Perhaps a letter to you in on a public blog is a little strange or cliche. Maybe I should have written this letter on some pretty paper and tucked it away for you to find and read someday. But letters get lost, and the internet seems to have caught on enough that I can place this here for you to find someday and learn a little about how your Momma felt in the days before Baby Brother came around.
Right now you are playing with a puzzle on the floor while singing "Jesus Loves Me" (a song that your Aunt Jen taught you and that you insist be sung to you by Momma at bedtime,..while you sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star simultaneously). You are always singing, playing superheroes, begging for crackers, a snack which we rarely even buy, and telling us all who we should pretend to be. "You be Mommy Batman, I'm Henry Batman, and he's Daddy Batman." You are brave enough to slide down any and every slide, a recent development. You say things every single day that have us wondering how you even understand communication so well. When you cry, you cry hard until you "feel better now" and "get all of my sads out". Also to note, the way you have been calling me "Mom-Mom" lately. So cute. All of it is so heart-meltingly adorable that I sometimes can't even stand it.
But what really has me thinking and reminiscing is the firsts. There are some that were documented with a picture, some that were just documented in our memories, and some that have floated away into the sleep-deprived great beyond. They were all, and continue to be one of the most amazing things that I have ever witnessed. Seems a bit dramatic or overstated, I'm sure. I mean, did I expect you to never get any teeth or walk or experience ice cream or spontaneously tell me that you loved me? Yet, with each of your firsts, big and small, I feel so lucky to have witnessed them.
Sometimes it can be hard being the firstborn. Your daddy and I both know that, being firstborns ourselves. It's scary to dive in to the unknown, to be the one that wants to follow the rules, to be the one that carries the responsibility of leading the younger siblings. I'm sure our siblings would describe this more as being "bossy", and they might be right. Most of all? You have the responsibility of teaching your Daddy and I how to be parents. How to live for something other than ourselves and our immediate desires. You were the one that spent the first sleepless nights with us. You were the one we had to buckle in to that carseat for the first time. You are the one who has to deal with our constant questioning of ourselves in the midst of limit-setting and toddler meltdowns. Honestly? You have handled it all so beautifully. You have forgiven in an instant, ready to hug the parents that have just turned off your favorite show or said no more cupcakes.
I think that you are going to do a great job being a big brother, Sweet Boy. You are so empathetic and observant. You can communicate your feelings. You are brilliant. You are obedient. You are kind. You are oh-so funny. You wake up in a good mood and go to bed smiling.
It's ok if these next few months are hard for you. Learning to share your world with another person usually is. But you know what, Henry? We'll all hold hands as we laugh and cry and stress and experience joy as we welcome your brother in to our family. The same way that we've done all the other firsts.
This is just another first with you.
Mom-Mom and Daddy Batman
|That's a toothbrush, not a cigarette. In case the PJ's and splattered mirror weren't enough indication.|
When I was pregnant with Henry, I wrote several posts about my pregnancy experience. This time? Not so much. I blame the toddler and the fact that I cannot sit down at the computer without him sidling up and asking to "yook at pictures, Momma?" And they are all pictures of baby Henry, so I gladly oblige. We'll pretend that this update did not take me a week to write and that I am not now 37 weeks pregnant.
So here's a little update on pregnancy #2.
In the interest of honestly and vulnerability and even a little posterity: this pregnancy has not been nearly as magical as the first go around.
Yes, there are so many people that would LOVE to be sitting here (however uncomfortably) at 36 weeks pregnant. I do not take for granted this life that I carry inside of me and the fact that it came so easily to me. And yes, there are women who have morning sickness until the day that they give birth. And pregnant women on bedrest or who deal with high risk pregnancies.
I know that I am lucky. Like, really, really lucky and shouldn't complain at all. I know that.
But that doesn't change the fact that the nausea, sciatic pain, rib pain, moodiness, and exhaustion of this pregnancy have been a little hard on me. My memories of the first trimester revolve around me lying on the couch during the bitter winter trying my best to play with Henry while I alternated between wanting to cry, fall asleep, or throw up. I did the former two quite a bit, the latter not quite as much, thankfully.
The second trimester, that fun middle part was a lot of forgetting that I was pregnant because I was too busy taking care of a nearly-two-year-old and buying a house and solo parenting while my husband traveled for his job as a Student Pastor.
The third trimester is simultaneously zooming at the speed of light and dragging on. Not sure how that happens, but we are getting to the impatient point. Which is a shame, since we have just less than four weeks baby boy's due date. I'm pretty darn uncomfortable. I carry my babies HIGH and that means that anything but lying in bed involves a burning sensation in my ribs. If you know me in real life and see my with my hands resting on top of my belly, it's not so much a sweet gesture of relishing in my state (though I do love this boy so!) but more of an attempt to move this kid out of my ribcage.
BUT, in spite of all this I am working to treasure the kicks and hiccups. I haven't had any signs of labor or anything yet, so I am sitting tight and thinking he will be born close to his due date. I loved being pregnant and looked forward to being pregnant again, so I know that there are things I will really miss.
Had I actually finished writing this post when I started it, I would have said in bold, "I'M SCARED OF GIVING BIRTH, AGAIN."
Reading up on natural childbirth, practicing relaxation and breathing techniques, and giving myself some positive birth affirmation phrases to repeat and think on have been so helpful. Although we opted for a hospital birth again this time, I am stil planning on being extremely selective about what (if any) interventions are used. Remembering the euphoria of meeting Henry for the first time just over two years ago reminds me that this will be an experience that is stored in my soul for the rest of my life.
This could be my last pregnancy, and I know that I will miss the feeling of cradling this boy safely inside of my belly. It's fun to wonder if he will look just like his big brother or if he will look completely different. Revelling in the suspense and surprise is something to be enjoyed.
Yet we are ready. READY. Not ready as in things are done, our house is clean, our freezer well stocked, our bags packed. But ready to meet our precious newborn boy. I'm in a pretty good headspace when it comes to the idea of waiting. I know that once he is here, he will be HERE and have near-constant needs (the nerve!) and my life will start looking a whole lot different. Different in a hard, good way.
The thing that I am treasuring the most during the next few weeks of waiting is my time with Henry. Sweet, sweet, Henry. My firstborn. My little lovebug. He's been pulling away from me a little lately, which in some ways is good. He's clinging on to Daddy even more, which means my heart is usually to be found melted on the floor. I don't have any doubts about the fact that I am always his momma, and he knows and feels that. But there is a difference in the relationship that we share. It used to feel that he constantly needed me and now, that neediness for Momma just comes in bursts here and there. The scraped knee, the overtired bedtime, the strange situation. Pausing and reveling in those little arms around my neck, the two-hands-on-my-cheeks kisses and the whispers of, "One more minute, Momma" is one of the greatest joys of my life.
Also to note is the fact that I've reached the, "Ehhh, we've done enough to prepare" nesting stage. I don't know if I just am super lazy or unwilling to give up things like the last few weeks of napping when Henry does, but I have zero desire to clean baseboards, organize closets, or clean out the fridge. I'm still just as good at procrastinating as I was in college. Even to the point of thinking that I can just vacuum this or that during the early stages of labor. Yes, I know, bad idea.
There it is. The one and only time I've written anything about being pregnant with my second bundle of joy. And now? Let's just bring on the crazy ramblings of the momma of a newborn and a toddler!
And, perhaps most of all, ready for my ribs to NOT serve as a xylophone for baby feet.
Oh boy, do I ever need a heavy dose of intentionality in my life these days.
I described what I've been feeling to Tyler as "oppressive boredom mixed with constant overwhelm".
Sounds healthy, right?
Maybe if you are a stay-at-home momma you can relate to this. It's such a weird thing to have constant things to do at all times of the day and yet feel so...bored. I'm sure that anyone can feel these things at any job, of course.
So, my plan is to add a heavy dose of intentionality to my life.
- My marriage: often, Tyler and I just kind of go about our evenings on our own or watch some television or read. I know that we are both tired of this. I would consider our marriage strong and we love eachother so very much (I still can't believe that I somehow tricked Tyler into marrying me.) But, we want to be creative together, to have fun together, to work together.
- My parenting: I'll be honest, I work pretty dang hard at being a mom. If you're looking at time spent with my son (ok, both sons, since I am literally with the baby in my belly constantly), I could hardly spend any more time with them than I do. I'm not sure what intentionality will look like in this area. I know that it (for me) does NOT look like planning more toddler learning activities or anything. I'll explain this in a later post sometime.
- My hobbies: My...what? Besides reading, there isn't much hobbying going on around here. Often if feels as if in order to do anything "fun" I have to get all the "work" done first, and since I am a highly unmotivated person, I usually procrastinate with meaningless screentime and get neither fun nor work done. I like sewing, cooking, reading, writing. How about less facebook and more of those things?
- My relationships: Being brutally honest (in a totally public forum, probably not the best place to first say this out loud, but, ya know....) I don't feel like I have any close friends because I stink at keeping up with relationships. I have new friends, long time friends, lifetime friends, older friends, younger friends, all of them so wonderful. But if I'm having a hard day and need someone to talk to, often I just don't know who to call. I feel like reaching out would be a burden on someone or overstepping boundaries. If you are one of my oh-so-wonderful friends, you may be thinking that this is a big load of (overly-processed) baloney. Because it is. It's time to work hard at loving my friends and letting myself be loved by those friends. No more isolating myself out of inconvenience.
- My spiritual life: This one is the hardest one to put in to words. Basically, I need to add some reverence to my daily life with God. The prayers of thankfulness for the blessings in my life are often, but the confessions and thinking about and taking action on actual issues, not so much.
- My health: It's simple really: Move everyday. Eat lots of plants everyday. Breath fresh air everyday. Being eight months pregnant, a new exercise regimen isn't exactly on the list of things that could reasonably be accomplished, but simple things? I can do that.
Because that is more than enough rambling for today, the rest of my thoughts: what makes this time different? what am I implementing? what am I not concerned about (i.e. cleaning my bathrooms more than once a week)? will be for another post.
Sheesh, it feels so great getting all that honesty and vulnerability out there. No fancy staged picture, barely proof-read, and written during naptime.
Now tell me: how are you intentional in these areas of your life? Seriously...tell me.
By way of an update:
We're having another baby boy at the end of September.
We celebrated six years of marriage.
My husband is changing jobs.
We bought our first house.
Henry turned two.
So, not too much is new.
I do say that with some amount of sarcasm, but really it still feels like we are the same Tyler and Jess, just plugging along doing gradually more grown-up things all the time. We have felt closer than ever through all of these changes and the changes that are looming ahead.
Every single night I go to bed so incredibly thankful for the person that I married. I'm thankful that we are so well matched when making decisions (hemming and hawing over tiny insignificant decisions, but just jumping off the deep end on the big stuff).
We are so excited to welcome Baby #2. He is a long hoped-for addition to our family. Just based on the 20 week anatomy scan, it seems like he is going to be rambunctious and look nothing like his big brother. Two boys seems like plenty kids for the next long while, so we're also excited to feel that (for now) our family is complete.
As for the new house, the short story is: WE LOVE IT. It's smaller and much newer (only 45 years old!) than our last house. The historic church parsonage that we have called home for the past 4.5 years holds so many sweet memories. What bittersweet feelings as we gather our last few belongings from it. But, the thrill of choosing our own paint colors and having a deck are outweighing the sadness.
That's what the Tanks are up to right now. A whole lot of sleeping on air mattresses, sorting through cardboard boxes, feeling a baby boy rolling around in my belly at all hours, and lots and lots of playing Batman with our two year old little guy.
Christmas this year was so much fun. Here are a few lingering thoughts: