Sunday, February 16, 2014

Waiting In Vain

Something tells me my patience will be tried way more than this.

So I'm like, get used to it sister.

I'm over here thinking about spicy food, castor oil, sex (who isn't?), nipple twisting (who is?), walking, primrose oil, relaxation techniques, hypnosis, yogic squats (goddess pose), pressure points, and whatever else I can possibly find in my research of how to start a labor. 

Now unless the doctor is waving Pitocin at me 1-2 weeks after my due date, why am I trying to rush this poor baby? Already telling it to hurry up, let's get going.

Not how I want to start this relationship. It's just that I'm so excited. Not only to see how things turn out, know the sex, but to know this child. The suspense has been killing me for almost 10 months, 
carrying this kicking and punching bundle and wondering. 

I'm just so damn ready. On every level. So excited too. 
And would just straight up like to get this show on the road because my back hurts and also my pelvis and pubic bone. And I just get so dang tired.

But more than anything, I'm tired of holding my baby in uterus. I'm anxious to hold her/him in arms. 

Very attractive picture Will took the other night. Bigger than a boat.
BUT it's not up to me, is it? Life and God and baby choose 
when and where the whole thing goes down. 
My first big act of parental surrender is now. And now is the only time to do it.

So while I'm doing this or that, mind in the future, waiting on my baby and body to do something, I'm missing all these pre-mommy seconds. Spending time with my husband alone, smiling at and loving on my dog, reading and writing. All things I could be giving over my presence to 
instead of wondering, waiting and wishing. 

Like I said, not how I want to start off this relationship.
No more "Hurry up! You're going to be late."

"Whenever you're ready, baby. There is a right time, and you know it." As I take a deep breath, feel my body from the inside, and enjoy this beautiful day, this beautiful moment. 

It will happen in its own perfect time. No more waiting in vain.
The most challenging time to stay present is now. 

"Concentrate all your thoughts on the task at hand. The sun's rays do not burn until brought to a focus."
-Alexander Graham Bell

Impatiently,
Liza Jane

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Hello Sunshine

"Gah, what's that bright-ass light in my face?"

Oh. It's the sun. Hello. I'm so glad to see you, sunshine.

Thanks be to God. For real. I was spiraling downward, taking my grown fetus and husband with me.

To make things even more beautiful this morning, the sun is melting the ice that froze every blade of grass, every limb of every tree---pecan, crepe myrtle, cypress, oak, etc. 
Every bush, every berry, everything. 

As a prize for enduring the darkness and ice, the sun is shining through the prisms of glass adornment on nature, crystals dripping, raining down little sparkly diamonds.
The sound of rain in the brilliant sun, everything shimmering like an overdone dinner party out there--the trees with their white, stiff wigs melting. 


I can't get enough of looking at it. Right at it. That's where the fun is. 

I do realize that all my pics are of my backyard now.
Makes me want to go put on some jewelry and walk around with lipstick on. But of course, keeping in my sweatpants and huge T-shirt, because let's face it, these are the only things that fit/are comfortable to wear for me. 

For a lassie who's just about freaking 10 months pregnant, I am just recklessly in love with this scene, sitting by the fire, and completely inspired. Staring at my little, warming Narnia in the Delta. 

I haven't written in a while, and might not for another while. But I'm feeling the love this morning and sending it to you, if anyone still reads this blog about nothing. 

And my thought for today: Observance. So much to stop and stare at. To observe and see. I want to notice. Not only the sunshine, affecting every little thing. But hold steady to thoughts and emotions too. Dig in, scoop them up with sunshine, melting these things like crystals, softening the hard. 

We shall see. Can't wait to say hello to my own little sunshine thing. 

Watchful,
Liza Jane