Moving On

Well, we've moved on. Or, over. Our family has officially relocated one state over, back to Arizona, but this time in Phoenix. It's taking a bit of adjusting (as to be expected, naturally) and I'm anxiously awaiting the end of summer (and thus the end of 105 degree heat). Yes, it is almost October and yes, it is currently 102 with a high of 106.

But we have a beautiful home that is (mostly) unpacked. Much more space than we had before, which is nice. We're slowly making new friends and reconnecting with old ones.

I am enjoying my toddler who occasionally tries my patience and almost always makes me laugh. It's nice to have a bit of my life back now that she isn't so needy as an infant.

I Didn't Know

I didn't know it would be like this. Motherhood. Wearing your heart exposed. I see the photos of Mary holding the Christ Child, her Immaculate heart exposed with a sword in it and I just get it.

Motherhood is like that. A heart on the outside, waiting to be pierced with both sorrows and joys.

Last night, I spent the evening reading a blog by a mother whose fourth pregnancy had a "poor prenatal diagnosis." She chose to carry her pregnancy to term and give birth to a daughter who lived for two and a half hours, a daughter who died on her birth day. I'm not a sentimental person. But I wept, wept at the photos of her tiny daughter, wept at the thought of losing my child, wept because throughout the world, there are mothers who lose their children every day.

Every six seconds, a child dies of hunger.

Every thirty seconds, a child dies of malaria.

Every eight seconds, a child dies of lack of water or a waterbourne illness.

Every three seconds, a child simply dies.

That's 20 children per minute, 1,200 per hour, 28,800 per day.

Those statistics should stun anyone. But it should especially stun us who are mothers. The mere thought of losing my child is enough to bring me to my knees in grief because I love her so much. And motherlove is the same across all languages and cultures. Every child on this planet--every person on this planet--is loved like I love my child. The thought of that much love is staggering.

That is over 28,000 women a day whose exposed hearts break as their beloved babies and children die in their arms, the sword piercing.

The thought of that much sorrow is staggering.

The Deepest

I thought maybe I'd forget this year, that my life had woven its way out of your memory and into the future. But here we are again.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
*e.e. cummings

Co-Sleeping

Five tiny toes
pointed high
straight to the ceiling.
Arm thrown out.
Sweaty hair pressed
against forehead.
Hand patting my face
reassuring
while sleeping.
Sweet smell of
milk breath
mingling with mine.

Snapshots of my nights.

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HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY, BABY! These are our wishes for your next year. May you grow in light and love.

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ZIPPY

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SELF PORTRAIT

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DINNER

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LUNCH.

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Just painted my toenails with a fresh coat of red.

365:1

I am going to embark on a photography adventure this year. "Project 365" is a challenge to take one photo a day to document your life over the course of one year and post them to a blog.

So January 1, I give you Charlotte and her Ride Along:

2009

Lately, I feel like the Virgin Mary.

Not in the virginal sense, of course.

My favorite verse from the entire Christmas story is the often unnoticed one.

Luke 2:19: But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

I love this Bible verse. In fact, it might be my favorite verse in the entire Bible. It's not a verse that is prophetic or life changing. It doesn't talk about salvation or the destiny of mankind. But, the verse is so...human. So real.

I've often wondered about Mary. Last year, I felt like her, being very tired and great with child. But now that I've had my child and hold her squirming body in my arms every day over the last year, the reality of what motherhood is has resonated with me--what it means to create a person from my body, nurture her body and soul every day with my own body.

These days are so long and these months are so short. And I find myself, every day, treasuring up all these things and pondering in my heart.