In the Bag

About two weeks ago, Tom packed his bag for the hospital. My beloved is a planner, and so of course he would do this. I was not quite ready for packing “the bag” and I was maybe feeling a little superstitious, so I put it off.

Last week, he said, “Will you PLEASE pack your bag?”

So I did.

For our first baby, I was  super prepared with labor and delivery comforts. We had massage oil and a tennis ball and a flax bag (for heat) to help manage the labor pains (we didn’t use any of it, and I still don’t think I have ever gotten that foot massage that was promised). An iPod and speakers seemed essential, though we never listened to a note until well after we were settled in the postpartum room. But we also had – get this – a deck of cards, games and magazines and other diversions in case we had a long time to “wait around” for my labor to progress. This category of gear is what really cracks me up. Even if it would have taken longer, I don’t think I would have ever been in the mood to browse an issue of Shape magazine in my fully laboring, nonmedicated state.

This time, I’ve got the massage lotion (same bottle…either gross or practical, I’m not sure) and a massager and heat pack. And of course we have the music on my phone and portable speakers.

Last time, upon the advice of a wise girlfriend, I didn’t bring any of my own clothes to wear, aside from something to wear home. I did take a pair of comfy flip flops for padding around the maternity ward in the early part of my labor. This turned out to be a fine plan. I wore my flip flops and hospital gowns and saved my own stuff for the less fluidy and gooey recovery at home. So, same for this time.

For baby, we took a blanket and a coming home outfit. Same for this time.

With Number One, I packed a few sentimental items as well. A little lidded basket that we use to keep some of Casey’s tiny baby mementos. We put his footprints on the lid when he was just hours old. And a little stuffed dog that is now one of Casey’s favorite cuddle friends. These were gifts from my mom, and she and my dad have provided similar items for us to take along for Number Two.

One addition to my bag just arrived in the mail today, and I am so glad it came in time… a Focal Point.

My labor prep (for both babies) has consisted primarily of relaxation and yoga and some practiced visualizations. While I labored with Casey, I used a few different focal points/objects, but none were exactly planned. There was this one spot on the floor in our labor room. And in the whirlpool tub, I focused on a round tub fixture and visualized my baby’s round head and other images of roundness, openness.

For some time, I have had an eye out for a focal point object to bring with me. And last week I happened to stumble upon Brainstorm Studios (http://www.etsy.com/shop/brainstormstudio). This shop features the designs of Lisbeth Miller, a young woman with a traumatic brain injury, who creates these amazing cut paper mandalas. Her shop – managed by her mother, Martha – is a way for her to share her beautiful art and work towards independence. Martha selected three special mandalas for me – all with very feminine imagery and energy, and I look forward to seeing them nearby when we welcome our new baby into the world.

So, except for my hair dryer, which will go in at the last minute (no, I cannot do without) and a few snacks for Tom (in the event that there is no time for him to get an order of nachos at the hospital cafeteria), it’s all in the bag.

It’s a…

…basketball!!

I have an amazing, gorgeously round pregnant belly. And it is something I am really cherishing right now.

Early on in this pregnancy, I was not feeling such admiration for my belly. I had belly envy in the worst way. I would see other pregnant women – paying most attention to the tall skinny ones – and long to have a basketball belly just like theirs (nevermind that my body shape and size is so not tall and skinny). Mine sported a little poochiness and lacked definition when I wanted it to be…perfect.

But the time has flown by and now I see this belly of mine and it’s looking and feeling just right on me. I just love it.

Part of me feels a little hesitation in getting wrapped up in the outward appearance of my body, knowing full well that what’s happening inside is far more miraculous and important. But I think that getting to a place of contentment with my body, and finding joy in how it looks and moves through the world is a huge thing. So I’ll put the hesitation away and just enjoy.

The Flip Side of Creation

I’ve been thinking about creation, and it’s necessary twin – destruction. Nothing in the world is made new without bringing another “something” to an end.

There are about 3 weeks between today and the day our family of four will be created…and our family of three ends. Casey’s life as the only child. My body’s job as “baby grower.” Tom’s stint as sole cat box scooper. Some things end forever to make new things come into being (though I’ll see what I can do about the cat box scooping arrangement as long as possible).

So this week, I am honoring those things that are ending. Without them we could not have this new person join our family, and without them, I would not be the woman, wife, and mother that I am.

Give and Gather

When Casey was born, we were literally showered with kind gifts from our family and friends. There were the sentimental keepsake gifts, the handmades, adorable outfits in a range of sizes, and gift cards that kept us from spending cash on diapers for about six months (SIX months!!).

And there were also bags and piles of hand-me-downs from friends who had babies ahead of us. Clothes and gear – some of these were seeing their second or third life in our family on our little boy.

So I didn’t think twice to hand down Casey’s baby stuff to the next new babies who could use it. I loved the opportunity to share, and the opportunity to meet up with other mamas to go through the bags of stuff and ooh and ahh over the cuteness. Not to mention the joy in seeing another cute boy strutting or snuggling in the PJs or hoodies, or what-have-you that my Casey wore and loved, but never wore out.

Now our Number Two – another boy – is on the way and we found our top shelves and garage and attic bare of baby boy stuff. I knew all along that if we ever decided to grow our family, that we could acquire the essentials for a little bit of nothin’ – a couple packs of onesies and bottles and we’d be set. So I started making a list of our “needs” and “wants” in the clothes and gear department, and started making plans for what I could make myself (pants, sweaters, hats, baby carrier, bibs) and what we would need to buy (the onesies, bottles, carseat, etc.).

And then the magic started happening. Some things we had passed on were passed right back to us. A carseat and booster chair came from one of our dearest friends (and world-class hand-me-downer, source of much of Casey’s clothes since birth). A friend-of-a-friend (and second or third-generation recipient of Casey’s stuff) sent over what I first expected to be a bag of things, but turned out to be FIVE bags of clothes, with the promise of more to come. And the generous gifts of new and handmades are arriving as well – just what we need and want, and all of it (except for a few keepers that will become just too dear to part with) destined for another baby TBD when the time comes.

Once again, the drawers are full, the gear is ready, and this new baby will be amply suited for his first weeks, months and years in this world. All this cycling and recycling reminds me that when you give with an open heart, you get all that and more right back in return.

It’s fitting that my Grandma sent me a little gift today with the words: “Those who give love, gather love.”

So true.

United in Love

We stand with eyes toward the east,

Awaiting the rising of the star,

And pray that love shall become flesh and dwell among us;

And that compassion shall be born in human hearts.

We celebrate that discovery of fact

in the garment of the legend.

Let every cradle be visited by the three

good kings of Faith, Hope and Love.

Then Christmas is with us always, and every birth is the birth of God among us.

And every child is the Christ Child,

And every song is the song of angels.

To celebrate Christmas is to attest to the power of love to remake humankind.

May we be renewed in the love which can save the world.

~Edward Ericson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Christmas Eve. And being pregnant at Christmas lends an interesting perspective. As I looked and listened around the sanctuary during the Christmas Eve service this evening, I noticed the the children, the mothers and fathers, grandparents and friends and strangers. Each one of us born into this world in the very same way – much anticipated, much loved, and with so much potential.

And there I sat – with my little family and one more on the way – listening to the story, singing the songs, lighting the candle. Thinking of the love, hope and faith that was embodied by the Baby Jesus, and thinking of how we each have the capacity to hold that in our own hearts.

And the greatest gift is to share it.

Merry Christmas to all. May we be renewed by the Christmas Story and united in love.

Letting Go; Making Space

I’ve crossed over into the third trimester with baby boy #2, and thoughts of making space are making their way from the back to the front of my mind. There are the physical spaces to be tended to – furniture rearranging and reorganizing and the like. But more importantly, the emotional and spiritual spaces that will transform with the addition of another family member.

A couple of weeks ago, I dropped Casey off at his Sunday School class and for the first time ever, he just gave me a kiss and a wave and joined the group. No hesitation. My first reaction was pure pride, followed by a twinge of sadness as I noticed the flip side of this new confidence and independence – a little less need for Mama.

But it just took another second or two to realize the natural unfolding of my relationship with baby boy #1. When I saw Casey go on his own, I realized he is letting go – just a little at a time – so we can all make space for our family to grow. The whole event – which happened in about 4 seconds – was just what I needed to help calm my fears and get centered on how much this new person is going to add, not take away.

Recent Observations

• Four years old is big, but it’s not THAT big. My boy still needs “lots of love and attention” (his quote) and encouragement and praise from his parents and other caregivers. I am noticing that I (too often) have too-high expectations for what my son can or should be able to do at this age, and this is adding to the level of stress and frustration in our lives. Mama needs to chill. Enjoy this child for exactly who he is right here today, and go with the flow.

• “Sensitive” is a label that feels like a true-enough descriptor of my son, but also a somewhat unfair, or at least limiting one. Yes, he is still learning how to appropriately express his feelings. And yes, this is probably the most obvious thing that he is working on developmentally. But I wonder (because the I am asking myself this question for the first time as I type), what other ability or interest or achievement is he ready to develop, that I don’t even notice because all we are noticing is that he is “sensitive?”

• Here it is August and we have yet to get ourselves to the beach to play. Sure, we have gone the farm and to birthday parties and to a soccer game and to the zoo and to the grocery and to the shops and out to dinner like a jillion times and we remodeled the kitchen and battled (er, continue to battle) the barking neighbor dogs, and, and, and… but a good piece of summer has passed us by and we are just feeling run ragged by doing stuff. And we haven’t even spent a day at the beach.

• Oh, and we are looking at kindergarten options. KINDERGARTEN!

So what does it all mean? That’s precisely the question, right?

Last fall, I joined a small group of women to explore the idea of Living on Purpose. The group came together at just the right time for me, when I was feeling a little lost and unsure of myself. It turned out to be a remarkable three months of searching and discovering and just flat out getting groovy with who I AM, and what that means for what I DO in this world. And the one little nugget that sticks with me daily is that I finally figured out what my job in this life is supposed to be… to find joy of being (Get it? JOB = Joy Of  Being. Kind of cheesy. I know.).

As I am feeling a little run down and overwhelmed by the demands of my life (especially the concerns I have for my son and my role as his mom), I need to remind myself of my “real job.” That I am here on this earth to find wonder in each moment. To rise above the petty frustrations and superficial hassles of daily life so I can clearly feel the joy of being uniquely me.

When I can bring this true being along in my daily doings, I know that it’s all going to get a lot easier. And not to mention, a lot more fun.

~~~

P.S. For mamas in the Portland, OR area, I highly recommed any of Savannah Mayfield’s workshops and classes. For everyone, she offers individual personal coaching by phone and in person.  She is an inspiring presence in either venue and is just downright magnetic. If you’re looking for help in searching out your purpose or your passion, visit Savannah’s site: http://www.nurturelifecoaching.com/

Weekend Reflection

Friday

• Pick up Casey from school, walk to the streetcar, ride toward the sushi joint, get off early to “walk” the rest of the way (i.e. gallop, run, piggyback ride the last few blocks).
• Eat dinner, coffee/juice box for dessert.
• Walk to the park blocks; chat up the firefighters and get a tour of the rig.
• Explore the park blocks, pretend to be trains, explore the Art Museum sculpture garden, continue train thing all the way to church.
• Attend children’s concert and CD release party for new albums from folk singer, Mona Warner. Run, play, dance, get sweaty, eat cookies.
• Walk to our car and head home; stop at pharmacy to pick up prescription.
• Jammies, books, floss and brush. Bed.

Saturday

• Awake at 6, breakfast, art, make-believe adventures all around the house.
• Mom makes a cowboy vest for “dress up show and tell” on Tuesday.
• Dad pays bills.
• Play date plans get canceled.
• Dad runs errands, Casey and mom play, then pack lunches, get ready for bike ride.
• Bike to nearby community garden; lunch under a shady tree; explore the gardens and see what’s growing; visit nearby playground; ride home.
• Nap for Casey; study time for Dad; mom goes to Woman’s Wisdom Circle.
• Stop at grocery on the way home.
• Friends come for dinner. Make pizza dough – rise, roll, top and bake. Boys play ball in the yard. Dad tends the garden; moms chat. Eat. More playing, running, puzzles.
• Bedtime routine.
• Quiet time for Mom and Dad; everyone rests.

Sunday

• Dad to the movies with a friend; Mom and Casey take the train downtown.
• Coffee and scones, more park block exploration, more sculpture garden adventures.
• Church.
• Slices of pizza in the Square for lunch.
• Fall asleep on the train home; quiet time for Mom.
• Dad gets home; quiet time for Dad.
• Casey up, time to watch a movie with Mom; eat a snack; finalize the grocery list.
• Grocery; haul it home; make and eat dinner, Dad marinates salmon for dinner tomorrow.
• Boys work on the garden; plant broccoli; play ball; in general, run around like crazy.
• Mom calls her mom and dad to catch up.
• Time to slow down, cool down. Bedtime routine.
• Casey asleep; more study time for Dad; quiet time for Mom.

Recounting the events of the weekend, it sure does sound like a busy one. We were on the go! We did lots of stuff! We connected with friends. We even managed to stock the ‘fridge for the coming week.

But somehow, it didn’t feel like a busy weekend. These last couple of days have had a quality of richness that have not felt in a while.

And I think that it all comes down to intention and presence - experiencing each activity in its fullness. Making an effort to spend time doing whatever we were doing, without being overly concerned with the next thing we would be doing. Slowing down in this way allowed me to really enjoy the time I spent with my son and my husband, enjoy the beauty of my city and the patches of nature within it, and enjoy the remarkable people who are part of the landscape of our lives.

In this world of endless options, it is a challenge to keep even a fraction of our days unscheduled and free. But I truly believe that these are the times that we as a family will come to know as the most special, most sacred times we spend together.

Tripping Over Goodness

I’ve been busy. During the past three weeks, I’ve been getting back into the swing of “normal life” after our three-week family vacation to Thailand, while simultaneously getting geared up for back-to-back business travel to Sacramento and then Montreal. Meanwhile, we’ve had family in town, spring fever, and the first stuffy noses (Casey and then me) of the year!

But here I am, snug in the arms of the Boucherville, QC Comfort Inn, taking the time (despite my exhaustion) to reflect on the past few days. I’m awed and amazed at the goodness I seem to be tripping over right and left!  

1. The windfall actually began back in January. Holidays over and I started to daydream about getting back home to see my family sooner than later. We didn’t visit them for the holidays, and I was feeling the pull to spend some time there. But funds are tight and vacation time is slim (due to previously mentioned three-week trip), so I didn’t have a lot of hope this would happen. And then the opportunity materialized. A work project would bring me to Canada in March – a trip that would bring me within a puddle jump from my hometown, on the weekend of my dad’s 60th birthday. And if that wasn’t good enough, the ticket was actually cheaper with the boondoggle than if I were to purchase a direct route. If that is not a gift from the Universe, I don’t know what it is.
2. Red-eye flight to Chicago. First-class upgrade goes through and I am a lucky girl. I sink into my seat, say a quick hello to the guy next me and settle in for a three-hour nap. I’m hardly ever a plane-talker, but somehow, before I knew it, I was deep in a conversation with my neighbor – a writer, root canal specialist, and cave diver, who first advised me on my current dental situation and then ended up sharing his perspectives on family, marriage, parenting and living life without fear. Sounds crazy, but this conversation was just one more example of being in the right place at the right time to hear things you really need to hear. Thank you Richard the Endodontist.
3. Not all my goodness has been strictly for the soul. Some has been completely material, and I am thankful just the same. I left for this trip and didn’t bring a wrist watch. I felt like I needed one. I went out and bought one (a cheap-o to get me through, not wanting to spend much, and in my heart really wanting a “nice” watch that I can’t justify buying myself). At dinner last night, my grandma pulled me aside and gave me a watch – a lovely, elegant watch that is just exactly the one I would have chosen had I been in the place to splurge for myself. Once again, the stars lined up and delivered.
4. Yes. There is one more. Flight to Montreal. Decided to not request the upgrade to First (saving my upgrade points for the longer flight home on Wednesday), but then the flight was full and I got bumped up to First anyway. A minor lucky break, but if we’re counting up goodness, might as well count it all.

This is really just the short list. I have been noticing a lot of goodness these days. And for good reason – I’ve been looking for it. It’s easy to see scarcity and fear. And easy to focus on what is lacking, rather than what is abundant. But I have been consciously looking for the abundance – the beauty, the goodness, the kind words, the wisdom offered up by ministers and parents and cave-diving endodontists.

Tuning in to the goodness tunes out the fear-based thinking that keeps me from living a joyful life. It takes some effort, but when I expect the goodness to come, it comes. And the more I notice it, the more there is to see.

Optimism. It brings forth the good.

Grace

Grace is the spirit of the infinite and divine power that moves in this world, through people, manifesting as hope, love, joy and gratitude. I felt this grace in a profound and powerful way when I became a mother, and it changed my view of the world and my place in it. Not overnight, but I do see that the life-altering decision to become a parent did truly alter me – mostly in ways I could never have imagined.

Being open to grace, being aware of it moving in my life is more than a poetic notion, and much more than any religious doctrine I may have learned or come to believe. Inviting the spirit of grace into my daily life is both easy and difficult. Simple and complex.

How is it showing up?

• A gorgeous Saturday afternoon; chilly but sunny; a joyful, crowded playground; the sensations of my body’s ability to chase, slide, balance, and laugh right along with my son.
•  The chills I’m getting as I listen to coverage of MLK; inspires me to believe in the possibility of peace; inspires me to act from a place of love rather than a place of resistance.
• The deeping of relationships, that only comes when I go deeper within myself, take care of myself, and take responsibility for how I am showing up in the dynamic.

Once again, I see how noticing and accepting what is happening now – leaving the past in the past and now worrying so much about the future – is inviting grace into my life.

The more I experience life with grace, the sweeter it is.