Hello, everyone! It is becoming quite apparent to me that I will never be a perfect blogger and get 3 plus posts out a week. I can barely seem to do one a month! But that is ok :) My husband and I moved again… haha… Within the same county! and we have the same jobs, so it wasn’t like the last two moves which turned our lives upside down completely. That still does not change the fact that moving can be quite difficult and strenuous.
This move, in particular, turned out to be difficult for me. On the one hand, I was incredibly excited to be transferring to a larger house. And not just larger folks, but a house that wasn’t falling apart. Our last house we rented while picturesque in some ways was literally falling to the ground. Between termite damage and the owners not fixing it since the 1970’s, it made for some interesting times. Holes in the kitchen floor larger than my foot, no insulation, the gas went out and we cooked over a fire outside for a time, and did I mention the entire house was carpeted in green shag carpet? Yes, even the kitchen had green carpet. To say I was looking forward to a better house is an understatement!
The monkey wrench in this move ended up being my husband had to leave for two weeks of job training for the week leading up to the move as well as for the move itself. Also, I was 29 weeks pregnant. That made for the worst formula ever. EVER. I have never and I mean never been so stressed in my entire life. I could not have done the move without the help of my two brother in laws and friends that’s for certain. Still… as cheesy as it may sound, I never realized how much I actually relied on Ethan until he was gone for two weeks at a crucial time. I felt like everything was completely falling apart.
Some odd weeks later we are getting settled in. Life is swinging into a more normal rhythm and I feel like I can sit down and breath. Currently, I am 32 weeks and some days pregnant. As the due date (May 24th) draws closer, Ethan and I grow more and more anxious to meet our baby girl. My mind is flooded with things to do! From setting up her room to arranging her baptism after she is born. The to-do list seems endless. I had to laugh a bit the other day. Before the move, I truly did have grand summer sewing plans. Which, coincidentally all flew out the window. I don’t have time to sew before she is born, between work and still moving in (it takes me a while to get things just how I like :) as well as I find myself purely not having the energy. Simple activities seem strenuous to me. Simple as in getting out of bed in the morning. That being said, I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Yes, it’s difficult. it’s difficult physically, and emotionally. Not to mention dealing with the onslaught of comments from the world. Such as your 20 and pregnant? Why on earth would you do such a thing? I have actually had some people ask me in hushed tones at the doctor's office (and elsewhere) “Was this on purpose?”
I thought getting married at 19 brought enough from the peanut gallery. Nope, turns out starting a family at the age of 20 “blows peoples minds” so to speak and they ask “But why?”. Continuously. The subject is difficult. I will be honest, becoming a mother has never been my dream. As a young adult, I had plans for my life that didn’t include marriage let alone having children until I was at least 26 or 27. The saying if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans has continued to ring true with my life day in and day out. Which I am thankful for! Because I wouldn’t trade having a baby and being married for anything. Yet, there are still moments of weakness. Moments when I wonder what life would have been if I really had joined the Navy and gone to nursing school. If I had pursued modeling and fashion design more. Those ‘what if’ feelings really creep up when other people feel the need to tell me how they feel about my life decisions. Comments like “Your wasting your life” “What are you thinking” come to mind as a write. Both of which have been expressed to me on numerous occasions from different spectators.
But every time I feel her kick, look at an ultrasound photo or even think to the first time we found out we were expecting; a pregnancy which sadly ended in a miscarriage. I think to myself it is so worth it. And while it isn’t what I had planned for my life, it doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t.
|Our old house WAS pretty cute. on the outside :)|
I am learning a lot right now. Being stretched and grown (literally and figuratively hehe) more than ever before. I’m learning to let go of having the perfect body. As well as learning I have major pride issues. A clean eating gal who works out regularly doesn’t get diagnosed with gestational diabetes without taking a major hit to her pride. When I was told I failed my glucose test, I actually told the doctor “That just can’t be. I do everything right! There’s been a mistake.” No, no mistake. I do indeed have gestational diabetes. Which makes me feel like a failure already as a mother. I know that’s not true and it really is a medical condition that I couldn’t help but that didn’t make hearing the diagnosis easier. On the brighter side! I am measuring perfectly, my weight gain is under control, and the doctor said my blood sugar numbers look good. So YAY.
To cap off what has been a super random post… I am counting my blessings as they are so many this Sunday. I am thankful for the warm weather, the mountains of North Carolina, my husband, our baby, a church, for growing fresh herbs and planning a summer garden. For letting go of being “perfect” or rather my illusion of perfect. Life is messy but lovely. And honestly? I don’t think I would change anything right now. Even the messy parts.