Introducing Selah Jo Wild

On Wednesday, December 20, 2017, our family welcomed a new baby girl into our lives. For that we are eternally grateful. She is Here. She might not be home with us or in our arms but she's alive and currently thriving. She's proven to be a strong little fighter and this mama will hug her for all of her days for being so strong. Even on the days where strong is difficult. 

Here she is at 5 days old. She nearly has all of her wires, electrodes, and iv's removed. Someday soon we hope she won't have to hear beeping machines as her normal white noise. 

(a more detailed story coming soon, this mama is currently still really exhausted and finding words to say) 

and then there was (almost) 2 under 2

In March, I was chatting with some of my female neighbors. One with a fresh babe, the other with a babe on the way, and me, surviving the most high-maintenance baby of my life and that was enough. So fast forward 1.5 months later, it's Margot's first birthday party. I'm over-heating and feeling so incredibly nauseous. Then the thought crept in my mind. NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT. I was going to have another baby.  So what did I do? I trekked on for another week or so, then I couldn't trek on anymore. My nausea and exhaustion were winning. I dug out the 1 of 2 pregnancy tests from the previous time I took a test. I do what you're supposed to do and I wait. With Margot my test turned within seconds but this time, I was going to have to wait, and wait, and wait.  What do I see? A very confusing, faint line that might mean I was pregnant. I went to Target, bought more tests and took them all. I was indeed pregnant.

The next steps were kind of a blur but I gathered my three tests and walked to the living room and threw said tests at my husband, mumbling something along the lines of "you did this to me." No judgement from you other mommas. But I WAS NOT having another baby. Except for I really was. 

At the time, I had just lost my health insurance the month before and was having issues attaining it again. It wasn't until 14 weeks that I found a clinic to do an ultrasound. Thank God for funded affordable clinics! I wanted to make sure that everything was OK more or less. That's when I saw the little babe for the 1st time. By this time, the babe wasn't a blob or a bean. I could see head, toes, fingers, and SO much movement. The woman asked me if I could feel it and I spouted of some scientific well you don't feel the baby until x number of weeks, so no. I realized later that I really was feeling those movements. Sometimes it takes an ultrasound of your belly to get perspective that life was happening and things were going to change and adapt again. 
So there you have it, welcoming baby in December.  A phrase I never thought I'd say. 

the season of more. more. more.

I really admire the minimalistic lifestyle. I’m drawn to it. I think there is so much beauty in the simplistic. But in my life, minimal is not a common way of life. When traveling for long bouts of time and coming back to a “reality” again, I often times have the opportunity to start fresh. I have far less clothes, I have far less furniture(if any at all) and everything still looks clean and uncluttered. I may have a random keepsake here and there but it’s minimal, it’s peaceful, it’s calm. This is my favorite feeling. Fast forward to 6 months and I have tripled my furniture, pictures on walls, vintage vases, and the list goes on. I seem to always find myself back to where I was.  In the "More" zone. 

Currently, my husband and I are at opposite ends. He would tell you otherwise, but he is in the "more" phase. I think because he has lived the minimalist lifestyle for so long and he's finally at a place to be standing still. Marriage does that to you. He now wants more. He has actually started hoarding furniture. He comes home with something he's stumbled upon and I have to look at him and tell him, "put it back where you found it." It actually stresses me out a bit. We don't have a lot of space to be adding non-functional furniture pieces or random lamps that aren't anything i'd ever have dreamed of having in my dream home. 

Then there is my mother. My mother (out of the goodness of her heart) sends us care packages. She usually sends us one-two a month. They are filled with randoms she finds from goodwill. My mom is a goodwill master. But sometimes it's too much. After her boxes, i end up having to buy more hangers or clear our drawers to store what she's send.  We only have so much space and in the back of my mind, I keep thinking that it's going to be a pain to move. Moving is something we'd like to do sooner rather than later. The more stresses me out. Especially during the holiday season. 

I remember working retail around this time and the goal was to sell as much as possible. The other goal was for me to not purchase anything. Then I'd do it anyways. Then the goal was let's see if I can not purchase anything this week or this day. But it never worked. I fall into the trap too. Then I get frustrated from the holiday corporation. That makes us believe that we need to buy more. We need those special edition christmas collection ornaments that looked almost identical from last years collection. What happened to breaking down what it means to be in the holidays. Family traditions. spending time together. being thankful for what we have. knowing that we are not alone and there are thousands of people who have far less than we do. hug your loved ones and send them more blessings this year. not more of something that will be out of season next year. 

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6