6.24.2020
Mopsy Update
Thanks so much to those who prayed for Mom. Her surgery went without a hitch, praise the Lord, and the surgeon successfully removed the tumor. When the pathology report comes back, she'll know whether she can get away with six weeks of chemo, or if the course of treatment will be longer and stronger, but for now, we are all grateful and relieved that her surgery went smoothly.
The afternoon of her surgery, she was out puttering around in the flower garden, so it's safe to say she's recovering well. :)
Thank you all!
6.19.2020
Surfacing
For a few weeks after my last snapshot-laden post in April, I took more snapshots. We woke to the phenomenon of heavy snow in mid-May and wondered if spring was on hold along with everything else, until the cherry blossoms decided that enough was enough and flooded the branches with a headier white. The world is swift and bright in spring-- the sunlight unfiltered, the green enthusiastic, all things new and glowing-- but I took few pictures. Because I now have a daughter(s) who shares my camera, which involves memory card switcheroo, I lost my memory card containing those few weeks of snapshots. I treat this often dusty space as a memory cache for me and mine, and also (and mostly) I am compulsive about proceeding in order, at least in a falsely tidy blog, so I then abandoned all will to continue shotsnaps. Plus, it's spring! We're slow-stewing in vitamin D and all the outdoor chores that really-truly never end.
At best, I've taken a dozen pictures in the last month, and Millie is beginning to eye my (her?!) camera with the territorial gaze of a raptor. Two important events have brought me out of this temporary blog hibernation-- one of a sober nature and one of a super-duper nature.
First with the sober: for those who would, please pray for Mopsy. Last month, the hospital finally opened its doors a bit wider again, and she was able to have her overdue cancer scan. She has a new cancerous tumor that needs to be removed, and the surgery is this coming Tuesday the 23rd, followed by six weeks of chemo. Please pray for her peace, health, and continued joy, and please pray that the surgeon will successfully remove all the cancerous bits. Thanks to those of you who care enough about this dear, little mother to lift her up to our Father!
Secondly, I want to share an exchange I had with Cadence, but before I do so, you need to go here, scroll down, and read the comments on this old post.
I'll wait.
Still waiting.
Are you finished?
Okay.
HURRAH! After 14 months of perimenopause, with all of its attendant hot flashes, wacky mood swings, wacky body other-stuff, massive weight gain, even through the summer (What?! You think candy and doughnuts contributed to this? No chance!), I figured that God was probably easing me into older age and that babies to hold from henceforth would belong to other people. I so fully enjoyed Skylark's babyhood and early toddlerhood that this prospect, though strange and bittersweet like most transitions, was not rife with regret that I had not soaked up that last baby like I should have. And Skylark didn't mind being indulged by Last Baby Syndrome, at all! She was still sleeping beside our bed and still nursing at nearly 2 1/2 years old, a luxury afforded no other Owen baby. What a joy she is...
And what a complete delight and utter wonder it is to be growing a little one within right now. I haven't been to the doctor yet (give me a couple of months), but I think I'm about 20 weeks right now. This baby's greeting was a shining ray in the gloomy first days of March and will arrive in the dreary first days of November, so we're calling him or her Sunbeam, or Sunny.
I've just begun feeling the kicks and stirs of daily movement and often am filled with first-time wonder-- grateful and, at times, in awe at being included one more time in the Shaper's creation of new life.
So here's to double digits!
From Last Month: Real Time to Remember
Having given her the ritual Good Morning Hug, Cadence and I were cuddling on the couch when my belly rumbled loudly enough for her to notice.
She sat bolt upright, eyes big with awe: "Mama! I just heard the baby rattle!"
It has happened several times since. My empty morning belly rumbles, and she, with a pleased grin, tells me that the baby just rattled.
With all that rattling and clattering about, I wonder what she imagines the baby's living space is like.
:)