13

On Sunday, Jo will cross the line that separates girls from young ladies. She will, officially, be 13.



I keep shaking my head in wonder, awed at the fact that the little girl who once refused to wear anything but Snow White costume to the grocery store is suddenly borrowing my t-shirts, loaning me hair bands, and asking if she can make brownies for dessert since she has nothing else to do.

There's a certain sense of the surreal, too, with a newborn baby girl in the house just as Jo teeters on the  edge of growing up. Seven is a very real reminder of all that we've already walked through with Jo, from the late night feedings to the obsession with horses, from the trimming of tiny fingernails to the countless rounds of "Chutes and Ladders." 

Jo and Atticus at Fair

I can't believe it's all in the past, that that part of parenting my very first little girl has already slipped by me. And how is it that the knowledge that I was there for all of it somehow make it seem all the more bittersweet? I listened as she learned to read. I taught her to knit. I held her hand at the orthodontist's office. I have been a constant in her life. And yet, the balance of time she has left when she will define herself as someone's daughter first and foremost is shifting. Our relationship is changing. 


She doesn't need me any less. I have to keep reminding myself of this as I see her balance so much more than I ever expected at this age. The peculiar thing about many homeschooled children is that they mature in terms of responsibility so much faster that their traditionally schooled peers, even as they lag behind in some of the more worldly aspects of life. Jo is clueless about most popular music and flavor-of-the-moment icons of her generation. It would never occur to her to ask for a cell phone or to "hang out" at a mall. But she runs a small, profitable rabbitry with a clear head and sets personal goals better than most adults I know. She is trustworthy, honest to a fault, and kind. These, I think, are the worthier things for a teen to pursue.


But yes, she needs me. My job is nowhere near done. Now is the time for coaching, encouraging, mentoring, refining. This is the season where I get to engage on a whole new level with the young lady my daughter is becoming. My Jo is turning 13. What a wonderful gift to celebrate!

Birth

I've had three beautiful, peaceful labors. Labors that left me glowing and feeling strong and empowered, even as I held my newborn for the very first time. Labors with little more than a shadowy memory of pain lingering in the background as I contemplate the hours spent bringing my babies into the world.


My labor with Seven was not one of those. Instead, it was the kind of labor that truly let me know why we use the word "labor" to start with. Birthing a baby is hard work, it turns out.


Seven was born just three hours and ten minutes after my ob/gyn broke my water to begin my official induction. It was a terribly long three hours and ten minutes. A terribly painful three hours and ten minutes. Three hours and ten minutes in which I finally folded and declared that while I'd been able to have three unmedicated deliveries in the past, I was no longer on board with the whole "natural childbirth" idea and would really, really like to meet the anesthesiologist. Alas, that was the time at which Seven chose to make her entrance. So ... make that four unmedicated deliveries--one under protest.

And yes, I'd do it again.


The moment of Seven's birth is blurry around the edges. Unlike my previous deliveries, where I was focused and alert and feeling every twinge of every moment, Seven arrived in the rush of an urge I couldn't control had I wanted to. No one was quite prepared; the doctor was out of the room, Mr. Blandings was at my ear, encouraging me that I was almost through, I was stretched out on the bed, praying that it would all be over. Then, suddenly, one gigantic red wave that I simply had to ride, and--

The nurse caught her as she rotated out of my body and onto the bed. Someone yelled, "Time? Time?" Through my absolute relief I realized Mr. Blandings was back by my ear, this time laughing and crying and telling me that we had a daughter.

She was gloriously pink and fuzzy haired and wide-eyed, looking for all the world as if she had somehow witnessed the entire breadth of human history before being born as an infant. She has been a quiet baby, a sleepy little thing content to nap and, on occasion, observe the goings on with interest. Nursing has been a challenge, and I've been grateful countless times that she's not my first and therefore I'm nowhere near as green and likely to give up. We've only heard her cry a handful of times, and each time it has been shocking to hear how small and dispassionate her wails are, as if she is only counting down the days until she can make requests in a more civilized manner. 

Every day, I have looked at my daughter and been amazed. Seven months ago, I was unable to comprehend what God's plan was in allowing this pregnancy. I was frightened, anxious, and unable to rejoice in large part due to my lack of faith. I remember seeing that tiny, flickering heartbeat for the first time, and daring--just barely--to hope. I remember feeling the first feeble movements and wondering if I'd ever meet this little one.

And now, here she is. Healthy. Whole. Here. 

Pictures of Seven!!!

The pictures of Seven you've been waiting for!

(Pictures posted by Benny - Mary Grace will post more later, of course!)

Seven...

... is here!!!

... came into the world at 6:21 this evening (pacific time).

... is 21 1/4 inches long.

... weighs 9 pounds 5 ounces.

... has already stolen the hearts of the entire Blandings family, even before meeting most of them.

... is a GIRL!!!

... is reported to look just like her big sister Jo did when she was born.

... 's Mommy is doing great - and is head over heels in love with her newest little gift from God.

... is very, very loved.

... is very, very blessed.

(Update brought to you by Mary Grace's friend Benny. Mary Grace will fill you in on the rest of the details herself when she gets a chance)

Thoughts before Seven arrives

•The neatest thing about pregnancy? You are never alone. Always, inside, you are carrying another person. It's a beautiful reminder to me as a Christian that I always bear someone else inside me ... and as obvious as it is to parade around town with a swollen belly, it should be even more obvious to everyone who sees me that I am honored to be a child of God.

•I had no idea, when I had three little ones four and under, how much easier it would someday be to actually have a whole houseful with a couple of older ones in the mix. Those eager helpers are a blessing I can't be grateful enough for.

•You are, truly, never ready to have a baby. I believed this 13 years ago as I counted down the days until Jo's birth. I believe it even more now.

•How is it possible that I am actually realizing that I will miss my aching back and that slipping feeling in my hips? Oh, perspective changes so much in one's life. I am so thankful for the chance to do all this again--and to relish it, rather than wish it away.

•Seven will not want for love. I can't count how many times each day one of the older children--or a friend, or even just someone on the periphery of our lives-- bubbles over with joy when talking about how excited they are to meet this little one. God surely knew what He was doing with timing for this blessing!

•Every pregnancy only happens once. With Jo, we were so poor that many of the little things I dreamed of doing were out of reach. With Atticus and Logan, I was too caught up in the cycle of pregnant-baby-nursing-pregnant-wean toddler-give birth-nursing-repeat to invest in these treasured moments. This time, I'm doing my best to prudently give in to my whims. Money is always an object, but by golly ... I will have lifelong momentos and memories of this pregnancy, and of Seven as a newborn. It's worth it.

•I am not in charge. Not of my body, this baby, or anything else, really. God is. And that's far more comforting than anything else I can say right now.

Yes, I'm *really* pregnant

Someone complained that I haven't posted a single belly pic throughout my entire pregnancy. So sorry. I really didn't think anyone was that interested in seeing me in all my glory. Anyhow, here it is. Me, last week, as I hit the 37 week mark. Hope this satisfies any curiosity. :-)

Got boys?

Logan, playing the part of "all boy" to the hilt.

I am always amazed by the way people perceive boys. Even a single, adorable little moppet of a boy sitting in the front of his Momma's shopping cart is likely to illicit a "Whoa! I bet he's a little troublemaker!" from a stranger. Making your way down an aisle with four of the little creatures, for some reason, makes people go bug-eyed.

"Heaven help you, honey," a well-meaning lady told me recently as I selected the perfect pineapple. "Tell me that one's not a boy, too." She motioned sympathetically toward my belly, as if it might contain yet another horrendous, messy, wild boy child.

In front of my four sons, mind you.

((sigh))

I have personally always been delighted by raising boys. Yes, yes, they contain little mysteries all their own. Why, for example, must they fixate on certain kinds of humor around the dinner table? Why, oh why, do they eventually want to learn to potty standing up? And why, most of all, do they ponder the most intimate gender questions aloud? In public? With the most volume they can muster? (Yes, there are stories behind this.)

None of these little idiosyncrasies give me pause in the thought of being the mother of yet another little man, however. No matter what bystanders think as they see us unload from our big white van ("Girl, boy, boy, boy, boy ... poor thing!") neither Mr. Blandings nor I has any aversion to Seven being a boy. Or a girl. Whatever he or she happens to be, we're simply delighted to see what God has in store for us.

That being said, I'm delighted to announce that whatever gender this baby is, the truth will be revealed September 11th at the latest. My doctor has given us an induction date based on the hefty size we're assuming Seven to be. If I go into labor spontaneously between now and then, so be it. If not, we'll meet our little one on 9/11/10.

Boy or girl. The wait is almost over. :-)