Welcome Ruby Elizabeth!

Ruby was born on Tuesday, July 1st at 6:21 pm.  7 lbs, 14 ounces, and 20 inches of strawberry blonde girl.  She was born in our guest room in a birthing tub on a crazy hot 97 degree day, after a fast and very intense labor.  For those impressed with a natural unmedicated birth, I will be the first to say that for much of the labor I definitely questioned that decision.

But, oh, am I happy now.

Cora has been quite a lovely big sister.  Although she seemed excited to talk about "Baby Ruby" when she was inside me, I often wondered if she just thought that we called my big belly a baby.  I wasn't sure how surprised she would see to finally meet this little sister we'd been telling her about face-to face.  But she surprised me by not acting too surprised at all.  She came running into the birthing room to check out her new sister.

Shhhhhh.



Getting a closer look.

The last couple days have had a couple ups and downs for Cora.  While she seems excited about Ruby, and wants to kiss her and touch her, we have to make sure to watch very closely, since she isn't very careful and can get a little bit rough.  She's also had a few outbursts that are likely related to the changes around here.

Ruby and I have been snuggled up in bed for the past three days, with Ruby demanding to nurse constantly, and Cora wanting to lay on me and "help."  

Cora was very excited to celebrate Ruby's birth day with a little party, complete with her favorite song, "Happy Birthday!" and its must-have accompaniment: cake.

She's still singing "Happy Birthday" over here.  She was very excited that Ruby gave her a Frozen coloring book.

Cuddling with Daddy and "holding" her sister.

Being a great helper and putting on Ruby's socks.

Some glimpses of our newest girl.

I expect she'll be giving this look to Cora quite a lot.

For now, we are taking some time to settle into this new family of four, cuddle in at home and actually get some time to rest, recover and get used to the newest member of our family.  So far the differences between Cora and Ruby's introductions have been fairly dramatic.  But there is no doubt that as we were with Miss Cora, we are indeed, in love.

I will share more of her birth story and my thoughts as I have time to process them.  In the meantime, I am going to continue enjoying my new baby girl.

Waiting

Today I read an achingly beautiful article, that like most things it seems these days, had me weeping.

I am at the tail end of this long, long pregnancy, at last.  While with Cora I did not yet feel ready when she surprised us by coming just after 37 weeks, now I am waiting, waiting, waiting. 

I am still a week shy of my due date, but already to a time when I thought I'd be snuggled in with my baby, not still noticing the daily expansion of my surprisingly round belly.

Each day I wake up wondering if it will be today.  And I go to bed at night, only to wake the next morning (and several times through the night) with the same thoughts.

To read this article today finally gave some shape to the way I've been feeling.  Moody and weepy, short-tempered and sentimental.  Impatient and still afraid...  Feeling incapable of doing anything of value, and still feeling an urgent need to cling to and appreciate the little moments that make up these days.

I am standing on the precipice of waiting for my life to change, yet again.  There really is no comparison for the changes that becoming a mother effects.  No other transition I have gone through that has shifted and formed me, or changed me down to my very being.  Yet here I am, about to become a mother again.  Is that really right?  Am I becoming a mother once again?  It feels like it to me.

I know what it is to be Cora's mother so far.  But what do I know about this new baby?  I know her sweet bumpy hiccups, soft kicks and long stretches.  I know that she likes to kick her big sister, and sometimes tries to hide when another hand tries to sneak in and feel her movements.  I know that she has been in there for what feels like eternity, and that carrying her has seemed to bring my life to a stand-still.  I've been to a large extent off my feet for about four months now, wondering how my body and my sanity would make it to the end.  I've been feeling so much guilt for not having the same energy for my Cora Bean, missing out on the spring and most of the summer, and staying inside watching way too much television.  It has felt so long and so lonely, and honestly, so very hard.

It's so hard to believe that this phase will soon come to an end.  And even harder to believe that a new phase will begin.

In the meantime, I find my moments of real joy in the snuggles that I get with my lovely little three-year old.  I climb into my bed in between bed-time and nap-time and she happily follows me in for the sweetest of embraces and a few giggles.  Those moments are what are carrying me through.

And there are those moments when I realize (although still in a kind of disbelief) that I will soon be creating new moments of a joy with an entirely new person, a person that I will somehow love as much as I love my Cora.

It's in those moments that I know that this waiting is worthwhile.

On Mother's Day... What Makes a Mom

On this Mother's Day, as I am given the rare sweet opportunity to sleep in until 8:30 and eat a beautiful breakfast made by my awesome husband, I am reflecting with love on the ones that make motherhood so special to me.

My own mumma, who is the best inspiration and one of the most incredible blessings in my life.

Photograph by Shon Taylor

To my sweet little girl Cora, who changed my life and made me a mama, too.  Being her mother is the hardest, and most exquisitely wonderful thing in my life.

Photograph by Owls Eye Photography

And to my new sweet little baby girl, for now so small and wiggly, who is slowing me down and turning my life into what feels like a long waiting game... I can't wait to welcome you into our lives.

Photograph by Owls Eye Photography

Happy Mother's Day.

To see the beautiful project by Megan at Owls Eye Photography, please see "What Makes a Mom."  Thank you Megan, for the gorgeous photographs!

The Missing Pieces

This Mother's Day weekend our little trio took a whirlwind trip to the beautiful Oregon Coast.  There's just something about the ocean. Something cleansing, something that somehow sweeps the cobwebs from my heart and inspires me.
 

We played on the beach, watched Cora point out the birds and dogs, roll around in (and periodically taste) the sand, and then grab our hands and "run" straight for the water again and again.  We laughed and played and had a great time.

This morning I took a solo walk on the beach, the air crisp and the wind blowing, the clouds filling the sky in a way that felt just like home.

Alone is not something I get to do much of, and it's something that feeds me.  It's something I have always needed, and something that I was afraid would change too much after I became a mother.   I walked the sand toward the craggy rocks, breathing the cool salt air, setting goals to work more "me" time into my life, and thinking of how much becoming a mother has transformed me.

A few weeks ago while watching a drama on TV, a scene where a mother's adult son passed away had me in almost a panic.  I could feel her anguish.  I could see Cora on that table, and the pain was unbearable. In that moment, for just a few seconds, I thought that if I could do it all over again there was no way I could handle it.  I felt that being a mother opened up way too much possibility for anguish; that the mere idea of losing Cora hurt so much that never becoming a mother sounded like a better alternative to that possibility.

According to my husband, Don Juan, sorceror and mentor to Carlos Castenada told of "seeing" peoples' souls.  He talked of being able to immediately identify parents, because they were inevitably missing parts of their selves; holes in their centers that their children had removed.

And it rings so true.  Apart from how much motherhood has redefined my days and my values and my perspectives, it is truly like Cora has taken a piece of my soul, one that I couldn't get back if I tried.  Losing a part of oneself like that is terrifying, yet is still the most exquisitely beautiful thing I have ever done. And so it is for us, as mothers. We live our lives, so changed... tethered to the souls that are parts of us, that have taken pieces of our selves, whether these lives are with us or not.

It's with those thoughts that I snuggled Cora in my arms tonight, and read her book after book after book.  Sometimes the days are hard, the struggles frustrating, the experience lonely.  But oh how I love this little child who has stolen my heart.