.jpg)
Another long overdue post
It's hard to believe that we are fully into the second trimester (week 17) of this pregnancy! Even harder to believe that we made it through 2020 and are already halfway through January of 2021.
These past few weeks have been such a turn for the better when it comes to the pregnancy. No more nausea (thank GOD I don't have to become close friends with the toilet anymore) and smell sensitivity has subsided. I have traded that in for what I call the "hormonal phase" - one full of unexpected exasperated feelings of, well... whatever I'm feeling. This past weekend, I was with James at Costco picking out fruit and vegetables. When I turned around, I couldn't find him even after roaming the aisles with a large bag of oranges, spinach, and cherries. After calling and texting him with no response, I literally set all my items down and felt SO abandoned and helpless (talk about dramatic right?!). My emotions started flowing, tears almost swelled up, and when I finally saw James, boy did I let him know he was to never leave me again... :)
The belly bump is now in the awkward stage of not-quite-there-yet but starting to present itself. It's the equivalent of a food baby after a large burrito. Pants are starting to feel a little tighter and I cannot wait for dress season when a one-piece can make you look effortlessly chic. In all honesty though, no one is dressing up these days. I've certainly been living in sweats 24/7 - only cycling through sweaters when I know my daily virtual calls are with the same folks (don't judge!).
The area of biggest struggle for me right now is thinking about our housing situation. We've casually talked about moving for the past 2 years and I've probably checked Redfin more religiously than most check social media. However, without any true forcing function, we've settled into a routine and have been reaping the benefits of lower-than-market-value rent. But now... there's a ticking time clock to move out of our 1-bedroom apartment and it's all that is on my mind. Every. Single. Day.
We've been diligently searching, comparing comps, driving neighborhoods, meeting our agent for showings, putting in (unaccepted) offers - the whole nine. And boy have we been praying about this as it weighs so heavy. I've probably cried out of frustration and desperation no less than one time a week. This season has surfaced so many deeper insecurities and weaknesses in a good way that beckons change. Change in me and change in the faith I claim to have.
My thoughts run wild between "we can do this, be patient" to "we really messed up with our timing and should have done things in order - house THEN baby" to "what does faith even mean because a house isn't going to magically fall into our lap" to "is this a sign to get out of the Bay Area/California while we can" and everything in between. I'm still trying to figure out what it means to believe in His providence, even when the plan ahead is hard to see; still learning how to discern the fine line between faith with action and forceful action.
Which leads me to what I believe is my word of the year. Faith.
It sounds so simple and so commonplace, especially in the Christian culture. But to be honest, I feel like I've mostly breezed through life without needing much of it in the truest sense. As an enneagram type 3, my achieving nature has, for the most part, yielded fairly good results but that's just it. Life doesn't work that way. Motherhood most definitely won't and I'm bracing myself.
---
Looking at the country around us, I've been thinking a lot about my fears of raising a child in this climate. God only knows what the world will look like when he is older. It's disheartening on so many accounts and while I would be delighted for him to be a revolutionary leader, my heart has been pondering how to instill character and value. How to raise someone who isn't shy to speak truth or afraid to act in moments of injustice. How to raise someone who seeks compassion just as highly as intelligence and who dares to set lofty dreams with a humble and grounded reality.
Reading all the baby books - what to buy, how to prepare for birth, the dos and don'ts post delivery - none have a manual on the above. All I know is that he will be fiercely loved.
---
James is still rockstar husband of the decade. I hope our son grows up to be like him.