No Power

This morning Rafi and I were laying in bed, both awake before the alarm went off with Cecilia having slept in her own bed all night, (an anomaly I assure you), and the air purifier clicked off.  Thus we discovered an hour without electricity at sunrise.  We went to get the girl and snuggled in bed explaining to Cecilia about not having power and fetched her a flashlight to play with.  As we made our way downstairs in the dark we lit the candles on the table.  While Rafi & Cecilia made scrambled eggs I loaded the dishwasher with yesterdays forgotten dirty dishes and remembered to just enjoy a life without electricity just for a few moments.

It was quieter.  The wind raced outside, but there were no street lights.  It made me feel fond for a simpler way of life, and I longed for a woodstove to heat water upon.  It found me daydreaming about a different place to live, a simpler home with less amenities, and more chores to keep me regular through my day.

But then the hum turned back on, the lights came on and I was glad to turn my computer on for the internet and the day's work ahead of me.

Patiently Anticipating

"February's your month" my midwives said to me.  February.  That's almost, basically now.  Everything sits in wait.  The contractions grow around my uterus.  The baby gets bigger.  I sleep, wake, sort, organize, tidy, cook.  Put a meal into the freezer whenever I can.  Organize a closet, a drawer, a surface.  Every action holds some weight, could this be the last chore I do?  Could this be the last time I watch the undulating baby inside me?  Could this be it?  Could it be now?

I continually ask these questions daily, but there is so much peace in their murmurings.  There is no rush to their voice.  I feel no sense of urgency, exasperation or trouble.  I simply feel patient and ready, curious and stable.  Mostly attempting to enjoy the day to day, the grace in the moments, and the need to slow down when my body says so.  I enjoy the humor in being unable to get up easily, or scooting to grab something that's rolled under the crib, laying on my belly and being surprised by how big and round and hard it is.  Then laughing at myself because in those moments, with help requested by Miss. Ce I had forgotten I was pregnant.  Just for a flash I was so caught up in my actions that the last 9 months of growth was simply under the crib with that spool of thread and my stomach didn't exist just for a moment.

The peace in this pregnancy is unlike that of my first.  It is so calm here in my mind right now.  A bit scattered, a bit distracted, a bit full of all the bits and pieces I want to find closure on before mystery babe's arrival; however I sit here ready.  And it feels nice; really, really nice.

Holding That Circle.

Enjoying the still moments.
Feeling the love.
Reminded of the support.
The Mama hands and The Grandmother Belly.
The intertwined fibers of us.
Our knowledge.
And thanks.
Remembering our wisdom.
Holding my peace.
Missing you.
Surrounded.

Carving

Feeling, watching and imagining our life with baby has been just that.  Our life with baby.  I've thought a lot of being overwhelmed with the care of my new little one and my older little one.  I've wondered how it can be possible that there's room for all four of us in my brain together.  I've thought about coping quite a bit.  I've considered locking myself in the bathroom for privacy.

As we get closer and closer to the arrival of this new family member I realize more and more how sacred this time is right now.  I consider how important it is for the three of us to be the three of us.  How we may all miss being The Hopkins 3 tremendously.  Because as soon as the first breath is breathed we will always be 4.  No matter the moment, our family will be incomplete unless all 4 of us are snuggled under one room, around one table, in one bed.  When I have adult children my heart will forever be stretched in 2 directions, watching them, waiting for them, missing them.

So here I sit, quite patiently awaiting the arrival of mystery babe just trying to enjoy these last weeks of our family just the way it is.  Holding on tight to who we are right now while we're waiting for our hearts to expand for our new baby.

Around Our Home.

It's surprisingly still this morning.  Bread rising and "birthday cake" being made by our little one.  Abandoned rocket ships and fish dinners strewn about the living room.  A little wiggler in my belly, filling me with hope, excitement and slight exhaustion.  Bits of breakfast waiting for the house guest of our family this morning.  All sorts of waiting, preparation and creation about these parts these days.  A cozy nest to settle into as the cold whips outside and the sunlight streams in.  Feeling thankful for these mornings when we're all under one roof together.

Winter Days

I guess we all get a bit stir crazy sometimes.  2.5 year olds included.

The Best of 2012

Discovering this baby belly.

A truly busy and exhausting summer.

Forgetting last winter away with the best of friends.

Holding hands with my husband for yet another year.

Watching our girl grow and grow and change and communicate.

Being a parent, with all the joys, the sadness and even the anger.

Understanding contentment and allowing it to roll off of me once again.

Feeling the pain and solace in grief and learning to find the celebrations as well.

Finding the littlest ways to be creative and make a home for the arts in my life once again.

Loving the slow and gradual changes of Eat Local Eastport and my role as a businesswoman.