Beth Morey's Blog, page 32

In Which I Think Deep Thoughts About Birth

I've been having feelings about Jacob's birth that I can't resolve.  There is something about that day that I can't figure out, that I keep coming back to.  Something that feels a lot more like the day that my daughter was born dead than I like to admit.

Here's how it went:

On Friday, September 28, I woke up around 5:00 AM to contractions that felt different from the ones I'd been having for weeks.  These were painful, made me stop and breathe deep.  I got up, timed the cont...

Holy Ground

I write this with the most precious boy in the world snuggled up in my arms. He giggles and gums in his sleep and I try to grab hold of this moment, his fleeting tiny-ness, knowing that it can't last, that it is already gone.

And I wonder -- how am I so blessed? To have him here, with us at long last, is pure treasure.

At first, I was afraid he would die, that he would slip away as quietly as his sister. I couldn't trust that he would breathe and keeping breathing if I stopped watching him and...

He's Here

     
He lights up my heart.

On Waiting

I vlogged!

Yes, there are a number of rookie mistakes here, but I had some thoughts that I was eager to share with you in a less painstaking manner than my dictation software allows, so -- here it is, my first-ever video blog!  I am excited to try it again, next time perhaps using a tripod.  ;)

Tell me -- what are your thoughts on waiting?  How do you wait well?

Beauty in the Broken [Arm]

Last week I broke my arm.

It was really scary.  And obviously it happened at a really bad time.  That was the second thing I thought after I fell and knew that something had broken -- that 36 weeks pregnant is an inopportune time to break one's arm.

The first thing I thought was "Is my baby was okay?" -- which he is, thank God.  The thought of the little guy was probably the only thing keeping me from passing out as I stumbled back to our house from the beginnings of an evening s...

Sex and Babyloss

When my husband and I drove away from the hospital where our daughter, Eve, was stillborn, empty armed and brokenhearted, the future felt like a wide open blank. I didn’t know what to expect – other than to expect to grieve.
I knew that not only did I need to grieve, but that I wanted to. When we arrived home without our baby girl, the phrase “silent as a tomb” became all too real of a description and I wanted to crumple to the floor in the empty silence and sob.
Only I couldn’t. I didn’t know...

Freedom

Today I went to church for the first time in a month, and it felt glorious.  Well, just about everything feels glorious since being allowed off bed rest permanently.  The freedom!  Cleaning the house has never been so much fun. 

At church, a couple of people commented that I do not seem very nervous or afraid, that I come off as calm and peaceful and happy. 

They are correct -- for the most part, the fear is gone.  But it isn't gone because there is no more risk. ...

In the Quiet

My little corner of the blogosphere -- it's been so quiet, hasn't it?

I don't feel bad about it, really.

Because it's what I need.  There is the huge, momentous thing about to happen -- our second child's birth -- and I need to be quiet.  My mind's eye has turned inward, at myself and at this precious little boy, and all of my energy is pouring into the watching, the waiting.

So I am quiet.

It is needed.

What am I doing in the quiet?

I am counting kicks, and contractions.  Jacob is c...

The Point of No Return

Earlier this week, I got taken off bed rest.  I have never so appreciated being able to go to Costco (my shopping nemesis) as when I was not allowed to.  Oh the glory of being mobile!

But the glory was short lived.  Yesterday, it was back to bed rest for me, thanks to the return of regular contractions, which have since disappeared with my re-relegation to the couch.

It's strange -- over the past few weeks, the threat of going into preterm labor never felt real.  Although I...

Visiting Cemeteries

A couple of weeks ago, before being put on bed rest, I visited a cemetery.  It's a military cemetery, I believe, small and intimate and ancient-feeling.  I have gone there before, because I find cemeteries peaceful, and because they help me to think more clearly about life and God and death.  But this time I went looking for something different.

I went looking for the babies.  The ones who died before birth, whose graves are marked by a single date, and the ones who died we...