I think about you everyday.
Don't worry, little one. We have not forgotten about you.
You have a sister who you will just adore. And she will adore you.
You have two dogs who are wagging their tails a little too much and they would love another buddy.
You have a soft bed and a room and everything you could ever need waiting for you.
But, more importantly, you have a mommy and daddy who love you deeply. And who have spent the last 8 months praying for you. We are coming for you, sweet baby. We are coming to Ethiopia someday.
The timing is God's. And as impatient as I can be and as anxious I feel about rushing the process, I know that the story that God is writing for YOUR life is one of beauty and grace and is better than anything I could ever try and write. So, I wait for His chapters to begin.
But, until then, born or unborn, girl or boy....we love you. we can't wait to bring you home.
Where you belong.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Spitting Up Through Your Nose and Pooping Up Your Back.
I have a daughter.
Let's just start right there. I am constantly in a state of thankfulness for her. Scott and I have waited. And prayed. And cried. And pleaded.
And here she is.
She is a gift. Truly a gift straight from God. She is my constant reminder that He loves. and that He cares. That He embodies grace. That He carries hope. That He doesn't forget.
She is beautiful. And so sweet. Her demeanor is so calm and so pleasant. She hums a sweet melody when she starts to fall asleep and has an amazing growl when she is getting comfortable. Sings and Growls already. She is like my very own tiny Adele.
So far, we have gone through more diapers and wipes than I thought humanly possible. She has pooped through outfits and onto towels and in the bathtub and all over my hand. She has peed through outfits right onto our 2 day old new bedding and on our couch. She has spit up and bypassed the burp rag right onto our carpeting and couch again. She wakes me up a few times every night because she is hungry, putting me into a new state of exhaustion. Exhaustion where I have unintentionally done the following:
*Tried plugging my phone charger into her arm.
*Ripped apart my pillowcase thinking that I had accidently swaddled her inside of it and was smothering her. (thus the new bedding...because, I literally ripped apart my pillowcase)
*Attempted burping her backwards...patting her tummy instead of her back.
*Used my hand to wipe her thinking that I, for some reason, had a glove on. And when I realized that there was no glove, turned the light on (with my poopy hand) to realize there was poop on both my hand and the lightswitch.
And, I have LOVED. EVERY. SECOND.
I LOVE a couch filled with stains. Ripped Bedding. Complete Exhaustion. Loads of Laundry. Abandoned housekeeping attempts. Dirty floors. Poop and Pee and Spit Up everywhere.
I LOVE IT. We LOVE it. We have waited so impatiently for this season in our lives to begin. And now that it is here, I am not only thankful for her tiny fingers and tiny toes but I am thankful for every late night feeding and for every sleepless night. Thankful for days that go by where nothing gets done in the house or outside of it. Thankful for crusty goo on many surfaces. Thankful for her cry. Thankful for my newfound ability to be late to everything I commit to. Thankful for a very smelly garage thanks to old hot diapers.
Emara Jane Zibell has changed my life. Going through what we went through had already put a huge conviction in my heart to not complain about the typical complaints that can come our way with the new venture of children. But, I have yet to have to force myself to hold onto that perspective. I am well aware that future parents are going to bed aching for what I get to experience. And, that alone, keeps my mouth shut and my heart content.
So, back to blogging I go. This time, with a tiny tot sleeping on my chest while I type one handed. But, don't worry, it won't be all sap and cheese. I do have a few bones to pick with moms everywhere. There are some very SIGNIFICANT things that occur during and after childbirth that nobody told me about. And, well, a little heads up would have helped ladies. At least it would have softened the blows of "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!?" and "WHAT THE HECK IS HAPPENING TO MY BODY?!?" and "WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL ME THAT I WOULD HAVE TO WRITE AN APOLOGY TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM FOR FLOODING THEIR ROOM WITH MY AMNIOTIC FLUID".
Oh yes. I will go there. Boys, you might want to stop reading for a bit. It could get a little graphic. I may use the word "leaking" a lot.
Ok, she is grunting now. And it's way too cute to do anything else now but stare at her. Dinner? I am working on hiring a few elves from Santa to take care of that tiny detail.
Peace out friends.
Let's just start right there. I am constantly in a state of thankfulness for her. Scott and I have waited. And prayed. And cried. And pleaded.
And here she is.
She is a gift. Truly a gift straight from God. She is my constant reminder that He loves. and that He cares. That He embodies grace. That He carries hope. That He doesn't forget.
She is beautiful. And so sweet. Her demeanor is so calm and so pleasant. She hums a sweet melody when she starts to fall asleep and has an amazing growl when she is getting comfortable. Sings and Growls already. She is like my very own tiny Adele.
So far, we have gone through more diapers and wipes than I thought humanly possible. She has pooped through outfits and onto towels and in the bathtub and all over my hand. She has peed through outfits right onto our 2 day old new bedding and on our couch. She has spit up and bypassed the burp rag right onto our carpeting and couch again. She wakes me up a few times every night because she is hungry, putting me into a new state of exhaustion. Exhaustion where I have unintentionally done the following:
*Tried plugging my phone charger into her arm.
*Ripped apart my pillowcase thinking that I had accidently swaddled her inside of it and was smothering her. (thus the new bedding...because, I literally ripped apart my pillowcase)
*Attempted burping her backwards...patting her tummy instead of her back.
*Used my hand to wipe her thinking that I, for some reason, had a glove on. And when I realized that there was no glove, turned the light on (with my poopy hand) to realize there was poop on both my hand and the lightswitch.
And, I have LOVED. EVERY. SECOND.
I LOVE a couch filled with stains. Ripped Bedding. Complete Exhaustion. Loads of Laundry. Abandoned housekeeping attempts. Dirty floors. Poop and Pee and Spit Up everywhere.
I LOVE IT. We LOVE it. We have waited so impatiently for this season in our lives to begin. And now that it is here, I am not only thankful for her tiny fingers and tiny toes but I am thankful for every late night feeding and for every sleepless night. Thankful for days that go by where nothing gets done in the house or outside of it. Thankful for crusty goo on many surfaces. Thankful for her cry. Thankful for my newfound ability to be late to everything I commit to. Thankful for a very smelly garage thanks to old hot diapers.
Emara Jane Zibell has changed my life. Going through what we went through had already put a huge conviction in my heart to not complain about the typical complaints that can come our way with the new venture of children. But, I have yet to have to force myself to hold onto that perspective. I am well aware that future parents are going to bed aching for what I get to experience. And, that alone, keeps my mouth shut and my heart content.
So, back to blogging I go. This time, with a tiny tot sleeping on my chest while I type one handed. But, don't worry, it won't be all sap and cheese. I do have a few bones to pick with moms everywhere. There are some very SIGNIFICANT things that occur during and after childbirth that nobody told me about. And, well, a little heads up would have helped ladies. At least it would have softened the blows of "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!?" and "WHAT THE HECK IS HAPPENING TO MY BODY?!?" and "WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL ME THAT I WOULD HAVE TO WRITE AN APOLOGY TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM FOR FLOODING THEIR ROOM WITH MY AMNIOTIC FLUID".
Oh yes. I will go there. Boys, you might want to stop reading for a bit. It could get a little graphic. I may use the word "leaking" a lot.
Ok, she is grunting now. And it's way too cute to do anything else now but stare at her. Dinner? I am working on hiring a few elves from Santa to take care of that tiny detail.
Peace out friends.
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