The best thing about the #samesex #marriage #equality #rights debate that gives me hope for our future is that there is a debate.God is pro choice. He gives us freedom to go against His will. @BarackObama is right on, love like God. #samesex #marriage #equality #rightsRT @CBNProducers: Big news: The Daytime Emmy Award nominations have been announced, and Superbook (Huang Jianming, Managing... http://t.co/XVWLFANoEmily has been sleeping so much better, and as a result, so have I. I think the colic is becoming a thing of the past. She really is a very sweet baby when she isn’t writhing in pain.
I took these pictures after she had her bottle and she was sitting cooing and smiling at us.
We have so many pictures of Emily, I’m going to need to get some more of Alex and Beth up. Soon.
“Hi beautiful!”
“I love it when you call me that Da Da.”
“Are you ready to go for a ride?”
“I love rides Da Da – where are we going?”
“To church”
It went something like that. :)
We visited Saint Luke’s Episcopal Church in Smithfield yesterday afternoon on a glorious fall day in Southern Virginia. We decided to take a short day trip becuase the weather was so nice and I was compelled to visit this old church.
I had been to this historic landmark before, in June of 2006, the year we lost our pregnancy and the year I hit bottom.
I had spent almost a week away by myself at a retreat center just down the road on the banks of the James River “trying to figure it out”. I was a little bit of a mess that summer. So much came crashing down in my life I decided it would be best to purposely dismantle the rest on my own.
It was a difficult time coming to terms with the loss of our baby, the effects of growing up in an alcoholic home, and the mess I had made in my own life because of it. As gut wrenching as it was to realize my role in all of the pain in my life and others around me, it was also a wonderful time with just me and my God. I let Him know what I thought about things and He let me know He was there. Stopping by this old church on the way back home from my retreat seemed the perfect place to transition back into reality. I wasn’t sure how I ended up there, but had the unmistakable sense that God was in it.
I guess that is the role of the church – to be a doorway to and from reality.
A place where heaven and earth mix, a place where truth and lies are set before you as clear as black and white.
A place where what is real and what might have been collide, sometimes with spectacular results. A place where you learn to trust that even though life is hard, you may screw things up with the ones you love, some things hold true.
God is the God of second chances, and God is always good.
On Sunday, Emily will be 2 months old. Technically, today she is 8 weeks old. I can’t believe it has gone by so fast! She is beginning to come out of the colic and has been sleeping a lot longer at night, which is great. I feel so much better with 6 hours of sleep than I did with 2 or 3!
My dear husband took these adorable pictures, and he also posted them on his blog, but I just love looking at them, so here they are again.
Emily looking thoughtful…
The Piglet outfit.
Goodnight! Time for bed!
Looks like we have made it through the colic of 08.
Thank.God.
Emily has been sleeping the night from about midnight to seven for the last three nights.
Thank.God.
She still has a fussy time in the afternoons, which can usually be cured by a bottle or car ride, but overall things are on the right path.
Thank you know who.
Much to my surprise I have actually enjoyed this time of my life in spite of the colic and formula woes. I guess when you reach the end of your thirties you gain perspective on the important things in life. Holding a fussy baby at three in the morning is much more important than functioning at work. Fussy babies need to be held, being coherent at work does not. There is not much you can do about any of it anyway, so you might as well enjoy the ride while you are on it.
To tell you the truth I will miss the middle of the night fussing just a little. I will miss the late night episodes of the X-Files and Northern Exposure. I will miss the moments of exasperation shared with my wife trying to figure out what we can do. I will miss the realization that sex is wonderful, but not necessary never mind, that is a realization that can wait until I am seventy.
Bottom line is I will miss the fussy time.
Just a little.
If I stop and really think about it, honestly assess my state of mind while in it, I may come to my senses and tell you different, but after seven hours of sleep one can convince oneself that it really wasn’t that bad.
Thank.God.
