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Showing posts from May, 2012
32 weeks! August is the size of a squash. We’ve been a bit busy, building our nest. Our nest meant for three.  And oh how we’re nesting .  As for your dad: Your carseat is in the car. Along with sunshades and a backseat mirror.  Your robe is hanging in the bathroom next to ours. Your little guitar has been broken in, and then some .  Your highchair is put together,  just in case you arrive a one year old, sitting up and ready for solid foods.    And he is preparing to spend his three day weekend putting together all of your toys.  As for me: I have perfected the folding of fitted sheets. I believe the only person in the world that can do this is my mom. I f olded every fitted sheet in the house. And I’ll say this new talent is sufficient enough to stand on its own. As for you: Your heartbeat is steady and good. Your kicks are strong and happy. You attract many conversations from our new neighbors. Thanks for that, I’m usually no good with small talk. You little icebreaker you. Oh
About a year ago, we found this little place & we signed a lease. And waited a long month to move in. During that month, Jared would often drive us by it. It didn’t even have to be on the way. M ost times it wasn’t . He wouldn’t say a word as he slowed up in front of this little place. We would look out the window and dream of being married, dream of living together. We’d smile and one of us would utter ‘i can’t wait’ and then we’d be on our way.  I remember in July, coming home from our honeymoon. We pulled into our driveway for the first time. Jared unlocked the door, picked me up, & carried me over our threshold. Kissed me and said ‘Welcome home, Mrs. Buchanan”. And the next few months were spent decorating and cozying up our little love haven. Our little home.  The little home that has been the backdrop of us learning how to be a husband and wife. The backdrop to my growing belly and our preparations for parenthood. Our time here felt so much like playing house, but I’m pre
31 weeks! August is the size of a pineapple. It’s Mother’s Day. A day that I was unsure if I’d be ready to be celebrated in. With you still in my belly, I didn’t know if it would be cheating or if I’d even feel like a mom. Because most days I don’t. I know once I see your face, Mother’s day will be everyday. Everyday of loving you, caring for you, needing you. And even though those things are already true of us, I’ve just got no idea how true. No idea. But this morning, I was given a small moment of motherhood. As I sang to Jesus during worship and felt you move, like you do, I experienced it. For just a second. August, I felt a little bit like your mom. With a nod from God, the nod that said:  Yep, Jenna Buchanan, you are a mom. Embrace it. Be unapologetically proud of it. It is who you are.  Sweet daughter, it is what was planned for you.   Any time I hear a message from God, it makes me feel big and small at the same time. Makes me feel strong and weak. Bold and shy. But this

Happy Birthday to you.

the man who tells me daily he is proud of how wonderfully I’m growing our baby.  the man who will jump at an instant to shave just so he can kiss me without prickle. the man who makes our house a home. the man who hates to see me cry but lets me because he knows it is important. the man who checks in constantly to make sure I’m well. the man who knows all the answers on Jeopardy. (…all the questions? I’m still not sure how that gameshow works.) the man who cares about style and never wants to clash with what I’m wearing. the man who held my hand under that umbrella two years ago and makes sure that hand never goes unheld. the man who is an excellent hugger. the man who serenades me with pretty much any instrument. the man who hasn’t stopped pursuing me since we met and I know he never will. the man who made me a wife and makes me want to be a better woman. Happy Birthday you amazing, sweet, handsome, funny, sensational man you.
30 weeks! Just a few things I want to remember about our time with you in my belly. Baby boy, you are a constant mover and shaker…and kicker and elbow-er.  Except, of course, the minute someone wants to feel you. You are still as a stone. I can almost hear you snicker in there.  I daydream often then I find my hand rubbing my belly.  You dreambaby you. Sometimes you get all wiggly like a critter, making my belly shake really fast.   You kick your Daddy when we snuggle. Letting him know that I’m all yours.  Tiny baby feet and hands use my ribs as monkey bars. At any hour during the night you are wide awake in there, reminding me that you are growing just fine, even while I’m asleep. My dad’s voice in my head at all times telling me to “ take it easy " and " relax” . Good advice, Pops! I try on everything in my closet and Jared stays as near as possible because he knows I’m destined to cry any minute. And oh how quick he is with encouragement, a kiss on my cheek, and one