7 weeks

My little girl is 7 weeks old today. Time has absolutely flown by. I have honestly enjoyed every moment...except maybe the one day that I couldn't get her to stop crying for more then about 15 minutes (of course when B came inside, she stopped for him). I have had moments of absolute joy...when I realize how amazing it is that I helped create this little person and watching her change, and times of sadness...when I see how quickly she is changing and realize that I'll never get the days back when she was this little tiny being so new to the world. She probably doesn't appreciate the camera I have stuck in her face many times a day, but my only regret so far has been that we didn't take enough pictures in the hospital and of her as an itty bitty thing. I don't want to miss any more changes.

I have spoken often on this blog about how I don't know what I am supposed to be doing with my life and how difficult it has been for me. These past weeks I have realized that I was meant to be something I never would have imagined. A mother.

She's Here!!

Hello my bloggy friends. I have not blogged in quite some time. The reason being for the most part that my little one arrived. She decided to make her appearance on March 13th at 3:58 am (they were sure close with my due date of March 14th!). My birthday was March 12th, and I spent pretty much the whole day (starting at 4:30 am) experiencing contractions. Quite the birthday! Princess P weighed in at 6lbs 7oz and was 18.5 inches long. Giving birth and the days following were probably one of the most amazing experiences of my life...I hope I never forget what I felt. Right now, B and I are enjoying time with P...he has 6 weeks off work, and that means that we are taking time together to get to know our little one. I will be back to blogging some time around then.

I'll leave you with a few pictures of our new addition...with whom I am totally in love. :)

With B in the hospital the day she was born

2 days old

Me and P, 4 days old

On B and my bed, making her favorite face. 7 days old.

Heaven is Lucky

I often get stuck on one thing that is happening in my life and let it worry me to no end. I obsess about it and let it consume a lot of my time and energy...and mostly I just worry with no real action or final resolution. Many times, my worry is over something trivial, but to me, it seems like the most important thing in the world. B often reminds me how lucky we are, and tells me that I need to give my life over to the Lord and trust that he will take care of me. I can't say I am good at that, or that I have really ever tried. Especially as I continue to struggle with my relationship with the Lord.

In the past week and a half, two amazing people that have touched my life have passed away. Actually, they passed away within a day of each other, but I only just found out about one today.

The first was an extremely intelligent, caring individual, who always had a smile on his face and strived to make the world a better place. I was lucky enough to work with him for a few years, and although we were not "close," knowing that he is no longer a part of this world is difficult for me. Such a wonderful, young soul, who cared about people.

The second was B and my vet. We had heard that he had been in a logging accident earlier in the month and often wondered how he was doing, but had not heard anything. Tonight, as I was browsing through our local newspaper online, I saw an obituary for him and my heart just sunk. We only started to go to this vet when we moved to our house a little less then 2 years ago, but he was a vet like none other. He truly cared not just for the animals he was working with, but the people who loved them. Although not young, like my former co-worker, his death is a blow, and our community has lost an extremely valuable asset.

It is times like these that I realize that B is right. We are very lucky, and what I am worrying about is nothing compared to what others in the world, or even that I know, are struggling with at this very moment. Many times, the things that I am worrying about are things that can be fixed or taken care of if I choose to take action. But the families of the two men that were recently lost? They can't change that.

One thing that these two men had in common (despite being loved and valued by many) was a love of the Lord. As B said about my co-worker, "He was a man who loved the Lord, and it was so obvious." And it truly was. And one thing I can say about the families and many of the close friends of these two men is that they too love the Lord, and despite their struggles, I know (through conversations with and comments by some of them) that they are continuing to have faith and believe, despite the very real difficult times ahead. It seems that every time I am at one of those points where the worrying consumes me, things happen that remind me that my worries are trivial. Sometimes I wonder how many times the Lord has to reach out and show me that I need to trust him before I will finally acknowledge that he will take care of me.

**sorry if this is a bit scattered. I have so much going through my head, I had a hard time organizing this post.

Fireball

*This image is from freedigitalphotos.net, taken by Carlos Porto

What B and I dislike the most about our house (besides the white carpet that covers every floor in the house) is the heating system. Every room has baseboard heat (very expensive to run) and we have a wood burner in our basement. In our effort to not have a $1000 electric bill, we only run the baseboard heat in the essential places...our bedroom and bathroom, the family room, and B's little room where he gets dressed in the morning for work. Beyond that, we try to keep the house warm by running the wood burner. The problem is, our wood burner is not easy to get going. We unfortunately have to cold start it most mornings, and if it doesn't get quite warm enough with the kindling before logs are put in, it never gets hot, or smoke escapes and we end up with a smokey house and the smoke detector going off.

As B works during the day, starting the fire is often left up to me. I had a good system going for a while, but we ran out of our old wood and the new wood we got just has NOT wanted to catch. I will try and try, by putting in kindling to get it to catch, and most days it will, but it takes a lot of patience on my part. B, on the other hand, when starting the fire, does not have patience. This year he decided he had had enough with waiting for everything to catch and get hot, so he started using kerosene on the logs to get them to catch quickly. I was not a fan of this from the start. 1) I do not like the smell of the kerosene...it gives me a headache and it just smells awful. 2) I could not help thinking that it was rather dangerous to be putting a flammable substance in the wood burner. I don't know how many times I told B that I didn't want him to use the kerosene, but, typical man, he didn't listen.

On Saturday, I didn't start the fire before B got home because our kindling had gotten wet and I had to let it dry out in the house. After he got home and did chores, he went downstairs with the kid who helps us around the farm to start the fire. After a few minutes, I hear a loud WHOOF and I can't help but think that the downstairs has blown up. I don't immediately go downstairs, for fear of what I will find, but when I hear them talking, I run down. I see B sitting on the ground, his hands to his face, and the boy laughing at him...I also see a lot of smoke...and smell the awful smell of burned hair. Turns out, B put a little too much kerosene in the wood burner, and in the process of trying to get the fire started, the fumes caught and out came a huge fireball, right at his face! It singed his eybrows, eyelashes and hair, and stung his face quite a bit, but he was otherwise unharmed. Luckily. And nothing else was damaged in the process either.

Had I not been so glad that no one was hurt, I would have loved to have said, "I told you so..."

Bet he hasn't learned his lesson though!
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And would you believe that yesterday, after I got a nice, HOT fire going, as we went to leave to celebrate my MIL's birthday, I shut up the wood burner, and the duct system (that leads to the chimney) fell apart? I don't know my own strength apparently! :) B had to put it back together so the whole house didn't fill with smoke. We are currently not going to use the wood burner for a few days...enough is enough. I really think we need to figure out a different way to heat our house...but unfortunately the way our house is laid out, a heating system will be hard to install. We'll figure it out one of these days...
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The swan did come back, shortly after I wrote my last post, stayed for a few days, and then left again of its own accord. Maybe one day it will come back again. But at least it didn't leave because I scared it off...
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I am officially 35 weeks pregnant...and finding it hard to believe. Can I just say that I have noticed myself becoming unbelievably moody? B and I had been talking about how I hadn't really had any mood swings that we hear so many people talk about during pregnancy, but in the last week, yikes. Here is my 35 week belly shot!

Slippery Fingers

One of the things I love most about living on our farm is that we are privileged to have a variety of wild animals come around, especially birds, which I love. They stay for a few days like the blue heron that frequents our pond every couple weeks or permanently, like these ducks that appeared out of the blue in September and never left (no idea what kind they are, but we now feed them) but there is never a shortage of them.

On Thursday, I walked outside to see this beautiful bird on the pond. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. I was pretty sure I had never seen a wild swan before, and actually thought I was probably mistaken, and that it was some weird goose. It had come in with a flock of geese after all. I tried to feed it some bread, but when the geese moved away because I got too close, so did the swan, so I didn't try again.

I was excited that the swan was still there on Friday, and again on Saturday. I figured that one day, the geese would decide to move on (they always do), and the swan would go with them. That day happened to be today. I was disappointed when I woke up and looked outside, but I had had a feeling they would leave soon since the weather was once again cold enough to make the pond freeze over.

But then this afternoon, when I went outside to do chores, I could see a white bird far out on the pond. I realized that the swan had come back, even though the geese had not. Boy, was I excited! I figured that I would try to give it some food since the pond was frozen over. I was secretly hoping that food would make it stay around longer. So, I took a cup of duck food, and walked slowly toward where it was sitting on the ice. When I got close enough that I could see it was starting to get uneasy, I stopped and threw out the food. Lo and behold, the cup the food was in slipped out of my hand as well...flew threw the air towards the swan, and landed with a crash on the ice, scaring the swan away. It took off with a squawk and flew until I couldn't see it anymore. :( All that is left on the pond now is some food, and a cup that I can't reach.

Although I'm doubtful it will come back after that fright, if it does, I'll keep my slippery fingers away. Maybe B can try bread.

Oh, the Life...

of a dog. It sure seems sooo rough!

5 years

As I was writing my last post, something struck me. It was this sentence in particular:

"I still struggle daily with many of the things that have happened to me over the last 5 years, and yet, I am still able to find joy and happiness in many parts of my life."

5 years. I have spent 5 years of my life grieving for my dad, for regretting things I did after he passed, for hating myself for the hurt I caused people I loved and holding grudges against people that hurt me.

5 years is a really long time to spend angry at oneself, angry at God, and angry at members of your family. And what I have come to realize in thinking about my life the last few weeks/months (been doing a lot of thinking since I found out I was pregnant), is that I've spent far too long in this rut. My anger and sadness have impacted my life in ways that I cannot possibly describe, and in ways that I never would have thought...and I let it continue to do so for far too long.

After my dad passed, I was a terrible mess. I was so terribly unhappy and haunted by what he had gone through and losing him that all I can remember doing during that time period is making trips to the farm on weekends and spending the week days in bed watching seasons of "Friends." I think I really just made my way through in a zombie-like state. I latched on to anything that brought me any form of "happiness," regardless of what it meant to those around me. There were some people that took advantage of this. And others who I hurt terribly in the process. I became a person I did not recognize, but could not find my way back to the person I once knew. Granted, that person would never be the same, but I could not even find some modicum of her in me, even though I wanted to.

Eventually, I worked my way through my grief...it was still there, of course, and I know it will always be there, but I was able to manage my life and function again with a halfway sense of normalcy. I did the best I could to right wrongs I had made...although I could not change them, and the people I hurt forgave me. Yet, I could not forgive myself, and I could not forgive the people that hurt me. I would think about things I did and cringe. I was ashamed and embarrassed.

There have been many times over the last few years as I struggled through a bad period of depression, and felt myself lack motivation and direction in life, that I wondered why? Why did I continue to feel so awful and why could I not pull myself out of the feeling that life just wasn't that enjoyable most of the time? I often let myself wallow in pity for myself, and I can't say it was fun. But even though I had a desire to change, I didn't really want to change. I have gotten better in the last year or so, but not to the point I should be at. And I have come to realize through my reflection, that unless I release my anger, shame and embarrassment, I will never fully get past those things that once happened. I need to forgive myself. I need to forgive the people that hurt me. I need to write a letter to my uncle and move past the hurt that is there. I need to move on and live in the present. The very wonderful present that God has blessed me with...my husband, the baby in my belly, our farm and our families. Yes, the past hurt. It will still hurt at times, but without those experiences, I wouldn't be where I am today. It is time to move on.

5 years is long enough to beat myself up for things that happened. 5 years is long enough to punish others for things they did to me. And starting today, I'm going to make the necessary steps to forgive myself and others. It won't be easy, but I'm going to stop living in the past and move forward.