I swear I didn’t have this article in mind when I blogged yesterday, but it did feel good to get my “lots” out there. :)
The article is interesting, but there is SO MUCH BENEFIT in talking with a professional about what “ails” you.
That is another post for another day. Soon, my friends. Soon.
Gwyneth is out of the hospital. WHOO HOO! :)
Here are a couple of pictures.
A note Nate posted today, thanking everyone at the NICU, is here.
And the post announcing Gwyneth’s birth on January 8, is here. The title, “I’m a Daddy!” got me choked up all over again.
She was born at 24 weeks, 4 or 5 days gestation — I can’t remember which. A full-term pregnancy is 40 weeks. The gestational age of “viability” is 24 weeks.
She’s come a LONG way.
She’s a week past 4 months old, but her age, adjusted for her due date, is three weeks. She weighs 4 pounds, 10 oz. They have lots of night feedings ahead of them.
Remember, Tricia is only six weeks post-double lung transplant. She’s still doing physical therapy, and still recovering.
So keep praying. And thanks for all the prayers so far. I KNOW they made a world of difference.
Well, that’s not true. I have “lots.”
I just don’t know if I’m ready or brave enough or comfortable enough to share.
What will people think about the fact that I want to experience pregnancy, and labor, and breastfeeding, and lots of other “parenty” things, but that I don’t want to be a parent?
What will people think about how selfish I sometimes feel about NOT wanting to be a parent, when there are so many people out there who can’t have babies, or who have miscarriages, or whose babies die just before their due date, or whose babies die shortly after birth?
What will people think about the fact that my new doctor thinks that I’m still really conflicted about our decision not to become parents? (And about the fact that I think know he’s right?)
And just to lighten the mood, here’s a picture of some… um… baby geese and their parents. :)
Pity the fool who messes with this father goose’s babies…
And for a whole LOT of wordFULLness, come visit me on Monday when we’ll be telling stories about weddings. :)
So what do you think about this project? I think it’s a brilliant idea. And the thought of a quiet evening each week appeals to me quite a lot. I just need to figure out which night each week to do it — or not to do it — depending on your point of view and on what your definition of “it” is.
And yes (ironically), there is a social networking site for the project. You can find it here.
My husband took this photo with his camera phone a little while ago while walking our dogs. Isn’t it DIVINE!? :) (How I wish I’d been there.)
It’s comforting, somehow, to know that even the president’s daughter can have slight hiccups occur at her wedding.
Maybe it’s just the angle, but doesn’t the top layer of this cake look off-kilter?
Take a moment to look at all the photos, which are beautiful. Jenna Bush was a lovely bride.
On Saturday, Ed and I went to pick strawberries. I’d gone to a strawberry farm once as a kid (I can’t remember the particulars), but Ed had never picked strawberries, or at least not at a farm. (Did you know that strawberries actually grown in nature without benefit of farms? Shocking! ;) )
Picking strawberries is work, but SO worth it! These are the best strawberries I’ve ever eaten. And I feel good that we’re eating locally grown food. This is something I’ve been wanting to do more of, and picking the strawberries has inspired me to scout out farmer’s markets. I think next Saturday will find us heading up the road a few miles on the hunt for locally grown vegetables. And, at the rate Ed’s thinking up things to make with our strawberries, we may find ourselves picking berries again. :)
I wonder if the strawberry pictured above will have ripened and been picked by then?
This plant, a mere three years ago, was a fine, fine specimen. It grew from this tiny plant in a two-inch pot to a behemoth in two years. When I bought my house in 2005, I had to prune 50 feet — 50 FEET! — of plant so it wouldn’t take over the whole house.
There, the plant didn’t have the same fabulous light it had in my apartment. When I moved here in 2006, after Ed and I got married, the plant got even worse light. Then, a few months ago, we had to move the plant again. Its new location afforded it no sunlight.
And that leads us to the pitiful plant you see before you. This type of plant is, allegedly, indestructible. And I managed to “destruct” it. And it was a birthday present from my sister. Wah!
We’ve put it on the porch in a last-ditch effort to revive it. I think it will need divine intervention. Feel free to pray.
NaComLeavMo: More Conversation Than You Can Shake a Stick at
And I Only Have a Bachelor's Degree
