sunday thoughts

~~~I originally intended to post this yesterday, when the thought struck me 

to share some of what I've been mulling over lately, but our router was 

being weird, so here it is, a day late, but still a Sunday post in my mind. 

It's neither as comprehensive or as well-phrased as I might like, 

but trains of thought are elusive like that.~~~

Looking back, it seems like faith is something I've simply had in my life—a blessing I've been given to hold and share when I can. Not because it's never been challenged or tried, but because the challenges I've face have all served to bring the accompanying peace and quiet confident that I associate with my faith—that I know the Lord is conscious of me and my life, and He knows where I need to go and who I can become if I let Him lead me. This gift of faith has, and continues to sustain me through many ongoing trials where I cannot yet see my pathway clearly.

Tim has told me several times through the course of our marriage that he admires my ability to be calm in my faith and hope through hard things. I'm struggling to find that calm now. I'm beginning to realize how I have come to take this easy confidence for granted in myself, because impending parenthood is beginning to challenge it in a way entirely new to me.

I have been blessed with a blissfully easy pregnancy. At 34 weeks tomorrow, the list of "symptoms" I've experienced thus far isn't even long enough to be worthy of note. It's been so easy that I almost feel apologetic when I answer "feeling great!" to the proverbial "how are you doing?" It seems, though, that ever since hitting 32 weeks, my answer has been amended to "feeling great, aside from the growing general panic! ahahahhahahahaaaaa..."

Growing General Panic has become an official category in my mind where my anxieties and fears both stem from and are stored when I can wrangle them back down. Have I done enough to ensure her health as she develops in utero? Will I be able to handle labor? Will I feel that connection with her that all moms seem to fill with after birth? Am I doing enough to prepare for her now? Will I be able to identify and fill her needs—as an infant and beyond?

I wondered, initially, if these fears stemmed from "pregnancy brain" and all the hormonal changes that can make a pregnant woman feel like her mind belongs to someone else, but I've realized that it doesn't matter. If the periodically overwhelming panic stems from hormones, I can hope that it will ease some time after she's born, but it doesn't change that I'm feeling it now. It doesn't change that the fear of my own shortcomings and inadequacies threatens, more and more frequently, to eclipse my dependable faith and hope entirely.

Of course, I don't believe that I'm the only first-time mom to ever experience feelings of insecurity and anxiety, but there is the expectation that excitement is meant to build in equal measure, right?

I can hear my mother in my head now. "Everything is normal, and nothing is normal."

Growing General Panic comes with the territory of doing something new, especially something as big and entirely life-changing as raising a family, and it's a prime opportunity for Satan to sneak in and deepen normal worries into something crippling that leaves little room for faith. I'm finding that my faith isn't quite holdings its own ground the way I'm used to, and that adds to the fear—a cycle that makes me seriously wonder if postpartum depression might be a part of this experience for me. So I find myself clutching at those things I still know, that this cloud hasn't covered yet, to anchor myself against the panic that Satan will so willingly use to undermine me and my family.

• I know that this feisty little mango is meant to come to our family now—that she has been waiting to come.
• I know that I am, on my own, unequal to this new responsibility. But I also know that the Lord has made me equal to each challenge I've faced before, and He will do so again as long as I do my part. I also have a wonderful husband by my side.
• I know that, in providing the opportunity for this daughter to enter mortality, I am an active participant in forwarding the Plan of Salvation in a way that uniquely connects me [and all other mothers] to the Savior.
• I know that the Lord has a vested interest in seeing me succeed in this endeavor.
• And I know that Satan has a vested interest in seeing me fail.

Only so much confidence in life, especially parenting, can come from our own preparation [though preparation is very important]. I had a dream, before I was even pregnant, that I was in a hospital being handed a baby that I suddenly realized I had not prepared for in any way. When I woke, I could find humor in the lingering sense of panic because I was sure that, whenever I had my first child, I would prepare and surely be more confident upon their arrival. Well, we've been preparing. I've read books and articles, taken a class, and consulted with mothers who've walked this road before me. And a few nights ago I realized that the panic I felt in that dream months ago is still as strong now.

Tim, wonderfully perceptive man that he is, could tell something was up. In talking to him, I was reminded that I have a companion who can support and bring hope in turn when I'm struggling to supply it. He told me the same things I've told him dozens of times, and even though I recognized them, having someone else say them helps. The worries are still there, and I don't expect them to ever really go away, but the faith and confidence that are harder to find right now are bolstered by his confidence in me.

A young woman performed this song in our sacrament meeting yesterday, which proved to be perfect timing for me. It's obvious to say that the challenge of raising children qualifies as a test by which we learn and grow, but I think perhaps a bigger test, and one less visible, is that of faith generally. I'm going to be looking for ways back to the calm confidence I'm used to finding in myself, despite not knowing the way, but in the meantime, I'll take comfort in this reminder that being tested is what I'm here for, and I can succeed.

when you give your husband your camera...

We're finally catching a break from the cyclical-snow-storm that was January, and I'm loving the sunshine, even if it means putting up with worse inversion for a while. It's nice to remember that the sun is staying up longer these days, I just haven't been able to see it for the clouds in what feels like weeks.

A while ago, my mother, in good humor, asked me why Tim doesn't take any of my bump photos. The real reason, of course, is that I'm generally not out of pajamas until after he leaves for work. This came to mind again a week ago Sunday, when I was feeling rather happy with my outfit, so I asked Tim if he'd take a picture or two for me since we don't own a full-length mirror. Now I can tell my mother, in good humor, that I don't usually have Tim take pictures for me because this happens:

   

  

  

 

Is it just me, or do I look significantly shorter? I guess that happens when someone taller than you takes the picture, I'm just not used to it, haha. Honestly, I typically take my own pictures because I'm profoundly uncomfortable with being photographed by other people [there are parts of our teenage selves we never seem to quite outgrow]. Considering that, having Tim decide that he was in charge of a photo-shoot was actually really cute.

So much of this pregnancy has been stuff that only I can notice and track, so it's really fun for me to be getting to a point where he can be more immediately involved. Ex: he assembled a baby seat/swing a few weeks ago—his first official building task as a dad [and a picture I promised I wouldn't post online]. He has since also built a crib and is rather excited to procure a stroller so he can "play with it." Guys, he's going to be such a good dad.

Rolling along with the feel-good news [because I'm just straight-up avoiding most of the real-world news right now], I received verbal confirmation from our insurance company this morning that the hospital we originally intended to use is still covered as an in-network facility, contrary to what I was told a few weeks ago. This is such a massive relief, and I'll definitely be verifying with the hospital's billing department, but this totally made my day. Also, at my last doctor's appointment I was told that we'd be getting another ultrasound next time [not for any concerns]. I was only expecting to have our 11 and 20 week ultrasounds, so I'm super stoked to be able to see the Mango again before we officially meet her. She'll be 34 weeks for this one, so much bigger!

I know that I technically have most of March to get through before she's due, but I can already tell that February is going to be my "building panic" month. I'll be trying to wrap things up with work along with timing the planning and purchase of various items in anticipation of birth and the time following—as much as I enjoy planning and making lists, I'm not usually very efficient in my execution, so this will be fun.

Luckily, some of my potential stresses also offer silver-linings. During church this week, a Sumbeam [3-year-old] that I know of from taking roll but have never actually spoken to, crawled into my lap during the course of sharing time, happily chattering about a necklace or something. After a minute, she looked at me seriously, gently placed both hands on my stomach, and asked, "what's in here?" That just struck me as really funny. There's a baby in there, of course, but we don't know who, and we won't, not really, for a few more weeks, but probably years as we get to know her.

baaaack into the fray

It's another new year, you guys, and this is about how I feel at the moment. The last few weeks have been a really nice break from a lot of the madness, but everyone is clearly gearing up for another semester. With the Mango's arrival only 80 days from now [what? we hit 100 days on our anniversary last month, which I thought was kind of fun], I'm having a hard time getting myself excited for several of the projects I have ahead of me for the next few months. I suppose I must be nesting pretty hard because all I want to do is fix my house and obtain all the things! in preparation, but adulthood rarely lets you be so single-minded.

The first week back to work is always nuts, and today I think we finally put the worst of the mess behind us which is a great feeling. When it comes to my job I'm really a creature of habit, so the multiple wrenches and tangents that get thrown into my regular schedule at the start of a new semester tend to make me a bit grumpy, haha. The weather, of course, just made all of that more fun this week. We've had several snow storms in the last few days alone. It really feels like Mother Nature is making up for the relatively balmy winters we've had for the last two years. I'm sure the ski resorts and snow pack are loving it, and it is pretty, just a bit harrowing to travel in! Yesterday, when seeing Tim off to work, I saw one of our neighbors, a girl I believe to be in her late teens/early twenties, bolt out of her family's apartment in a flannel nightgown to run down to the edge of the sidewalk where she promptly crouched down and began playing with the fresh snow. Sometimes I have to remind myself to feel that kind of joy about winter again, but it's still there if I look.

My coworker who's also expecting will find out the gender of her baby next week, which is a really exciting thing about coming back to work. After a week or so off, it's funny to hear people remark on how big my bump is, although apparently it's still deemed too small by some. One of the office supervisors greeted me on Tuesday morning with a look of extreme concern and asked if "everything is okay" because I'm "still so tiny." I think if I'd been having a rougher pregnancy than I am, comments like that might bother me, but as it is I mostly find them amusing and endearing. I imagine it's easier to remember that a lot of what people choose to say to a pregnant lady comes from a place of caring when said pregnant lady doesn't feel like crap all the time.

6 months on the nose.

I've been able to identify Mango hiccups for the first time this week, and guys, in utero hiccups are hilarious. They also bring up my age-old question of what the crap even causes hiccups? She can't even breathe yet! It's a good thing that hiccups don't generally seem to bother infants, because it's going to be a while before I can teach her to hold her breath to get rid of them.

I had a dream, probably a month before I got pregnant, that I was in the hospital being handed a baby just after giving birth, and I had the sudden realization that I had no idea what to do. In the dream I was realizing for the first time that we had done nothing to prepare for a baby—we hadn't read any books/articles, prepped a nursery, gotten any supplies, anything. I can still remember the overwhelming feeling of panic and what am I supposed to do with this thing? that came with the dream, primarily because I still feel that way periodically now. I don't think any expectant mother gets through pregnancy without feeling some kind of anxiety/insecurity. Of all the things people purport to be a universal fact about pregnancy, I think this may be the only one that's true. No matter how much advice you read/receive and how much research you do, nothing can truly prepare you in advance for a completely new experience and pregnancy is definitely a new experience. Anxiety about the unknown drags me down at least a few times a week, so I've been working on little ways to cope with it. Thankfully, despite his own concerns, Tim has been amazing in all the little ways that help take the worst edge off of my stress, even as it spills into things non-pregnancy related. I am immeasurably grateful to have a husband who works so hard and tries to be attentive to my needs. Of the two of us, he's usually the easier one to read when something's freaking him out, so I know that learning my stress signals isn't easy for him, but he's hanging in there. And I'm finding that forcing myself to narrow my focus to the next few hours, the next few days, helps put everything back into a more manageable perspective when it feels like the future is too impossible. I imagine that's a strategy I'll probably want to hang onto once she's here too. 

life this week

 Just within the last month, I feel like the mango has really started pushing her way out. Near as I can tell, she's still upside-down, so I guess she's wanting some extra leg-room, and who can blame her? With the two of us as parents, I'm sure she's going to have some long legs of her own.

I should note that having an active baby banging around in your abdomen feels a lot like how I always assumed the transformation after drinking polyjuice potion would feel. As a final note on the baby-front: I've officially had my first run-in with someone touching my stomach without permission. It was bound to happen eventually, but I'm still reeling a bit from her logic. While talking to her, I unconsciously put my hand on my stomach and she immediately reached and put a hand on it as well saying, "Oh, can I touch it too, since you are?" Apparently, touching my own stomach in public grants permission for anyone in the vicinity to touch it as well. The things you learn when you're pregnant.

As a reader, I'm a total sucker for a romantic subplot, so I've read many a version. Because romantic plots have such a wide range of quality, often we remember bits of them for less-than-flattering reasons, but occasionally you find gems even within average or mediocre writing. A few months ago I read Under a Painted Sky by Stacey Lee. Now, I enjoyed this book as a casual, easy read that was fun but not anything really spectacular, especially in the romantic subplot department. Except for this one line that I can't get out of my head: "That boy would pick the seeds off a strawberry if you asked him to." Have you guys ever read a line that is just satisfying? Even in my favorite books, such instances are rare for me, and I think that it's a kind of magic that just happens sometimes—and this is one of those for me. The idea of someone picking seeds off a strawberry somehow captures a certain level of devotion/infatuation without being melodramatic. Of course, this scenario wouldn't work in all stories, but it was perfect for this Oregon Trail-era story, and now I'm semi-obsessed with finding similar ways to phrase descriptions of affection. The stupid ideas I've come up with in pursuit of this goal prove that writing that flows and feels simple can be a good indicator of how much work a writer put into their story and how in-tune they are with its characters. It's truly an art, guys, and can take your breath away completely by surprise in the same wonderful way.

Today marks the official end of the semester [because let's be honest, who has finals on a Friday?], and work has already fallen off which leaves me with much-needed time to catch up on scanning and other projects. In the last two weeks I've wrapped up the office Christmas party [the last time I'll have to plan that!], the inaugural pre-production semester of the Journal of Student Leadership, the publication and launch of Intersections,

check out that cover!

provided the final moral support for Tim to finish his last assignment for the last class of his associates degree [can I get an AMEN], and made a greater effort to be something resembling an adult by setting the ball in motion to actually schedule dentist and eye appointments for both of us. I'm not sure if it's the season or the pregnancy that's amplifying my brain's natural inclination to get stuck in a loop, but more often than not I've felt bogged down and buried by a laundry list of things that I should be doing/should have accomplished ages ago so listing completed ones out helps. Because, as Tim keeps reminding me, I do get a lot of things done, I just don't always feel like it. Maybe that's why I've had this song stuck in my head since yesterday, and why I added another sticky note with "I believe that tomorrow is stronger than yesterday" to my massive mirror collection.

There's a lot of stuff you learn during pregnancy that you can learn without being pregnant, but, for me, lessons like patience with yourself and a greater sense of perspective when it comes to priorities and stressers are being hammered home in a condensed-course format, haha.

of engagements and babies

In the last month or so, three of my coworkers have gotten engaged and another announced that she is also pregnant. I'm not sure what our office has been drinking, but whatever it is it's potent.

It's interesting for me to watch these newly engaged coworkers and think back to when that was me, over five and a half years ago. That's such a short time, in the scheme of things, but so much can change in just a few years that, most of the time, it feels like it's been forever [in a good way]. I find that I don't really know what to say to someone who's newly engaged aside from "congratulations" and "I'm so excited for you," because the whole of what they're about to embark upon is so much more than I can comment on. Five years of marriage have introduced me to the bare tip of this great iceberg, and everyone's experiences are so incredibly different, especially within the first few years. When experiences vary so widely, I feel rather unqualified to provide advice if it's solicited. One thing I know holds true for everyone is that, regardless of how long you've been married, you have to choose each other again every day, even if it's just in a small way.

"The door of history turns on small hinges, and so do people's lives." - Thomas S Monson

Change can be deceptive. Sometimes it feels like it comes all at once, with no warning and no build-up, but that's never really true. Even if we aren't party to the choices made and actions taken that lead to change, they're always there. Often we are party to those choices and actions, frequently they stem from us, though we may not consider or understand the consequences until those small things unfold into larger results. This is both worrisome and encouraging in the context of marriage, as well as prospective parenthood.

The mango, apparently suddenly unsatisfied with being curled in a tight ball at the bottom of my pelvis, has begun renovating her accommodations with a vengeance within the last week. Somehow, I doubt that it'll be difficult to get a good look at her heart during our follow-up ultrasound next week. Maternity pants will definitely need to be in the picture if I'm going to have any chance at enjoying all the goodies this Thursday. Speaking of, our new Home Teachers just delivered a huge pumpkin pie last night. I may or may not be headed home to eat that for dinner.

Before I go: for those who have asked about this, I've finally gotten my registry to a point where I feel it's shareable. For now, it can be viewed via this link: https://www.babylist.com/emily-loveless. This is, by no means, a comprehensive list, as experienced moms will quickly recognize. I'll probably be adding things as they occur to me in the weeks to come, so if you're one of those insanely generous people looking to help us out, don't feel restricted to what's currently there. To answer some frequently asked questions: we do not have a specific color scheme in mind for nursery or clothing items. I personally gravitate more towards greens and blues than I ever will toward pink, though, ironically, the one item of clothing we've purchased thus far is light pink with orange foxes on it, so who knows. I want to stress that this is not here as any sort of bid for attention or handouts. To be honest, asking people to purchase any of this for us makes me incredibly uncomfortable. But I recognize that we have a lot of generous people in our lives who, like my mother, show support by filling a need, and learning how to allow others to serve you can be just as important as learning how to serve those around you.

a little update regarding the little mango

At 20 weeks I feel like I'm finally starting to show, which means a shopping trip will be on my horizon soon. My mom expressed concern that I haven't already bought maternity clothing out of a desire to stay as slim as possible for as long as possible. Really, I just hate shopping. Like, really hate it. But this little girl, who has graduated from Raptor to Mango ever since I told Tim two weeks ago that that's about how big she was, is definitely going to need more room for the sake of both our comfort. 

my selfie skills are not developing as fast as the mango is

For those who have been asking, I'm hoping to have the registry up within the next week. I was originally aiming for last week, but stuff with the student journals has completely taken over my life these last two weeks. Between that and trying to sort through plethora of recommendations and "baby must-haves" to find out what we actually need, and find it for a reasonable price, my brain has been spinning. I have discovered a handy way to trick myself into feeling like babies cost less than I originally thought: look up the most high-end, fancy, tricked-out, over-the-top versions of things first, then discover more reasonably designed and moderately priced versions of those products. Tadda! A tiny piece of my fiscal sanity has been restored!

One rather timely friend sent me an early gift this week that I've been adoring for days. They're board books for children based on classic literature from a series called BabyLit. She sent a copy of Pride and Prejudice which is laid out as a counting primer. When I got to 10 I just about died laughing—pretty sure Tim thought I'd gone insane.

 

 There's also a copy of Les Mis that's a French primer, teaching basic terms and translating the small phrases that accompany each picture. This little girl is already guaranteed to be multi-lingual! I really enjoyed the pages with Marius, they quite capture the essence of my personal opinion of him.

 

This is seriously one of the best discoveries I've had in a long time, and I am fully on board with the idea of  gifting these to pregnant friends in the future!

Speaking of, I found out this week that my supervisor is also expecting—due in late May. It's going to be a very pregnant office, come spring! It's kind of fun to not be the only pregnant lady in the office, and it's been interesting to watch her and think about where I was two months ago. There are a lot of amusing similarities [hormonal rage is real, people], and some differences [she's been much sicker than I was]. I'm really blessed to be surrounded by so many women that fall all along the timeline from currently-expecting to established mothers of small herds of children. In a lot of ways, I am adrift from the female support I grew up just expecting to have access to, since I live across the country now, but having so many fabulous women in my life who are more than willing to be open and share their experiences and preferences has done a lot to mitigate that hole.

embracing enthusiasm, and other ramblings

Something I've learned about myself in the last few years is that I seem to have a hard time letting myself really get excited about things. I don't consider myself that much of a pessimist, and it isn't that I don't get excited about things, I just subconsciously hold myself back from fully engaging in the enthusiasm for some reason. I think about this periodically, and especially now with this pregnancy. I mean, if there is ever a time where I am allowed to be unabashedly enthusiastic it's while having the easiest pregnancy known to man, right?

With this in mind, I've been trying to make sure I'm more engaged with the little preparations I'm working on. But let's be honest, it's hard to be truly excited about something if it doesn't feel concrete, and in my experience, pregnancy didn't feel that concrete until I started feeling movement this last week. Now I feel like things are really rolling.

If I had known how long it would take before I started to
show at all I would have taken a "before" picture so you could
understand that this is showing for me.
I know it doesn't look like it,  but believe me, the raptor is in there.

I've discovered that time has a funny way of warping around pregnancy. All at once I feel like I have no time to learn about and decide on a million different things from the type of medical care I want to what baby stuff needs to be procured when, but also feeling like March is ages away and this little creature is still so small. I'm afraid that I might wind up giving Tim whiplash from my sudden changes in focus and stress, though I know at least some of that can be chalked up to hormones. As a side note: calf cramps. Why are these a thing at all, where to they get off happening in the middle of the night for no reason and hurting so badly that you wake up and then limp for the rest of the day, and why are they so commonly associated with pregnancy? Most physical changes and symptoms make sense, but that one has me completely stumped.

A week from today we'll finally find out what we're having, and I'm consciously working to embrace and feel the excitement that I can sense lurking below my surface. I can't say that I have any specific hopes; I'm just excited to have another ultrasound and get confirmation that everything's okay.

Of course, not everyone chooses to find out the gender of their children before they are born [I just learned recently that my mom didn't know for any of us until we arrived]. That's really a pretty cool way of doing things, and I can see how it might help some to focus on the blessing of each individual child regardless of traditional markers. For me, though, to develop attachment I need details, and I'm really looking forward to having this one in particular to help ground my growing understanding of this little one's personality.

In anticipation of this, I've started to shift my question from "who will you be" to "who are you?" As interesting as it can be to speculate on the first question, it also carries a measure of anxiety since I'll have a pretty heavy hand, at least initially, in the answer to it. Also, in this moment, the first question doesn't tell me as much. Children are not beings that we create from scratch, persons that we have complete power to mold however we choose. They are eternal beings. Parents have a vast degree of influence, true, but these little ones come to us already in possession of themselves. This raptor is new to me, but that doesn't make them new, and this is actually really encouraging for me to remember. It's easier for me to feel like I can connect, knowing that this spirit may be as old, or older than my own. Oddly, this comforts some of my anxieties about parenthood as well, because it gives me further direction. My responsibility of helping this child to become who they're supposed to be is more like archaeology than construction. All the pieces they need will already be there. We'll rediscover them together.