one month.

mckinley turned one month old yesterday.

i don't have adequate words for the feelings i experience every time i look at our daughter.

has it been one month already?

the only postpartum depression i've experienced is knowing that i have to go back to work. i'm not making light of postpartum depression, i'm being serious. i can't stand that i have to go to work and be away from my best girlfriend. we have a pretty good deal, though, and she'll be able to go to work with me for the first couple weeks i'm back. then daddy will be home with her during the winter because his job is seasonal. when he goes back to work in march, we'll have to figure something out, but i can't live in anticipation of that time. i have to enjoy this time, and be thankful for this day.

i should probably write out her birth story so i don't forget any details. and i need to tell you the story behind her name. but for now, i want to look at her while she sleeps on my lap. and i need to go fill up my cookie bowl.

*Very!* *First!* IV!!

It is so hard to believe that we are here! We have checked into our hospital room, which we are calling "the resort", and we are enjoying being together. You know what this means, right?

It means I'm not in labor yet. Otherwise I wouldn't be so jovial at 6:00 am.

My appointment yesterday showed everything being normal and good, except for my dilation. Not only was my cervix still completely closed, but it is "thick". This isn't a problem, only a roadblock to my girl.

Because my doctor and I decided that 41 weeks would be our cut-off date for this pregnancy, it was time to make a decision.

At 10pm, we arrived at the hospital, I received my *Very!* *First!* IV!! at the ripe young age of nearly 29, and a lovely dose of cervidil. And hospital ice - HOW COULD I FORGET THE HOSPITAL ICE! YUM.

Anyhow, the cervidil stays in for 12 hours, causing some cramping and thinning of the cervix. For some people, it will thin the cervix enough to break the bag of waters and for labor to begin. We're hopeful this is where we'll be at 11am today when they assess the situation.

If that is the case, and labor does not progress on it's own, we will start pitocin. Through my *Very!* *First!* IV!!
***** My childhood and adult fears of anything moving, fast, sharp, dangerous and overall not intended for children over age 12 has provided me with this being my first hospitalization since my own birth in 1981. This whole "IV" thing is new to me, as is the HOSPITAL ICE, OH EM GEE. I think I might stay here an extra day for the ice. Just kidding. Kinda.

Anyhow, if pitocin is needed (and likely will be), they will start that and we will wait. After reaching 4 cm, I will be allowed to transfer to the birthing tub if I wish, and that will help with the pain management.

But I'm not going to get that far ahead of myself. Right now, I'm hanging out with my husband, who is like a child on Christmas morning, as he keeps looking over to me from his chairbed, saying "We're having a baby!" and it is the most darling thing that makes me want to cry.

He even suggested we take a picture together to post on our Facebook accounts and I look like I've no makeup on (check) after a day of 120398 degree temps and humidity (check), and the trauma (not really) of my *Very!* *First!* IV!!

One day does not seem like a long time to invest to have our lives changed FOREVER.

Come on, little one! We're waiting for you! And they have really good ice out here!

A failure of all sorts.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

My shirt is soaking wet.

My makeup is streaked and my cheeks are flushed.

I cannot stop the tears that flow from a broken heart. A heart that loves more than I know what to do with, but is still so selfish and desires so much.

I cannot be 8 months pregnant and be the supportive wife of a man who just lost his father. The weight is too heavy and I am crumbling under the pressure.

I was mean and rude and demanding and accusatory and everything that I'd hoped I'd never be, especially when he needs me most.

But I failed him, as I always will, because I cannot do it on my own.

I need help. This is too hard.

***************

"Lord, please! I cannot keep doing this! I am falling apart."

I cry out to him as I drive, on my way home from the grocery store, where I've planned for the week and suffered the anxiety already of not being enough.

"Why do you only come to me when you are hurting? Why only when you need me?"

Drip.

"If you only spoke to Aaron when you needed him, how do you think your relationship would be?"

Drip.

"Talk to me all the time. I will help you."

"I can't stay focused. My mind wanders, I feel like I have too much to do."

"Let me help you."

Drip.

"Just, let me help you."

***************

Here I am. Asking for help. Only the help that you can give. I cannot do this on my own. I do not want to keep trying. I surrender.

Father's Day

Bittersweet doesn't exactly describe this Father's Day.

Aaron is going to be already such an amazing Father. (Remember this shopping trip?)

But he celebrates his first Father's Day without his Father. It's just so...

...I guess bittersweet is the only word I can think of.

Oh, my sweet Aaron. I love you so much. Tiny Dancer loves you so much. We are so proud of you for the man that you are and the Daddy that you're becoming.

My husband's heart.

I have so much I want to say, but the words are hard to come by. There are tears, and a few words. More tears, and a few more words.

My husband is hurting and I can’t make it go away. This is very difficult for me to accept, because I am a “fixer”. I like to make things better. I can’t make this better.

If asked of 50 people what Aaron’s best trait is, 48 of them would say he has a really big heart. The other 2 would say he is a bad mama-jama.

He loves to buy for people, or give to people from what we already have. If you needed a shirt, he would give you the one off his back, plus $20 to go buy matching sandals at TJMaxx. If you needed money for lunch, he would give you $20 for your lunch, plus the gift card in his wallet for Subway because “he doesn’t really like it anyhow”.

I LOVE my husband’s “big heart”.

The only problem?

His really big heart is capable of really big hurt.

Really. Big.

And right now, I could offer him all the TJMaxx gift cards in the world, or golf passes to the course where he would undoubtedly buy the person he was with a hot dog at “the turn” (I’m not a golfer. I don’t get this.), but it doesn’t matter. There isn’t anything I can give him or buy him or make for him that will make this any better. Or any less bad. Or anything other than the suck of the suckiest suck of the world.

But I have my love and I give it to him. I have my hands, so I make him sandwiches for his lunch. I have my voice, so I speak prayers on his behalf. (Not enough though. I'm working on this. Actually, God is working on me to work on this.)

I do not have much, but I am trying to give him all that I have. Because if the situation were reversed, I would own the TJMaxx chain, and we would eat at Olive Garden every day, even though he doesn’t really like it, and he would bring me Starbucks Iced Tea in bed and at work and in the middle of the night. Because he has a really, really big heart.

A heart that I love. With a really, really big love.

I wish it was enough. It's not right now. But one day, it will be. I just have to believe it. And wait. Just wait.

"... but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."
Isaiah 40:31 (New International Version)

I just don't know.

you keep coming here, probably to check to see how we're doing. i don't check my stats really ever, but i was curious. and it lifted my spirit, for this moment in time.

for an update? a story? reassurance? i don't know why i come here sometimes.

the update? we'll be okay.

the story? my father-in-law passed away of natural causes. his body was tired and his soul was weary. but we believe that his body has been made new and his soul is dancing before Jesus. there will always be a void in my husband's life, in our lives, because he is gone. BUT WE BELIEVE. we believe that the Bible is the word of God, and that God is who He says He is, and when we add 1 + 1, we get eternity. it's just that simple.

reassurance? we'll be okay. we have to. WE HAVE TO.

because we have a daughter joining our family sometime in the next 10-ish weeks and we just have to be okay. she will help us be okay.

i believe that God is who He says He is. i believe that he heals our broken hearts and makes it possible for us to press on each day, putting one foot in front of the other. i believe that He gives strength to the weary, and i'm praying each moment of each day that He is giving strength to my husband.

He Loves Her.

Friday Afternoon -

We walked into the store, he looked at me and said "We are NOT buying her all pink stuff, 'k?"

You wanna see what he picked?

Saturday night -

I walked in the door and he said "I didn't like our bedspread anymore. I bought a new one."

"What are you talking about?? We looked for that thing for 2 months! It's brand new!"

"I didn't like it anymore. I bought a new one. Go look."

(This is the bedspread we just bought. That was his trickery to get me to look at our bed. Sneaky.)

2 of Daddy's shopping trips, plus 3 pairs of shoes.


*I DIE*