baby cousins and really loved helping with their bottles and their pacis. And trying to steal their pacis. 

Laney: This is lame | Millie: This is so sad and scary! | Carley: I've got a boog to take care of...

 My parents were in Grandparent Excitement Level Code Red. And we can thank Mom for the awesome matching jammies. She understands the importance of dressing alike, clearly!

Millie and Laney are not impressed.

Jake (my brother) and Carley, Mark (my BIL) and Laney. You oughta know Matt and Millie by now...

I love this picture of all the dads and babies!!! Eeeeeekkkk!!

It just made my heart so happy to watch everyone loving on and holding and passing around the babies all weekend...and to finally be a part of it. To watch my own daughter be passed from grandparent to uncle to aunt and to see my siblings snuggle and kiss on her and tell her how much they love her and gaaaaah I am going to start crying. It's just that so many things smack of redemption these days, and this is yet another. For every holiday I spent crying in a bathroom, now I get to have a holiday watching a sister-in-law or grandparent rock and sway and comfort my baby, and it's just too much. It's perfect.

She hasn't quite figured out the art of selfies yet, but I'm sure we'll get there!

 We had a quick photo shoot in the backyard to try to get a good Christmas card photo. There aren't any photographers in the family, but I figured I'd put the good camera on auto, assemble some semi-coordinated outfits, find a decently lit spot, and hope for the best. And it went pretty well!!!

This is not the picture we put on the card (which I ordered approximately 15 minutes after the photo shoot concluded, hahaha...I am not a patient woman sometimes!), but it is basically the best picture ever. EVEN LOLA IS LOOKING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION!!! I am in love with this picture and plan to plaster it everywhere. You wanna talk about heart-healing?? Looking at this picture does it for me. I feel the broken pieces mend together a little tighter every time I look at it.

This is my family. My family. Forever.

(I'm gonna cry now, so bye!)

three months!

Camilla is THREE months old today!!! Ahhhhh!!! A whole trimester OUT of the womb!

Yeah, photo shoot in her PJs. So glamorous.

 I know that last month I said I wanted her to stop growing and stay that age forever, but I really mean it this month. Now she smiles a LOT and sometimes it seems like she might almost laugh. And I think she recognizes me! And she interacts with people! And basically she's just loads of fun, so now I'm really ready to hit the pause button for a couple of years.

Aliases: Millie, Mills, Nugs, Snugs. If you had the chance to hold her in real life, you would understand how fitting 'Snugs' is. She's so snuggly!!

Stats: Due to our monthly appointments being almost an entire month behind (that is, her four-month checkup (our next appt) will be only a few days before she turns five months old), I bet I'm never going to have good data for this section. Unless we get a scale for our house, which is also never going to happen. But last month my guess ended up being pretty good, so I'll take another stab. I'd guess her weight is around 14.5 pounds (she was 13 lb 9 oz on 10/20) and height is probably still 23 inches.

She wears 0-3 and 3-6 months clothes and a size 2 in disposable diapers. Her feet don't seem to grow much- she's been wearing the same moccasins for about two months and they're still the only shoes she has that fit her! But since they are so fabulous, I'm not anxious for her to outgrow them. Although I do have more moccs in the next size up. Obviously.

Why yes, I do pull my pants up to my armpits. I'm an 80-year-old man in a 3-month-old's body!

Habits: 
-drinks five 6-ounce bottles per day, generally every 3-4 hours
-sleeps 10-11 hours at night; normally going down to sleep between 8 and 9 p.m. and waking up between 7-9 a.m.
-bathes every other night, but WOULD bathe 28 times per day if that were an option
-takes 2 or 3 'good' naps per day (1.5 hours+) and a handful of catnaps (45 min or less)

Likes: Taking baths is her primary interest and passion in life, followed closely by being blow dried. She also likes eating, being held, listening to music, and looking at a few of her toys (but not all). She is madly in love with the monkey toy that hangs over her changing table. Going outside is almost always a win, unless she hates it. 

Do I want to go play outside?? I don't know- why don't you take me and we'll both find out!

Dislikes: Car rides over 15 minutes (which is 90% of them, since we live 20 minutes away from town). Pulling clothes over her arms and head. Turning her head to the left. Tummy time. Hunger. Getting overtired.

Undecided about: Sitting up in the Bumbo, diaper changes, going to restaurants (lots of pretty lights and loud noise is great, but she has to sit in the hated car seat...), Mommy returning to work and therefore waking her up before she feels like getting up, cold weather

Special skills: Eyelash growth. Strategically ruining outfits with slobber, spit up, or diaper malfunctions. Melting her parents' hearts with adorable smiles and happy babbling.

I'm already out of sappy things to say about her. I just can't believe I get to be her mommy. Every day is the best day of my life, and I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. I'm constantly overwhelmed by how incredibly worth it she is. Every negative pregnancy test, every pillow sopping wet with tears, every prayer that felt unanswered, every miserable Mother's Day, every dollar wasted on doctors and surgeries, every tear, every tear, every tear. Every tear was worth it. If you asked me to describe the years 2009-2014 in one word, it could probably be tears, because that's often what I remember most. 

And every tear was worth it.

One Month

Two Months

dedicated

  Yesterday morning was Camilla's dedication at church. I cannot even tell you how long I've been waiting for this day. Oh wait, yes I can: almost six years. It's so surreal to finally experience the thing you've been waiting for. It's been happening over and over again for the past six weeks, and yesterday was no exception.

Our church is rather non-traditional, I suppose, so our dedication experience may be different than what you'd associate with a typical baby dedication/baptism/christening. For starters, we went with a clearance-rack white dress from Target...no fancy gowns. That's not a rule or anything, we just don't have any family heirloom gowns floating around and I didn't see any reason to spend tons of money on a fancy dress just for the heck of it. I'd rather buy more jeggings and moccasins. ;) Obviously I am a failure of a parent because I don't even have any good close-ups of Millie in the dress. Luckily, it's the same dress she wore for our photo shoot last week, so you'll get to see it eventually.

We start by going up to the front.

Contemplating the massive importance of this day...and lamenting that my former biceps have melted into a pile of fat. Wah.

Kyle, our pastor, talks for a few minutes. There are tears. 

Then he opens up the floor for anyone in the church who has anything they want to share- encouragement, blessings, prayers, etc. This may seem weird, but my church has been praying for us and for this baby for six years. Lots of people have lots of things (and tears) to share. Thankfully, our parents videoed everything- one day Millie will be able to watch and hear how many people love her and have been praying for her and for us. I hope she will love it.

I took this opportunity to weep and make faces like this. Don't you wish you'd been there?

After everyone had shared, Kyle prayed for us and for Camilla. I could be wrong, but I think there was more crying involved.

And then it was done. But not really, because I haven't told you the most exciting part.

Not only did a whole slew of folks from my family and Matt's family come out, but a lot of Camilla's biological family were there as well. Back in August, before we'd been released from the hospital, one of J's grandmothers had asked if we were going to have Camilla baptized, and if we were, would it be okay if she came to watch and support us? I was floored and honored and told her that nothing would make us happier. So when the dedication was scheduled, I let her know. She asked if it would be okay to invite some other family members; we said absolutely. Word spread quickly around the family, and yesterday there were NINE amazing folks from Millie's birth family-- including J!!!-- there at church to support her and us. 

I was blown away. I mean, I knew they were coming, but still. Blown away. 

Because this is how they have been from the beginning-- 100% supportive of J, 100% supportive of us. Overflowing and abundant in their love for all of us. They came and they loved us and they held Millie and they exclaimed over her cute nose, her red eyebrows, her adorable moccasins. They told us how thankful they are for us, how often they think of us, how excited they were to be able to support her on this important day. We hugged and we cried and when people shared words of encouragement during the service, J shared. She told us again how thankful she was for us. Can you see why I can't stop crying?? Oh, and they don't live in town, by the way. J rode overnight on a bus to be there that morning.

There very well may have never been a child so loved by so many.

I am so thankful and encouraged that this is Millie's heritage. That she will know and be known and loved by all of us? Unbelievable. I never even dared to hope that we would be in an open situation this positive. This is redemption beyond my wildest dreams.

So yes, yesterday was amazing, unbelievable, breathtaking, tearjerking- pick your adjective. I waited for this day all of these years, and I didn't even know what I was waiting for. I never could have imagined it would be what it was- my greatest hopes fell far short of the reality that we experienced. 

A year and a half ago I wrote about the locusts. I had no idea what my redemption would look like- I only prayed it would come. I felt this peace inside that one day, redemption would come. And then, over the next few months...well, it was the opposite of redemption. It was the misery of the previous four years amplified by like fifty. Thousand. But somewhere deep inside, a tiny piece of my heart clung to the hope that He would restore the years that the locusts had stolen. 

And now I'm living in that redemption, and sometimes I'm so overwhelmed I can't even breathe. He has restored the years that the locusts had stolen. 

The paradox of this new phase of my life is funny, in a way. Really, it's all about Millie. Anyone will tell you that being the parent of a newborn isn't all about you. But in a way, having my life be all about her for now...well, it restores me. When I change her diaper, my soul rejoices. When she cries for 20 minutes and I have no idea why, but I do the best I can to comfort her...a part of my broken heart is healed. When she smiles at me (completely unintentionally, probably because she has gas), the tears of months past are replaced with happier memories. When the biological family of my daughter hug me and thank me for loving and parenting the baby we all love...I can't even describe it. It's too beautiful and my heart explodes. This is redemption.

Praise the Lord, my soul;

    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the Lord, my soul,

    and forget not all his benefits—

who forgives all your sins

    and heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit

    and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things

    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. 

Psalm 103:1-5 (emphasis mine)

stop talking. now. NOW.

There's one tiny Mexican restaurant in our tiny little town. Not Athens, obviously-- there are at least 100 Mexican restaurants in Athens, thank God, but in the little town where our house actually is...there's one. Therefore we eat there at least once a week. I won't disclose what the max number of times we've visited it in a week is...that would be embarrassing (but less so if you think of it from the perspective that I'm just trying to support small local businesses...). Anyway, for the past several years, we spend every Tuesday evening there with Matt's family. Taco Tuesday is one of my favorite parts of the week.

Last night our crowd was slim-- just Matt, his dad, and me. Matt's sister Amy is due to give birth to our newest niece any minute now (or, technically...two days ago...) and so Matt's mom is up in NC with her. We're friends with the family that owns the restaurant (obviously, since we're probably the main reason they're still in business) and the waitress, so it was normal for them to inquire about where Matt's mom was when they noticed her absence. We told them about the impending arrival of our niece, which soon turned into a short, sweet discussion about babies in general and how cute and sweet they are. Nothing wrong with that.

But then.

I'm sorry, it's taking me a minute to figure out how to even tell this story.

Please recall who is sitting at our table. Me, Matt, and my father-in-law.

We're friendly with the workers there, but in a normal-small-town-restaurant-owners/workers-frequent-diner way. Like, we chat once or twice a week while ordering dinner and refilling beverages. We don't talk on the phone or invite each other over to our houses. We're not roommates or cousins. We're not even Facebook friends.

So I'm having a hard time figuring out how our conversation so quickly turned wrong.

Here was the progression. Pretend this is a fancy flowchart.

Mom isn't here because Amy's having a baby-->Babies! Yay! Yes, it's a girl. Yay, girls are great!-->Our waitress can't believe how quickly babies grow up. Her youngest is already 13 months!-->All three of our waitress's babies were conceived while she was on birth control. She is the most fertile person ever!-->Yep, the first one was the shot, the second one was an IUD, and the last one was the arm implant thing. But after the last one she had surgery so now there REALLY SHOULD NOT BE ANY MORE!!-->But still, there's a chance that she's pregnant, maybe.

If you ever see me making this face while you're telling a story, there's a 100% chance you should stop telling your story. 

Yes. I'm sure that Matt and his dad were SUPER pumped to find out all of that about our friendly waitress!

I mean, infertility issues and over-sensitivity aside...isn't that pretty much ALWAYS INAPPROPRIATE UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES (to share with strangers...not like, your doctor or your best friend)??

I was slightly tempted to respond with the tales of the 71 cycles that Matt and I have tried and failed to get pregnant, or the variety of drugs, surgeries, and specialists that haven't worked for us. Or maybe shown her pictures of the baby that we thought would be ours but wasn't. Or maybe just faked a stroke and had someone call me an ambulance to get me out of there.

But I didn't. I just made variations on that face and ate my taco really fast.

I don't know if any of yall are waiters, but here's a valuable tip if you are. Maybe don't share that stuff with random patrons.

To be honest, it didn't really upset me all that much. I think I was so busy being amazed and awed by the insane inappropriateness of the whole thing that it shielded me from being hurt. And now I'm telling yall and we can all have a big laugh at it, so perhaps the experience was valuable after all. 

But still. Just...no. Stop.

reason #1839018

It's probably never come up here before, but I'd really like to be a mom. I know. Little-known fact. But it is what it is, and I have a never-ending supply of reasons why I need a kid or 4 to call my own. The recent passing of Mother's Day combined with the pervasiveness of social media reminded me of one of the main reasons I really, really need a kid, like, stat.

These things:

This was filled out by my co-worker's son. I hope she doesn't mind that I stole it from her Facebook for illustration purposes. And now I really want her recipe for chicken bones.

I don't really know what to call these things. Interviews about your mother? Biographies according to a four-year-old? Maybe. Whatever. The point is, they are hilarious. 

While I mostly just roll my eyes or make fun of most of the cheesy stuff people put on Facebook around Mother's Day (those being the highly preferred alternates to crying or being jealous, obviously)-- anyone who shares one of these that their kid filled out instantly gets 10000 bonus points from me. I don't even care if I know you. I love reading what kids think about their moms. I wish that this had been a thing when I was in preschool. I'm dying to know what I thought about my mom back then.

So you know how childless people always think they know everything about parenting and that they have it all figured out? And they have all these grand plans about how they're going to raise their kids and they just know that their kids are going to be great sleepers, easy to potty train, and love vegetables because the pre-parent is just so educated and disciplined and special and smart? Right. I mean, I'm pretty much like that, but only about unimportant things like this. I have no idea if my kids will ever sleep through the night, but I know for damn sure that my kids are going to fill out these awesome mom surveys like once a week from the time they're old enough to utter a syllable that can possibly be construed as a word. And then I'm going to put them on Facebook and make everyone laugh at them. You're welcome, humanity.

So the moral of this story is that if you have a kid and you aren't regularly encouraging (slash forcing) your kid to fill out a biography about you...please rethink your parenting. And then amend your ways and put a picture of the result on Facebook so that I can be filled with joy at how funny it is. Often. Thanks!!

(PS. You can stop once your kid is older and smart. They aren't as funny when the answers are actually true-ish. So use your judgment and only share the funny/cute/precious ones. Not the ones where they actually know how much you weigh. Awwwwkward.)