2 months (or so)

I'm slacking.

I've got the whole "two kids, don't shower, just keep moving" thing down again but blogging nor picture taking rarely makes its way onto my to-do list.

Kissing on sweet cheeks does
Listening to made up stories does
Discovering new smiley dimples does
Painting pink toes does
Braiding slowly growing hair does
Hearing early morning coos does
Holding soft hands does
Watching confident swimmers does
Cuddling snugly sons does
Feeling bedtime nostalgia does
Thanking God for simplicity does

This summer is flying by. Beck went recently to his 2 month check up and all is well (ish). His spitting up combined with his lack of big weight gain had us at the hospital to rule out pyloric stenosis. That was a wee bit nerve racking but all is clear and Beck continues to be the happiest and most contented kid out there...our days are spent smiling, then spitting, then smiling, then spitting and so on...we go back at 3 months to re-check weight.

He weighed in at 9lbs 12 oz and 23 inches long. He eats a 4 or 5 oz bottle every 4 hours though I'm certain he spits a good portion back up. He is currently sleeping a solid and consistent 8 or 9 hours at night and has a routine of bottle, play then nap that cycles through the day. He prefers to nap in the midst of activity but that's no surprise as he has spent the last two months doing anything and everything that Linley does.

And the boy laughs...

There is no sweeter sound that a baby who laughs and there is no sweeter face than the baby who wonders where that sound came from.

He lights up with Linley around and has been known to fight napping for me only to fall asleep in Linleys arms as she successfully transfers him to his crib. He loves to sleep on his tummy but not at night. He loves his pacifier but not when going to bed at night. And he loves have a blanket up to his cheek and fiddling in his hand as he drifts off...just like his sisters.

Still a joy. Still thankful.

...and here's to 9 more years.

9 years of marriage

8 pack it all up and moves

7 pets of varying types

6 vehicles plus a work truck

5 months spent separated

4 months spent renovating a home

3 children born in Gods timing

2 years spent battling cancer

1 death of a sweet daughter

1/2 (+ a little bit) of a bachelors degree for the Mr.

Here's to the first 9 years. You've driven me nuts and you've calmed my fears. You've hurt me and you've healed me. You watched me bring our children into the world and you help me hold one as she left this world. You've sold your belongings to make ends meet, hung 4729226 decorative things on the walls of our home and you rave about my cooking, only requesting I never make squash casserole again.


One shouldn't enter marriage assuming it shall be easy or simple. After 9 years of commitment to you, I am simply thankful that you are as damaged, sinful, flawed and broken as I am...and that God is the only reason we will continue together to walk a few steps forward and a few steps back in this marriage. Somehow we are growing and learning and perfecting this reliance on grace, God and each other...somehow, indeed.

Happy would be/should be 4th Birthday Piper.

I now call July 7th, Pipers "would be/should be" birthday. If she had survived the beast that is infantile leukemia and because truly, parents should not outlive their children.

She should be here.

And despite the throes of labor I clearly remember from July 7 in 2009, she is not and this is where the would be comes in. Remembering the day of her death was horrible but remembering the day of her birth is not.

Piper Jean was beautiful. And desired. And special in a million ways.

So to acknowledge her birthday is a mixed bag of emotions for me. There is the smile I get when I remember the feeling of holding my second daughter with relief and happiness. There is the pang of pain I feel when I see others who are allowed to age. There is the wistfulness that comes when I think of plans for Pre-K classes she should be a part of and size 4 dresses and the lock of very fair blonde hair that I still have from the last time she lost her hair.

Mainly there is a peace.

It's a peace that I have to consciously cling to. It cannot be frivolous. I cannot be flip in my fight to survive and thrive and live according to this loss God has brought us through. I have to deliberately and actively chose Joy and to chase peace and to trust Gods plan.

I wish Piper were here today. I wish she had never had to fight for her life and we could be unscathed as a family. Mostly I wish she had survived and I was resting up from planning a 4 year old little girls birthday party. I wish I knew what little 4 year old Piper would have liked and wanted. I wish I could have woken her up with balloons like we did for Linley and shopped for her favorite dinner to prepare...

But I cannot.

I had to settle for buying her favorite food, Strawberry Shortcake ice cream bars, and eating them in bed with Chad and Linley and Beck for breakfast. And talking about the girl we miss and loved and love still.

It's a frail substitute for holding Piper.

Even so, my sweet girl...

I will celebrate your birth each year, despite not having you to hold. Each year I will praise God that He gave us 2 years and 6 special months with you. Each year I will question Him and His plan and each year I will again, chose to cling to the promise that this life is fleeting and that you are waiting for me.

Happy would be/should be 4th birthday to my sweet Piper Jean.

One month

Ok. Lets be honest...

Beck is actually one month and a few days but I was slacking and missed the 6th of June, though I have no idea what I was doing...here's betting it involved my son and cuddles or my daughter and swimming.

That seems to cover my lovely days.

But back to Beck and this sweet milestones. He has proven himself the most contentedly happy baby I have ever birthed much less seen. He is happy in my arms, happy in the car, happy in his swing, happy in his bouncer, happy awake and happy asleep. He has given me a 6 hr stretch of sleep every night since we came home from the hospital and he eats 4 oz about every 4 hrs throughout the day. When Beck is awake he has the biggest and most alert blue eyes I have seen and he began giving us small smiles at about 3 weeks old...he will only truly cry when he is hungry and being forced to wait and even that cry actually sounds like "huh-uh, huh-uh, huh-uh" and makes me smile.

Physically, Beck was back up to his birth weight at 1 week old and had already almost put on an inch which leaves his super short parents scratching their heads. His hair remains strawberry blonde and his baby acne came and went blessedly quickly. And he has the sweetest little knees you ever could see.

Spitting up continues to be an issue and we are concerned that he will think his name is "Oh Beck" for all the times he hears us say that as we notice him spitting up. Yet again. It's crazy-ville, I tell you. But he is the happiest spitter and we are just trying out new positions, new formulas and new ideas as we hear of them.

So here is my firstborn son. Beck has been a joy to my weary soul since the moment I knew of his conception ...and he continues to sooth me. I'm thankful he is so happy as I am so happy to have had the honor of holding him here for this month and pray fervently for many more.

Thirty-two

Today is my birthday.

I am 32...

(Born in 1981, not 1881 like my sweetly confused eight year old thought.)

I spent a good part of today crying. Some happy tears. Some sad tears. Tears while driving. Tears while hiding in the bathroom. Tears while laying out my clothes. Tears were big today, yo.

I cried today because I couldn't help but compare this birthday with my thirtieth birthday. (I scarcely remember turning thirty-one much less living the past year) When I blogged about that date two years ago I was filled with optimism. I spoke of a cancer free almost two year old. I spoke of fixing my marriage. I spoke of knowing God more closely and gaining patience in my life. I spoke out through my writings of happiness and contentment and a future...I had big plans for being 30.

Unfortunately, thirty was not the year I found myself or rested in my optimism. Thirty was the year I almost died...the year that I fought with all I had in me for Pipers life. The year I just wanted to keep my little family afloat. The year I yearned for simplicity and the year that I held my second born daughter, beautiful and broken, as she died.

Thirty sucked in such a big way.

Thirty was without a doubt, the worst year I have lived and hopefully, will live.

And now two short years later I am beginning again to scratch my way to the surface. I have felt peace and I have felt a despair that would frighten the most staunchly faithful soul.

Often within moments of each other.

Of thirty-two I have no expectations.

I have a heart filled with joy after birthing the sweet boy I call Beck. I have a heart filed with thankfulness that God is continuing to allow me to raise and love my Linley. I have a heart filled with trust as I look to my husband and learn more about how to be the wife I need to be...irregardless.

I am learning. Two years after I had an overflow of wit and optimism I fear I am left a weary but upright woman. I feel every single one of my thirty-two years and I relish them each despite not remembering large chunks of a few of them.

I am thankful for them.

For each of these thirty-two years, I have lived and breathed and even, hurt. There is a quote I see floating around the Internet and it rings so true to me...

"do not regret growing older, it is a privilege denied to many." (unknown)

So I will grow older. Perhaps wiser. Always as faithfully and deliberately as I can muster up the strength for. And here's to you, thirty-two. Be kind to me...I'm only waiting to see how you unfold and I am thankful you've arrived.

Welcome, Jasper Beck Needham

...I am so very happy to hold you.

May 6, 2013 at 9:20pm, weighing 8.5 and measuring 21 inches long.

We are entirely smitten with his sweet temperament and big blue eyes. Beck prefers to be skin to skin with mommy and has the sleeping gig down pat...not so much with the breast feeding but we are working through that hopefully. He and Linley have already spent many moments staring into each others eyes, he adores having his cheeks stroked and has peed on his Daddy, not once but twice while having his diaper changed.

He is a perfect addition to this small little crew and we are thankful that Gods sovereignty placed him here.

40 weeks/9 months/my due date/may 3, 2013

That's today. And unless this little man sees fit to burst out of my womb within the next 45 minutes, he will "officially" be late. I'm ok with that since I do still feel pretty good and all my appointments are showing no concerns but even so, it sure would be nice to meet him.

Apparently, I currently have two speeds I am rolling with each day:

1) frantic cleaning/nesting

2) comatose napping

Neither are a joke either...my house constantly smells so fresh and so clean and the laundry is neatly folded in the appropriate drawers. The winter clothes have been replaced with summer attire, the gardens have been weeded, quick and ready to grab breakfasts have been cooked and are frozen, and I have quite a back up supply of all things household and personal care...just in case I go into labor quickly and Chad can't find Kroger while I am nursing this new son of mine and Linley finds herself without toothpaste.

And then when these cleaning/nesting spells are over, I lay down for a short rest and wake up, drooling beautifully, 3 hours later. And I am no napper, unless apparently I am pregnant then all previous likes and dislikes fly out the window.

Except for my love of cream cheese topped with red pepper jelly and eaten with club crackers...possibly in 10 minutes or less. Possibly. Very possible.

I feel quite ready.

Linley spends a lot of time talking to my womb and asking Beck to "please give mommy some contractions soon" and Chad kind of eyes me from the other side of the bed each time I attempt to roll over...I think it's safe to say I am frightening to him, though he hides it well when he tells me I am pretty.

He's done this a time or two before.

So we continue to wait. My next appointment is Monday afternoon and I wouldn't mind missing it for having had Beck or being in labor but I have a feeling I will be waddling in as planned.

He is coming so the details are all ok. I have prayed that he will be a contented little man and if his lack of desire to have more space is any indication, then I may have had an answer to prayer indeed.

I cannot wait to meet you son.