The Last Time

From the moment you hold your baby in your arms,

You will never be the same.

You might long for the person you were before,

When you had freedom and time,

And nothing in particular to worry about.

You will know tiredness like you never knew it before,

And days will run into days that are exactly the same,

Full of feedings and burping,

Diaper changes and crying,

Whining and fighting,

Naps or lack of naps,

It might seem like a never-ending cycle.

But don’t forget…

There is a last time for everything.

There will come a time when you will feed

Your baby for the last time.

They will fall asleep on you after a long day

And it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child.

One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down,

And never pick them up that way again.

You will scrub their hair in the bath one night

And from that day on they will want to bathe alone.

They will hold your hand to cross the road,

They never reach for it again.

They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles,

And it will be the last night you ever wake to this.

One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus” and do all the actions,

Then never sing them that song again.

They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate,

The next day they will ask to walk to the gate alone.

You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face.

They will run to you with arms raised for the very last time.

The thing is, you won’t know it’s the last time

Until there are no more times.

And even then, it will take you a while to realize.

So while you are living these times,

Remember there are only so many of them

And when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.

For one last time. 

                                                                                                  ~author unknown

Footsteps in the Snow

We may be huddle inside sheltered from the cold, our "external" lives temporarily on pause waiting for the storm to pass, the sun to shine, the temperature to rise, but outside where the wild creatures grow life goes on unstopped by its own. Through the wind and the snow, little creatures make their way to sustenance, looking for scraps where they can, their lives at once tampered with and connected to ours. Squirrels munch, birds flutter, all while the blizzard goes on, unfettered by that into which they have been intricately woven, inexplicably created, and eternally bound. 

All of life is a miracle. My miracle today is bearing witness to its glory, its beauty, and its mystery.

Two Yolks

Life in Ifrane was definitely full of firsts: first international trip solo with two kids, first separation from extended family, first experience in country living, first immersion in a new culture, first realization that life could be so much more with so much less, and first taste of the abundance of nature. 

Growing up I have memories of stories told of two yolk eggs. My uncle was one who repeatedly spoke of these rare eggs and how surprised and delighted he gets when he cracks an egg to find two yolks. But while I had heard of them before, I had not met one in person. And while I carried his stories close to my heart and in my memory into adulthood, I thought these eggs were a myth until one day in Ifrane. 

As I was making breakfast one morning, the mythical magical eggs came to life. As I pondered which egg to take out of the refrigerator, I deliberately chose the larger egg. I was being a mom and wanting JR to eat I needed to provide more substance with only one egg. The egg seemed exceptionally big compared to its compatriots but I did not give it a second glance and thought that eggs came in all different colors and sizes. It was not until I cracked it open that I received the gift that was inside; two yolks to one white. Certainly a lesson in humility, abundance and gratitude. Finding the extraordinary in the every day and God every where. I paused, took a photo, savored the miracle of life in its simplest form, and moved on to enjoying the bounty of nature, sharing it with those nearest and dearest to me. 

This Life

Gratitude

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."

~ Melody Beattie

Today I am grateful for being able to enjoy a sit down breakfast with my family ~
on a weekday!
manakeesh bi zaatar, olives, tomatoes and tea. 

The Journey

“The journey was never meant to lead to some new and improved version of me; that it has always been about coming home to who I already am.”

~ Katrina Kenison, 

Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment

home

Abundance

"Abundance isn't success. Abundance isn't perfection. Abundance isn't some fancy word for money. Abundance is simply being content with what you have, and who you are right now." 

~ adapted from the Abundant Mama Project

and right now I am a wife, a mother and a daughter.
for now that is enough. 

Gratitude List ~ Ifrane

It is after midnight and I have been thinking about all the things "good" about life in Ifrane. A gratitude list reflects what my family and I have been blessed with and what I am thankful to have experienced. 

~ sit down breakfasts and family dinners
~ beautiful sunrises and colorful sunsets
~ clear blue skies and white clouds
~ fresh air, both cold and refreshing
~ winter snow, summer breeze
~ long days and short nights
~ radiant heat, both comforting and sweltering
~ tank tops in the middle of winter inside, all bundled up outside
~ all the hot water I can use, supplied at a low cost
~ full moons on clear nights and rays of sunshine through the fog
~ the downstairs neighbor and their trusty nanny
~ time alone with Yousef and shared playtime with JR
~ homemade meals that are entirely made from scratch
~ cooking with no recipes, baking with no exact measurements
~ breads and cakes and yogurts
~ pancakes and french toast
~ improvising with what is available; doing the best with what is on hand
~ no ready snacks, no processed foods
~ flexible schedules; late departures and early returns
~ lunch dates and afternoon walks
~ dinner parties and tea sippings
~ seasonal vegetables all fresh and cheap
~ mint and parsley at 25 cents a bunch
~ pomegranate, persimmons, figs and quince that are not luxury
~ artichokes, fresh peas, and fava beans; all the eggplant and beets I can eat
~ lemons that juice, bananas and grapes from down the road
~ fresh eggs bought by the one, placed in plastic bags
~ a butcher, a chicken guy and a produce seller who cut me a special price
~ a gated community; a safe place to play
~ sleeping with doors unlocked; trusting the apartment to a stranger
~ the sounds of the athan floating through the air
~ helpful hands around each bend
~ time to write, read, cook and play
~ daily showers, baths, sink cleanups
~ a stronger marriage, a happier family
~ a little boy and a not-so-little anymore girl
~ a wonderful husband, and a supportive family
~ healthy kids, fit and energized
~ rosy cheeks colored by the outdoors
~ friends in the distance
~ few distractions, no obligations
~ little to do and no where to go
~ a lot of peace and a lot of quiet; no horns, no bells, no sirens; no rings or tone; no planes and no trains
~ the green, the blue, the white
~ life that is basic, simple, and unobstructed
~ living focused on the here and now, on the immediate and important
~ life as it is meant to be lived
~ a sleepy town in the Atlas mountains; a little town lost in time, sitting at the edge of the map.

Morning

Every morning I wake up to a beautiful sunrise. I take a moment to notice, then I take another to capture. I have set an intention to photograph as many of these as I can before I leave Ifrane. Here is one from Tuesday. 

Painted Toes

Some time ago I signed up to receive Emerging Women's newsletter in my inbox. Every week I get an email and most of the times I immediately delete it without going through its content first. Every once in a while I stop and read in the hope of finding a message that resonates with me, words of wisdom I can take and make my own, actions I can foster and form into a habit. Last week I heard my calling.

The email, received on February 2nd, was titled "The Power of Choosing Your Words Wisely." I had an "Ah-ha" moment. For some time now Jeff and I had been discussing the power of words and how words affect our perceptions, and our actions. But discussing and seeing are different things, at least to me. Some people learn by hearing, some people learn by seeing. I am of the latter. Seeing the words on paper struck the cord that Jeff had been trying to strike for years. I copied the quote, published it on my blog, and proceeded to read the post.

There were a few items on the agenda but only one that stopped me in my tracks: "From Stupid to Silly with Self-Love." The item summary went as follows: "It’s not only the words we say that have power, but also the words we think." Another "Ah-ha" moment. Another lesson I have been trying to learn. I clicked on the article and read on. It made sense. I wanted to delve deeper. I clicked on another link. It lead me to the Self Love Movement. I was skeptic but kept on reading. Both kids happened to be napping together, the dishes were done, the house was clean, dinner was ready and laundry was growing behind the bathroom door, so I had time to explore.

And explore I did. And downloaded the free e-book offered on the site. It was free so I had nothing to lose and so much to gain. And gain I did. I have only had the book for a few days and read through the first few chapters and yet I can say with confidence that it has had changing effects on me. I had posted about my change in perspective and how I was finally good and ready to perceive what has always been in front of me. Well now I am starting to put this change in perspective into action.

Throughout the book Daylle poses exercises to aid in breaking the pattern of negative self-talk and foster self-love. And while I am yet to fulfill many of these one that I have been consciously and duly applying is showing myself love randomly throughout the day. From lighting a scented candle, to taking a shower, to eating chocolate I have been mindful and deliberate in my effort at being kind and loving to me. So rather than doing the dishes today, I painted my toes. The bottle of manicure had been sitting on the shelf since we arrived in Ifrane, and before that it had sat unopened in the bathroom cabinet for at least three seasons. It was a gift from my mom and I had been too lazy and too cheap to try it out; I did not want to spend the money on nail polish remover and I could not be bothered to take it off even if I had had the nail polish remover on hand. Today, though, I said "enough!" It was time I made time to enjoy the little things, like red toes. And so, I painted them and marveled at how little time it took to do something "nice" to myself. And by doing that, I made myself feel good, which in turn translated into having a better day. Why had I waited so long for this? Because, I was just not good and ready yet!

Daily To-Do List

Perspective

We have been gone from our homeland almost five months and I am not going to say "boy where did the time go"; I know exactly where the time went ~ in Beirut! The two months I spent in Beirut were not only life-saving but also life-changing. I needed to get away from the quiet of Ifrane, I needed to head back to the city, I needed to be part of a hustling urban life again, I needed to be with a support system beyond my husband, I needed to be out and about, I needed good food and much love. And, I got more than I bargained for staying with at my uncle's house, sharing a three-bedroom apartment with him and his wife and live-in maid and my cousin, her husband and their baby.

I got love, I got food, I got family. I also got perspective. I got perspective on paying attention to what matters most. On sitting still and watching the world go by. On surviving rainstorms, cold waves and uncertainty. On spending hours in the kitchen, days at home and nights awake. I got perspective on doing things I enjoy, slowly, deliberately, with intention.

I witnessed my uncle's wife cooking away so that we can enjoy her labor, serving us only the best of what she made, setting aside what did not meet her expectations. I saw her start making a dish from scratch because the end result was too runny, too tart, too doughy. I saw her mixing love with joy with sweat to bring forth elaborate meals and wondrous dishes. I saw her heart and soul and pride at the table and in every dish. I saw that and marveled.

I saw my aunt making her way to her beauty salon religiously every morning. At 8:30 she would stop by on her way to work, talk in a loud voice, open bedroom doors, wake up those who are still sleeping, "force" feed those who have not eaten, dress those who are still in their PJs, catch up on the previous day's events and heads out promptly a few minutes before 9 to open shop. She rarely had appointments that early but she still made sure the salon was open at the expected time. She also rarely had late appointments but she also made sure she closed shop at the expected time. Even during the day when work was slow and there was a lull in customers she would stay put loyal to whoever may show up unexpected.

I spent time with a friend whose husband works in a different country and who is raising three kids on her own. She spends her mornings and evenings and at times everything in-between with her dad making sure he sees his grand kids as much as possible. She and I met on the street as we were walking our kids to preschool. We immediately connected and became almost inseparable for six weeks. We talked, walked, baked and hung out as much as we could, rain or shine.

I spent time with another friend, one I did not think I would reconnect with after years of separation who is raising four kids, one of whom has a learning disability. She and I grew up together, moved apart, reconnected a few years back, slacked off in connecting and then came together again. Every Wednesday and Saturday we would come together and watch our kids play. We chatted about life, the present, the past, the future. We shared mothering tips and tricks. We fed the kids. We looked at old photos and thought back to when we were kids; those were the days!

I spoke to my mom on the phone; she was sad and lonely. I checked in on my dad; he is old and sick. I missed them both, the kids missed them both, they missed us. Yet, they were both going about their days as best they could: my mom waking up in the morning, getting dressed, walking to the bus stop, having her morning coffee, heading to work. Working her shift, bundling back up and heading home to dinner and sleep.

I spent time with family; a lot of time with a lot of family. I saw my Teta and Jeddo; they are old, and live by themselves in the same house they married in. They met the kids; that made the move to Ifrane worth it. I connected with my cousins and their kids, with my uncle's wife who had a double mastectomy, with my uncle's wife's family who are welcoming and very loving.

I spent time with my kids, walking the streets, visiting the stores, being outside. I saw rich relocated Syrians and poor displaced ones. I chatted with the rich and thought often of the poor. I helped where I can and watched, amazed, grateful, speechless and breathless as JR did the same; sharing her change, her snacks, her thoughts with the children on the street. Her questions, ponderings, and reflections on their situation made my heart swell with love, joy, and pride. I remarked at the little boys who stopped at nothing to get a few pennies; standing in the way of cars, chasing after them, hanging from the open windows as they started up at a green light. If only they would take this determination with them when they grew up.

I also spent a lot of time inside, surrounded and alone. And I learned, or rather I re-learned, lessons that have always been in front of me. I learned about perseverance, patience, love, generosity, hope, faith, letting go, relaxing, dedication, loyalty, sacrifice, loneliness, old age, sickness, health, finding a way, getting past setbacks, giving and getting second chances, and starting over - always starting over. It is amazing how one can go through life side by side with valuable lessons and yet never really see them until one is good and ready. I think I am finally good and ready.

Morning prayer

blogger's note: here is another post from the past. I wrote this before I had an active blog and after I had met Karen Maezen Miller at a retreat in Pittsburgh. At the time, I did not know what was waiting for me; but I knew it was a golden opportunity. I got an invitation and felt it was my calling. It was the first time I leave JR for 8 hours since she was born to focus on me. I was nervous, and I was thrilled. And, I was glad I went. It changed my life.


Tuesday, October 4^th, 2011

My morning prayer….

I do not start my morning by brushing my teeth. Nor do I start it by washing my face; taking off my PJs; or checking my email, the news, the mail. I start it in the kitchen. I end it in the kitchen too. That is my morning prayer.

Every morning I get up and the first thing I do is head over to the kitchen. I put away yesterday’s dishes and start on today’s. I clean up what we enjoyed last night and plan for what we will tonight. I make Jeff’s breakfast, his lunch and snack. I envision what JR is going to eat and carefully, mindfully, almost religiously put her food together. I take my time selecting what fruit is going into the yogurt today. Will I put honey or will I let it be a little tart. Is she going to have oatmeal this morning, or grilled cheese or maybe scrambled eggs? Will I put fresh fruit in the oatmeal or will it be dried, frozen or squeezed? Add a little milk to get that extra calcium in there or just have faith in that she is eating enough calcium as it is? And dinner? Will it be cooked from scratch? Defrosted? Or assembled from leftovers I already have? All these thoughts run through my mind in the early hours of the day before anyone else in our house has risen. Every day I make those little decisions that will affect my family on that day and the many days to come.

For a long time I dreaded waking up in the morning to what I had erroneously conceived as a “chore.” Why did I have to be the one waking up first and getting to work as soon as I did? Where was the reward? I had nothing to show for my labor. The food got eaten; the mess got tidied up. But one day it struck me, this is my morning prayer. This is who I am. This is what I was meant to be. The caretaker, the caregiver, the mother – a mother to my child and in some ways to my husband. It struck me that this role was beyond the narrow limits of the domestic, the here and now. This role was here and now but it had effects, consequences on the beyond, on the tomorrow. The decisions I make each and every morning will in some way or another affect what will be in the coming hours, days and months. And so, after many months of scowling at my role, I finally embraced it. And embracing it has made it that much more enjoyable. It has made my life that much more enjoyable. It changed my life. And it started with a book: Hand Wash Cold.


note: you can read an excerpt from the book here.

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 7

Care Packages ~ puzzle books, chocolate, and gifts make for a wonderful surprise; especially when least expected! I honestly do not know how I could have made it this far without my precious friends.

Hand-written notes in the mail ~ enough with bills! Cards, letters and personal notes make my day. A few words on cardboard with a postage stamp bring plenty of cheer, for JR and me. They bring special cheer from JR when they are accompanied by stickers!

Pizza ~ delivery, take out, dine-in or leftovers. Full price, half price or two for one. When JR needs a treat or everyone needs a break, we call on the dough, tomato sauce and cheese for comfort.

Tea Party ~ cupcakes and juice boxes make for a wonderful makeshift "tea" party. Just because we cannot have a formal setting does not mean we cannot have a great time.

T.V ~ when everything else has been tried, I turn the set on to make the hours go by faster. I do not watch anything in particular; just whatever meets my fancy at the time.

35 weeks 3 days... or

entering my 18th week of bed rest...

Today marks another milestone in my journey with this pregnancy. At noon today I can say I have been on bed rest for as long as I have not been on it this pregnancy. At noon today I can look back and think of what could have been had I not been put on bed rest; and trust me, there could have been a lot in either case. At noon today I can recall what the last thing I did was, the last place I visited, the last mile I drove, the last of many lasts and the first of many firsts.

What began as a trial bed rest period stretched out to become a new way of looking at the world, a different way of dealing with circumstances, an alternate approach to being. What started as a week of observation, turned into a month, two months, twelve weeks, and now eighteen. Only a little remains of this pregnancy, but what remains will remain wrapped in limited mobility, in house arrest, in being careful. By the end of this pregnancy I will have been down more than I have been out and about.

There has not been a day in the life of this pregnancy that was worry-free. From the day the test turned positive to the day the sonogram showed an incompetent cervix to this day, I have been flagged with one medical concern after the other. First, came the bleeding and the fear of another miscarriage. Then, the morning sickness, the cramps, the side effects of the progesterone pills. Giving up yoga, limiting my outings with Jannah-Rae to one a day, not being able to push the stroller much past our apartment complex, getting through the first trimester to annouce the news to friends and family.

Once the twelve week mark came, I sighed a sigh of relief. I left my progesterone pills behind, and looked forward to a pain-free second trimester. The announcements went out, the news circulated. I bought maternity clothes, got a pregnancy massage, booked a hair cut (which I never did get). But, I was still experiencing physical pain and needed help pushing the stroller up the hill. Many times I would stop to catch a breath, sit rather than run around, order in rather than cook. The doctor thought it was just my body stretching to accommodate the new being. I thought not much more of it. I coped and took my constipation medication regularly. I paced myself and did my best to balance the pain with JR. The walks were taking the place of yoga, and that was ok; it was all temporary and I was still getting some exercise. In the back of my mind, though, there was still the concern with placenta accreta. The complications from its previous occurrence still fresh in my mind. Every day that passed I thought about whether or not my uterus would rupture; that risk was also there. What would happen if I needed a hysterectomy. Jeff and I always thought I would be put on bed rest during this pregnancy, we just never thought it would happen so soon.

The promise of a pain-free trimester, however, was never fulfilled as six weeks into it brought on the status quo, during which I graduated from the "golden" trimester and entered the home-stretch of the journey. The transition was obvious: the scale read out the numbers, the mirror reflected the image, the aches and pains told stories. What started as a much awaited pregnancy, turned into a must forget journey. But at least the journey is still ongoing.

It is easy to lose sight of what the status quo has meant for the baby when I focus too much on what it meant for me, Jeff and Jannah-Rae. Some days all I can see is the "I don't have's" and "I didn't do's". Other days I feel blessed to have landed in bed by a mere stroke of a talented doctor who spent an extra five minutes reading through my history and another five minutes looking past the routine.

When I look back at how seemingly coincidental her discovery of my condition was I am left speechless. When I think how her partner's medical opinion could have cost us the life of this baby I am left outraged; outraged that he was willing to risk the baby's life because of studies he had read and research he quoted; outraged that he was not willing to take a chance, think outside the box, perform a procedure. I am also left thankful; thankful that she was of a different opinion, thankful that she had a different approach, thankful that she took the decisive action, thankful that she took a chance, thankful that she followed her intuition and did not let the past dictate the present.

This bed rest has been many things. I can name them all, but that would mean a laundry list of feelings I would rather forget. It would also mean a separate, but equally lengthy, laundry list of those I need to remember. This second list could be summarised in one word...Grace. If nothing else, this bed rest has saved this baby's life. That is a true blessing.

Never "just"...

                                                 Finding Joy

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 6

in alphabetical order...

Fresh air ~ Being on bed rest in the winter has been both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing because with the cold and the wind I do not feel like I have been
missing much "outdoor" time:
walks, playgrounds, open air concerts, outdoor seating, etc.
A curse because for the past fifteen weeks I have been
breathing in and breathing out the same stale air that is warmed by a heat pump.
But one day last week the weather was so fine for winter
that I was left on the couch
tucked underneath blankets, wearing my warm coat,
with the windows and door wide open.
The cold clean air came wafting in and I felt like I was in a different place and time.
If could have captured that smell I would have bottled it up,
but alas moments are fleeting and the best way to make them last
is to enjoy them while they are here.

A visit from Grandma ~ It is no secret that Jannah-Rae loves her Grandma.

So, it comes as no surprise that her visit to help us through a couple of weeks of bed rest

is instrumental both to my sanity, and JR's.

For over two weeks Grandma has been the center of JR's attention,

her playmate, bath buddy, bed pal, walker, and friend.

JR would sleep with Grandma at her side,

and wake up asking for her.

When it was time to say goodbye, JR was heartbroken,

but understanding. Grandma will be back soon.

March is not too far off.

Sidelines ~ Sidelines is a non-profit organization providing support for women and their families experiencing complicated pregnancies and premature births.

One of my friends referred me to their services and I have been corresponding with my e-mail support since October.

Her presence, and advice, have been invaluable.Her words have gotten me through some rough patches, and her encouragement has inticed me to keep my feet up.

Sunshine ~ I cannot imagine how much more challenging my journey would have been had I lived in the Northwest.

In the few days that I missed the sun, my spritis have slumped, my mood has swung, and I felt as close to rock bottom as I could be.
On sunny days, however, I tend to be lighter, the prospects for success more bountiful,

and the burden bearable.

Our living room gets plenty of morning sun, and warms up in its heat.
I am lucky to be able to perch on the couch and enjoy the warmth,
even on cold, cold days.

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 5

in alphabetical order....

 



 

A delivery date ~ An unexpected call from my OB's office at 5:02 on Wednesday informed me that my C-section had been scheduled for Monday, March 11th at 2:00pm.
I know my OB and I had discussed scheduling the surgery, I just did not know he had pinned down a date and time.
Talk about a surprise!

No more drug refills ~ I am down to my last prescription from being a walking pharmacy in the past weeks. And, in a couple of weeks, I will completely drug free; at least until post surgery!
Until the baby is born, I will no longer need to keep track of when I took my previous pill,
wake up in the middle of the night to take another,
or suffer the consequences of not having taken a third.
I do not have to worry about JR finding the pills and mistakenly popping one in,
or about dropping one on the floor and having to bend down to reach it,
or about timing my call to the pharmacy to get the refill in time.

Last visit to the MFM office ~ They have done everything they canfor me and from here on after I am on my own. When I went in on October 17th for an anatomy scan,
we walked out with heavy hearts and worried minds.
The January 15th visit, however, stood in direct contrast. We walked in with no expectations and walked out with light hearts and eased minds.
The journey is far from over, but at least we now are through the heavy woods.

The public library ~ The most trusted way to get the books I needed to keep me entertained during this dragging time. While only a small percentage of the books I check out end up on my shortlist, the service the library provides has been instrumental,
both to me and to Jannah-Rae.
From the comfort of my bed or couch I look books up, put them on hold,
request they be delivered to the nearest branch, and wait until my mother picks them up.

Sundays ~ These are the days that mark the passage of time. Every Sunday that passes, my baby grows another week, and with every Sunday we move closer to a full-term pregnancy.
Sundays used to stamp the end of a week, now they usher in the beginning.

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 4

Books ~ hours of learning, snuggling, and fun. On the couch, in the bed, or on the floor.
From the library, the shelf, or online.
A story book, a coloring book, or even a sticker book.
In Arabic, or English.
Hard cover, paper back, or even soft books.
As long as it is a book,
JR wants us to read it.

Braxton Hicks ~ only because I have made it far enough in the pregnancy for them to become par for the course, and because I have the means to ensure they do not turn into more than just "practice runs."

Couch, or rather the back of the couch ~ because I need somewhere to store my stuff while I recline for hours on end in one spot.

Throughout the day JR brings me books, puzzles, the iPad,

packages, the mail, the camera, you name it, 

and I stash them where my arms can reach and where they do not get in the way.

By the end of the day, the back of the couch becomes our new storage area. 

Some days can even find empty plates, water bottles, and power chargers sitting there.


Fetal Kick Counter ~ while I do not feel like I really need it, it is another milestone in this pregnancy. This baby has been quite active since I hit my second trimester
and it is fun to feel, and share with Jeff and JR, all the commotion,
while being able to see my belly move up and down with every movement.

Friday night family dinners ~ a new tradition I look forward to!

I am allowed a few outings a week, and I chose to spend it family style;

eating out!

We usually frequent a favorite diner, but some Fridays we mix it up:

Indian, pizza, Afghan, Asian.

The rarity of the outings makes them more valuable,

and renders the act of "eating out" more of a tradition

than just a mere banality.

Showers ~ every third day, if I am lucky.
Unfortunately, I have to make choices and somehow showers always end up
on the bottom of the list. But when I do indulge in one,
all I can say is that it is a true indulgence.
I do not take any activity for granted anymore,
and I certainly do treat this one like a treasure.

Road trip ~ because it is well-deserved,

 and because both my OB and my specialist said I could go!

Of course I spent most of my time reclined in the car,

or being pushed around in the wheelchair,

or sitting in bed at the hotel,

but at least I got to spend one last vacation with

Jeff and JR before the newest member is physically among us.

The change in scenery was worth the effort it took to get there,

and the time we spent was precious in every way.

Next road trip, there will be four of us!

Lessons from Bed: the Wheelchair

Each year brings its own blessings and challenges.

Last year I was able to escort Jannah-Rae to most of the activities she was invited to, or that I arranged for her. Towards the end of this year, however, I had to relinquish my status as her primary companion and depend on the generous assistance and wonderful company of our loving friends and family. It was not easy giving up the upper hand nor was it fun to miss out on the activities that still went on around me. I was never one to sit beside the driver and yet I found myself being forced to sit back, relax, and watch as the world unraveled in front of my eyes and JR continued to discover the world around her without her Mama at her side.

God has chosen me for this role, I continue to learn valuable lessons as I recline on one couch, then the other, and move from there to the bed, and at times the wheelchair.

I learned that some people are inherently gracious and went out of their way to treat help us as they saw me being wheeled about, while others were just oblivious of the world around them and actually chose to get in through the other set of doors so as not to hold them open for Jeff and I.

I learned that asking for a four-top at a restaurant was okay if it meant I had somewhere to put my feet up and stretch them out.

I learned that accepting someone's offer to carry the extra tray was not a sign of weakness. And that help with shopping bags was a treat.

I learned that being physically "unable" did not make me "less" of a person. And that I did not have to apologise for my state of being.

I learned that not all customer service assistants were indifferent and that the lady behind the desk really meant it when she said, "I know you will get better soon."

I learned that while I so desperately wanted to go on each outing, each play date, each breakfast, and each carousel ride with JR, that it was alright for me to tell her I could not. Alright, but not easy. Alright, but still heart-breaking. Heart-breaking made worse when she says: "I wish you could come with me Mama," and my knowing that this is one wish I cannot grant her. Despite that, though, I learned that I can still be a good Mama, a great Mama even, even when I am stuck in bed. And that there are still numerous ways JR and I can learn, play, grow, connect, even in the confines of four walls.