my dears ...

Dear Baby Girl-

You are supposed to come out on Wednesday.  This freaks me out a little. Not just that we 'know' when you are arriving (which indeed feels strange) but also because I feel I haven't prepared myself emotionally and mentally to be 100% with you yet.  We just moved houses. Countries. And life has been really busy getting sorted. Your brother is lovely and has also been really really taking up a lot of energy since we have been in our new house. I am equal parts excited and nervous about how he will be with you. He has been telling everyone he has a sister in his tummy and talks about you, knows your name.  I hope when you are here he will understand that you will need me. A lot. And that he can share me with you with a bit of patience. You can see why I am nervous.

I am just starting to get really excited to meet you. Girl. Brown eyes? The recessive blue gene again? Pointy chin? Baldy? Who are you going to be? Will you be a easy going person? (your gyrating and dance moves this last month make me think otherwise)  Or will you be all energy/all day like your brother?  In my heart I hope you are a relaxed kid. And if you aren't we will work with it.

Mostly know we want you here. We are ready in all the ways that matter. Our hearts and our love is on deck, ready to welcome you into the world, our family. Life. Come safe. Come healthy. Come.

Dear Big Boy-

You ARE my big boy, as you keep reminding me. And you are also my baby as you keep reminding me. I know things have been so different at our new house. You have adjusted so beautifully to all the new circumstances, people, situations, I am amazed by you. And now we bring in a sister for you, making things all manner of different again. I worry that you will be OK with more change. And with my arms being full of baby when you are so used to them being all yours.

Know that you, my best boy are always going to be that. And I hope that your new role as big brother is as fun and sweet as I imagine it to be... in time. I understand that you might not think so for a while and I totally get it. I hope we can be understanding as you get used to it all. Together we can figure out what it looks like. You will always be my beloved baby.

Dear Husband-

It has been a rough 3 months. And we are finally here. Cambridge. Job. House. In. Baby. It has been a really tough time for me. And you. And we are here. We made it.

I wish we had more time to be just us for a bit before a family of four.  I miss our time together. And things are as they are. I trust that we will grow through this and with it as our family reforms into some new shape. And we will eventually reclaim our couple hood. Or at least steal moments to drink wine in the garden when the kids are asleep. (that WILL HAPPEN, right???) Thank you for your patience with me. And for creating order from chaos. For showing up for us when we need you. For being the devoted dad you are. And for knowing what's important. We'll need more of that in the months to come. I can't wait to see you with your baby girl. I hope she doesn't take too much advantage of the softie you are in  your heart.

Dear Me-

You have been doing the best you can. I know this. It hasn't always been pretty, and I know that this move has tested your innards a bit more than you banked on. But you did it.  See how strong you can be? And I know you can be strong again for baby girl. Surgery isn't fun but your body is super capable of fast healing. You have enough love for all the people who need you, including you.  Be brave. Allow yourself to be excited. Things will be OK. Let go of the control and enjoy the ride.

Dear Rest of my Life-

I am sorry I haven't been paying attention to you... brain, family, friends, blog, fashion, healthy eating, news, facebook. We've had the waters rising up to our chins. But I imagine them receding. In time. Please be there when we come round to the present tense. I'll need you a lot for comedic relief and sanity.

Love,
me

sharp left turn

Image: cbenjasuwan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

We have been sadly been living a Bon Jovi song ... living on a prayer. Which is a bit tough for an agnostic and a very lapsed Catholic.

Jobs end, money stops, mortgages and bills carry on.
Not real fun.
And now, we are half way there (continuing my Bon Jovi theme.)

A nice juicy contract position and a future to lean into ... ahhh.

And it is in Cambridge.

Not. Glasgow. Not even Scotland.

So here we are on the eve on this all beginning. The kick off.

After a long, cold winter of worrying and waiting for change, tomorrow it starts.

Tomorrow he begins this job.
Tomorrow we begin time apart while we work on moving forward.
Tomorrow things change.

I think the AA serenity prayer is particularly handy right now.

As well as trust. Faith. Hope. Connection. And most of all love.

We know that as long as we are together, happy, healthy and comfortable, our home is together. And that together is just going to be somewhere else.

Selling the flat, packing, moving, explaining it all to a 2.5 year old all while carrying the load of a 3rd trimester at my advanced maternal age with my tiny tolerance for chaos may test my mettle. And my sanity.

So we take this sharp left. We aren't sure what it looks like. Or how it will be. But does anyone? Every time the Universe has asked demanded change and I can go without attachment and with an open heart and a clear vision, it has blown my expectations wide.

So we begin with eyes open, hearts full.

going under

Friday's  note from the Universe told me that wisdom arrives in silence.

Silent is what I have been feeling lately. Not that I have nothing to say. But more that my words go in circles. I find myself at a weird juncture, causing me to walk carefully without attachment to my current situation.

Looks like dear husband's job really really going to end soon and we are now looking at some rather dramatic options to our next step. Rent out our (lovely, big, perfect) flat and go live somewhere for as free as possible. In Laws. And await a job. And decide if the US is that next place to be.

This level of Get Ready to Jump is putting my running our household/laundry doing/house stocking/cleaning/care taking//friendship nurturing /social outreach right into a state of emergency. And then ultimately a state of unattachment.

Do I have to let go of *this* in order to reach what's next? How tight is my grip on keeping things the same? What am I preventing by this? What do I need to let go of? What's really important here? What's scaring me about leaving? What scares me about staying?

Yeah- those are the twilrlings in my noggin. All big thinkings and all insider jobs, done a bit in, well, silence.

What's emerging in that silence is sometimes complete acceptance. (Hey, I am not MARRIED to Glasgow, we can make new friends and lighten our load of *stuff* and just GO. ) Othertimes it is more desparate clinging and hand wringing (I LOVE our home, we finally own everything, I love our friends and the neighbourhood and out life here and Lew is happy and we are settled, finally settled for a while and I DON'T WANNA GO. Stamp foot.)

What else is emerging is that I have done this all before. What I need is trust. Hope. Lean into what's possible, dream more about what it is we WANT in our future. ( I see Seattle, a cute house, Mark's GREAT job, more babies and a lovely lifestyle)

AND AND AND ... it may be something else.  Something I have not yet dreamed of.

What I know is it matters that we are a) together b) happy c) OK.

The rest can come.

Even as I type I can feel the undercurrents of this going under.

It resonates.

When I am silent. 

Circling Houston

Exactly 5 years ago, I moved to the UK for a new life.

I didn't have the easiest time getting INTO the UK (if anyone remembers my melt down and near denial of entry at Heathrow Immigration).

And now, exactly 5 years later, I am due another chapter.

Today is my due date for entry into another new foreign country -- motherhood.

After 40 weeks of pregnancy, I feel like I have been on a very long flight and have been able to occupy myself just fine -- reading, sleeping, music, snacking, looking out the windows, chatting with fellow passengers, etc. And now it is time to land and we are near the airport but are circling over and over, awaiting clearance. Circling Houston.

I am uncomfortable. I want to stretch out. I am out of chat, out of magazines and out of patience. I want to land. I want to BE there.

Unlike me in 2004, I am very hopeful that Lewis will seamlessly enter this world with all his papers in order and will be greeted with smiles and warm welcomes without a hitch.

He may come today -- or not... we all know the art not the science of predicting due dates.

What I do know (in my most southernly regions and in my heart) that he IS coming.

I just need to calm myself the heck down and reread the Skymall catalog. They have some nifty things in there.

And the next chapter is about to begin.

deep slumber

One week can really kick reality's ass.

We are freshly home after our seamless week in Mallorca. It did just what we wanted -- air, sun, time, food, wine, relaxing, fun, silliness, away. Although saying that, home has never felt so good, nor our bed so super delicious.

Now to enjoy the freshness of our clean (thanks to pre holiday efforts) home, blue crispy sky in Edinburgh and extra hour of day (thanks to British summertime ending) before Mark starts his big job tomorrow and the next phase offically kicks off.