7 months and chunk on those cheeks.
She is 7 months and 3 days old today. I am 27 years old today. I was born 27 years ago, and she was born 7 months ago, and it feels like I’ve only just begin living in the last 7 months: the hardest, most gut wrenching pain I’ve ever had to go through, and the most beautiful, extraordinary, life giving, warmth in my breath moments of exhilaration. The joy she brings to my heart is endless. She is a gift and makes my cup overflow.
Her chin and cheeks hang over straps and bibs. Her eyes squish with love when she sees me.
I am so thankful for her. It’s clique, but she’s the greatest birthday gift.
The other day the sight of her grasping a toy and bringing it to her mouth stabbed my heart so deeply. I am thankful she can grasp toys. And though somedays my heart burns for her, and I want her to play and roll and crawl, I know that she is happy where she is. So I am too. I still desire more for her and am continuing to fan that flame of faith and believing for miracles and visualizing life for her. Just last night I spent some time visualizing (I know, sounds weird) her crawling and clapping her hands and bouncing around on my lap. It was a visual delight. At first it felt so surreal and scary even. I couldn’t see her face on her bobbing body, but then I did, and her whole body transformed and I thought, “Aha, that is Florence too! She’s just not there yet.” It’s similar to those days spent in single hood when a girl visualizes what her future husband might look like or becoming a bride, and imagines what all those feelings must be like. I like to do that for Florence too. I choose to live in joy, and believe that is has already been done by my Saviour, Jesus. Otherwise I will have to scramble to get back the months or years that the locust ate.
She is gentle and peaceful, it oozes from her, but I sense a strength within her. She teaches me everyday about waiting on the Lord and happiness and patience. How is it that a child can teach me so much? It’s simple. Jesus came as a child.
In other news:
I’m reading: Back to an old favourite, Come Away My Beloved by Francis J Roberts. This is a very rich and lyrical devotional that gets me every time. I highly recommend it.
I’m making: Lots and lots of placenta capsules and not a lot of food. It’s been a busy week, and I feel up to my eyeballs in cloth diapers, long sleeved onesies, dishes, grocery shopping and errand running. I’m considering reverting back to exclusively breastfeeding Florence, or offering less solids during the day. She doesn’t seem too excited by them, if offered three times a day, so I think I’ll slow it down. It’s these little things that fog my brain up during the day, and cause me to put the cheese in the cupboard overnight, throw my keys in the garbage instead of the paper in my other hand, and drive around the block trying to remember where I’m supposed to be going (ie, which errand was I running?!) Bedtime comes like roaring thunder at 9:30 and yet there’s so much to do…
I’m listening to: All Sons & Daughters, especially this one: