blast out your message of hope!
Rebel against the weariness of despair,
the back-breaking burden of seriousness,
the meticulous dissection of fearful plans.
None of the world’s noise is loud enough
to silence the sound of your wordless proclamation:
“Have hope, hope, hope!”
The grimy winter is grinding to a halt
and from the earth’s breast,
goodness is springing forth once again.
A world of grey is shattered
by one shard of green and yellow life.
Your tiny foot—
softer than a silky dog’s ear—
easily fits into the palm of my hand
as you nurse yourself into a cozy milk coma
and snuggle by my side.
Only a week ago,
that same foot
was pushing up against my ribs,
knocking on the door of my heart
as if to say,
“Mama, I’m ready to meet the world!”
And oh, Tiny Foot, how ready I was to meet you!
After a big wait, I’m happy to announce that my little baby boy was born last night, just before midnight. After a very slow pre-labour, things picked up with the help of some oxytocin (which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be) and we filled the birthing tub at the hospital. About 40 minutes after climbing into that warm embrace of water, and holding off as long as I could to let my body prepare to release him without tearing, I gave a few big pushes, and there he was. A tiny little snuggly darling all covered in white vernix and snuggling on my chest.
After a few wet kisses to the top of his head, he got passed to his Daddy, to hold swaddled while I got dried off and into bed. After some anti-bleed medicine and some pain meds for after cramps, I was ready to hold my baby and eat my midnight meal, amazingly dropped off by our sweet friends Peter and Sophia at the hospital at 10:30 pm that night!
Here we are!
It doesn’t take baby boy long to wake up and smell the milk…and within minutes, he’s nursing like a little pro. See how he’s rooting already? 🤣
Here he is with his Daddy.
I’m here at the hospital, just waiting to move to a birthing room from the admitting room.
I had a nap while baby’s heart was being monitored…he’s happy and great. Then I ate some trail mix.
Seemed like a good time for a little ABBA dance party to help things move along!
So I am thoroughly enjoying my day out with my lovely midwife. Hopefully tonight I’ll have some sweet baby pics to share with you all!
Thank you for all your love and prayers! 🥰
Of course, after admonishing our kids not to wake up too early for Christmas (they once woke up at midnight to open the stockings on the ends of their beds) it would be me, their mom, who woke up at 2:30 am and couldn’t get back to sleep. So silly, as the kids and I had worked so hard to prepare ahead, had finished wrapping and had even stuffed the stockings and stowed them in a box days ago, so I wouldn’t have to burn the midnight oil playing Mrs Clause. Yet I woke up. Was it pregnancy heartburn, excitement, or insomnia?
Whatever it was, I decided Santa’s tradition of the post-midnight snack was a good idea and got up to have an angel sugar cookie and a glass of milk. I’d say I had a snack with Santa, but you’d know from Google Santa Tracker that he was already safely back home in the North Pole by this hour.
So while I’m up, I thought I’d take this quiet moment chance to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, despite everything, and a lot of hope for better things to come in 2021. Thank you so much to all our family and friends who supported us from afar this year, as we went through the pandemic, and through the illness and loss of my Dad, Bob, to cancer. Your loving words, encouragement, cards, flowers or food dropped at our door have meant a lot.
Shortly after my Dad passed away, in the morning of November 9th, it began snowing, which is rare on the rainy coast. “Mum, Mum,” said the kids with excitement, “Grandpa is sending us snow from Heaven with Josephine!” It’s amazing how positive and resilient kids can be in the face of loss. Here are a few pictures from our house, where we have tried to find all the joy and sparkle we can this Advent.
May God in his humble nearness at Christmas surround you with blessings and give you the eyes to see them, so the little hidden miracles of each day can shine and bring you hope.
Lots of love from all the Eastlands here at Just East of Crazy Land! Thanks for being here, making me feel less alone as I eat cookies and milk at 3 am, and await the sparkly madness of Christmas morning with 7 kids! ✨🌲✨🎁✨🌲✨
In my last post, “Spot the Difference” I posted two pictures that my daughter drew of our family, and asked readers to spot the difference. Perhaps you’re all too busy with summer holidays to read or comment, or were simply hesitant to wager a guess, so here are a few more pictures that should make things a little more obvious.
And here’s the family member who isn’t in the photo, for the simple fact that this little bean didn’t exist yet, except, as the saying goes, as a twinkle in her father’s eyes. ✨
My sister has dubbed our new little one Timbit, because this is how James and I announced the baby to our other kids: we brought home a box of Timbits and told the kids we had a little piece of news for them, one currently smaller than a Timbit. After several guesses about things like Daddy buying me jewellery or something, and a hint that the news would not stay the size of a Timbit, the excited kids realized it was a baby.
Yup, it’s kinda crazy, but at this point, may as well own the crazy. Thinking of getting such a jersey for the baby to save trouble at the grocery store: “Oh, how cute! Is this your second? Third? Fourth?”
You get the idea. Lucky #9!
It is worth it to stay up half the night
to see the misty moon
disappear and re-emerge behind the scattered clouds
that drift like silver ribbons across the sky.
It is worth it to peer up at the quiet stars
and hear above the faint roar of a few cars
on the highway far below
the gentle hoot of an owl.
It is worth it so see the silhouette of trees
standing like living paintbrushes
solemn and still
against the pearly grey night sky.
It it worth it to feel the summer air
on my skin at midnight
and know that the goosebumps
are more from awe
than the slight cool of the breeze.
It is worth it to stay up half the night
to be in love with the ever-changing sky
and write it poetry.
Creation is so beautiful—
my heart is bursting with it!
Can anyone feel so happy as I am
alone with the moon,
in the company of memories?