10 Days In

I can hardly believe she's 10 days old already. James and I joke that one day we'll wake up and she will be going to kindergarten, start driving, and then telling us she's having her own children. We jest, but we have also seen enough of life to know it really does go by that fast.

We're spending as much time together as we can. Austen and I especially are learning each other: I look out for her preferences, her personality -- I laugh at the way she squints her eyes, shaking her head furiously and fixating on the source of her food before widening her mouth and diving in for mama's milk. James calls her my "boobie piranha." I love the way she notices herself in the mirror next to her changing table, and the way she "talks," pumping her arms and legs when lying in front of the unshaded window.

I'm surprised at just how much I find myself sitting and resting in the present moment -- not concerning myself with the dishes in the sink, the unmade bed, or the other household things that are waiting to be done. And how could I not? These moments will never happen again.

Soaking it all in -- every milk-drunk, loving, mundane moment.

Baby Pictures

I'm still working on composing the birth story (and taking care of the little munchkin to whom I gave birth), so I don't have many words for you today. But I do have pictures and with a baby this sweet and adorable, I'm guessing that's worth at least as much.

So enjoy!

(All photos taken at 5 days old)

As the three of us were lying in bed together, I started to weep. "Everything that matters to me is right here."

And so it is.

Welcome to the World

Most of you already know, but I'm announcing it in this space for the first time: she's here, and she's perfect. She looks so much like her big brother.

Austen Brielle Petermann
Born January 18, 2012 @ 12:19 pm
9 lbs 8 oz, 21.5 inches

Sometime in the coming days, I will chronicle the birth story -- a birth that was more beautiful and perfect than I could have planned or expected.

We're exhausted, overwhelmed, and so deeply in love. And like anyone with a teeny tiny new one in the family, we're working hard at getting adjusted to life together.

Welcome to the world, little one.

Someday Becomes Reality (A Word from Auntie Kaari)

Kirsten and I (circa 1984)

Kirsten and I (circa 2011)

We all had dreams when we were younger. We would dream of growing up into someone of 

substance, like a doctor or a firefighter.  We would fantasize of becoming famous through our impressive dance moves or our melodic talent.  Or we simple dream of getting married and raising a family.  Now that we are older and some of those dreams seem silly or unattainable now, we hold fast to what was, what could be, and what is yet to come. 

We lose hold of those dreams, barely believing they existed.  They seem to only exist in a world of imagination.  Or we put them into practice everyday we wake.  I was never a child that had lofty dreams of being anything specific.  I had ideas of what I imagined my life would be like, assuming things like marriage, career, and a family would be possible.  I went to college almost to fulfill the expectation that this is what you do post K-12 education, it was expected.  Never believing that I wouldn't fulfill my unspecified dreams by the time I graduated.  Cap and gown came and went.  College diploma in hand.  I awoke to find nothing different, nothing changed. I still search for my dreams.

Now Kirsten on the other hand was a girl who would not be ignored or unnoticed, no matter what she did.  She colored the walls with crayons, she taught herself to read, never lacking in her tenaciousness for anything that she did.  Never knowing what she was to say or do next.  Sound familiar?  Always an overachiever, perfect was never perfect enough.  I mean just ask her about her A- grade in physical education that kept her from a perfect grade point average and you could begin to see what I know about my sister.

She strives for perfection in every aspect of her life.  From her writing to her photography to preparing her home for this new life.  It keeps her striving to be better every day.  Man alive, I wish I had an ounce of that passion some days.  Most days I shrug and think, good enough.  Now she strives for something different, some call it a higher calling.  She strives to be a good mother.  

You all know the story, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this now would you?  You gathered in prayer when death became more powerful than life. You didn't sleep when surgeons held a tiny heart in their hands.  You cried tears over an empty nursery, only wishing you could do more.  And now you wait as a new life is about to come to be.  You wait patiently and anxiously of word of new beginnings  And so Kirsten strives for perfection in these moments.  So don't be discouraged if you don't see a post in Team Ewan or a status update for a while, moments like these are precious and to be protected. 

So I take it upon myself as Auntie Kaari to protect these dreams of Kirsten and James as they were my own.  Be comforted in the fact that they appreciate all those words of encouragement, wonderful prayers, and your continual support as you wait to hear word of Austen's arrival. And when the time is perfect and their dreams are finally soaking in as reality, then you will made known to a dream finally realized.

The Belly Report :: 40 Weeks Pregnant

I toyed with the idea of renaming this particular installment in the belly series. The "Why the Heck Am I Still Pregnant?" Report. The "So Help Me, This Better Be the Last Post in This Series" Report.

Beware, a highly sensitive and hormonal pregnant lady is writing this post! There. You have been warned.

40 weeks pregnant. This is as much of a smile as I could muster!

I have to admit that as much as I've loved being pregnant and being able to provide my child with a protective and nurturing place to live and grow these past nine months, I have learned deep empathy with those pregnant ladies who I often heard lament that they were "so ready to be done" -- something that, for a variety of reasons that I'm sure are obvious, I hated hearing when I was pregnant with Ewan. I've been in tears more than once this week, hoping every minute of every day that all this season of anticipation would draw to a close and give way to the reality I've been dreaming of since we saw that first positive pregnancy test back in early May -- you know, the one where I'm holding a perfectly healthy baby and no one is coming to take her away.

On top of feeling this way, I feel guilty for feeling this way. I know plenty of moms who would have loved to carry children to full term, only to find themselves delivering their babies early due to circumstances entirely outside their control. Objectively, I recognize that I'm still pregnant precisely because it's in the best interests of the child developing inside. While Ewan did make his entrance at the earlier end of full term (37 weeks + 4 days), I believe it's because my body recognized it was going to be safer for him on the outside than the inside: I had been dealing with an extremely elevated level of stress for weeks on end. As hard as it is to think about, it got to the point where it was clearly going to be better for him to be born than to spend additional days and weeks inside me. So if anything, this teaches me to trust the hidden wisdom in all of this -- that I can trust the process, that I can do what I can to make things move along, but that this baby will be born when it's the best time.

My one comfort is that even when it feels like I'm going to be writing the Belly Report at 58 weeks pregnant, no one is meant to be pregnant forever. Pregnancy is a season that is meant to come to a close. It's just incredibly unfortunate that the emotional and physical readiness for the end of that season doesn't coincide more closely!

I feel huge, am incredibly hormonal, and in some hormone-induced twisted logic that only the brain of a woman this pregnant could muster, I feel like I'm disappointing and failing the other people waiting for her, too. I have enough logic left in my head to know that this most certainly isn't the case and that if I did have any real control over the matter, this baby would be out by now -- but when you're 40 weeks pregnant, incredibly sleep deprived (I kind of want to hurt people when they tell me to get "plenty of rest" -- dear Lord! I would if I could!), subject to hormones, and wanting finally to hold that little love in your arms, it all kind of makes sense.

Sigh. The good news is that things are still progressing normally and our little Austen girl is still at it doing her kung fu kicks. I kid you not, she's EVERY bit as active as she has been. And yes, there are yet MORE signs from my last appointment (this past Monday) that labor is around the corner (a slightly elevated BP, 2 pounds of weight loss, the belly has definitely dropped, and some others that I have the decency not publish on the internet). Yeay!! I've gotten probably one really good night of sleep in the past two weeks -- it's been so difficult to get much in the way of restful sleep at all (even naps) because of my size, Austen's activity level, and all that.

Not to be all Pollyanna about it, but this is what I've tried reminding myself: Every day that I'm still pregnant is one day closer to the day that she's finally born and in my arms.

Bah. I wish that made it easier!

I'm ready to write the Baby Report now. Whenever you're ready, Austen. Today would be a great day for me!! :o)