Nursing Necklace

So, I have a mondo post in draft, which is close to being done...but not quite there yet. But something else came up that I'd like to quickly post about, because it combines a few things that are really important to me right now, and also gives me an excuse to link to a really awesome, new (to me) blog that is becoming one of my favorite spots on the interwebs these days.

I'll start with the blog... So, remember everyone's favorite quirky 90s television teen, Blossom? Well, it turns out that the actress who played her, Mayim Bialik, has grown up into one of the coolest people around, by my standards at least. She has a PhD in Neuroscience, has written a book about parenting based on her scientific knowledge as well as her own experience mothering her two sons, and has returned to acting in her role as a quirky female scientist and nerdy love interest to one of the main characters [that link is a YouTube clip of the show featuring Mayim's character] on the prime time TV show The Big Bang Theory, for which she is currently nominated for an Emmy. In addition to all of this, Mayim is also a practicing and devout Jew, who takes her Jewish faith very seriously. She blogs at a website called Kveller: A Jewish Twist on Parenting, which means her blog is about a combination of being Jewish, being a parent, and inevitably, being a working actress, and what happens when you combine all these things into one full, wonderful life. (Sound familiar?)

If I sound a bit like I'm gushing, it's because I am. Now, I'm not Jewish, and I don't watch The Big Bang Theory, but I did watch Blossom growing up, I am an academic (and being a PhD in Neuroscience, arguably so is she), and most importantly in this case, I am also a new mother who takes her faith very seriously. And by the way, Orthodox Christianity and Judaism share many of the same values, not to mention thousands of years of history and tradition (leading up to Christ). So, while Mayim and I don't agree about who Jesus Christ is, there is more common ground between us than one may initially think. Which is to say, her blog covers a lot of topics that are important to me right now, having to do with faith, family and work life. So, I am likely to link to it here from time to time...like I'm about to do now.

In one of her recent posts, Mayim shares what it is like getting ready for the Emmy awards ceremony. If you go give it a quick read, you'll see first of all why I love this lady so much: the post is about finding a modest but flattering dress for the ceremony. For an actress in Hollywood to care about such things is pretty awesome if you ask me. Furthermore, the reason for her caring is tied to her faith--extra points from me for that! But the part of the post that got me thinking and then acting in like manner recently was the bit about wearing something around her neck to represent her Jewish faith:

As I considered the dress, my thoughts invariably turned toward my neck. Why? Because I try and wear a Jewish star around my neck anytime I’m in public, or private for that matter. I like publicly identifying as a Jewish person by adorning my neck with the Star of David. It’s kind of my thing. With all due respect to stylist Ali, she doesn’t always feel my Jewish star necklace “goes” with every outfit and I had a feeling the Emmys would be one of those nights that she would say my Jewish star doesn’t “go” with the outfit.

In the end, Mayim and her stylist agreed upon a different Jewish symbol for Mayim to wear around her neck on Emmy night: a mezuzah. So, ok, interesting, but you're probably wondering what this has to do with me.

Well, last week I made the decision to stop wearing my necklace which is made of metal (gold) and holds two things precious to me: the cross, and my wedding band. I have worn a cross around my neck ever since I became an Orthodox Christian. And my wedding band, well, that's pretty self-explanatory, but the reason it is on a chain around my neck is because my hands are still a bit swollen from water retention due to my pregnancy, and the band doesn't fit me at the moment.

The reason I stopped wearing the necklace is because of my baby. I often hold her against my chest, and the cross is too sharp for comfort since sometimes her face smacks against me when I am hoisting her up or when she is making it clear she is hungry. In addition, she is now grabbing at my shirt and whatever is in reach while nursing and being held (which is so adorable by the way), which means she could yank the chain and I could lose my wedding band as well as the cross. For these reasons, I have decided not to wear my metal jewelry around my neck as long as she is still nursing, which could be for a while, God willing.

I am surviving with my wedding band stored away in a safe place, since I have a Claddagh ring that does fit on my left ring finger which I can wear in the meantime to signify that I am very much "taken" by my husband. But the absence of the cross, while not such a big deal for me, bothers me for the sake of my daughter. She spends so much time at my breast, and I liked the idea of her seeing and touching the cross while she is there. I want her to be familiar with it on an intimate level, as it is the symbol of our Christian faith, but I also don't want its presence to be dangerous for her, as the gold cross is since it is so sharp and could scratch her while she is snuggling against me.

So, the solution? A cross made of cord instead of metal, of course! I happened to own one already that is just the right size, which I picked up at a monastery at some point over the past few years. So I went digging for it yesterday and, thankfully, found it. While it was not made to be a nursing necklace, per say, I am using it as one so my daughter knows the cross from her infancy. And while its black color and starkness is rather more ascetic than aesthetic, parenting is by far one of the most ascetic endeavors I have ever embarked upon, and so its character as such seems fitting.

Rosebud's Arrival (in pictures, mostly)

When last we left off, I was nesting big time right as I became full term. Then 40 weeks arrived...

Monday, July 23, 2012...1st Due Date

Wednesday, July 25, 2012...2nd Due Date
and Feast of St. Anna
(this pic of silliness was me trying not to
be stressed about going past due...)

Still July 25th...Queen Anne's Lace :)
(significance will be revealed shortly)

Thursday, July 26th was my last day at work. Then, the weekend arrived...

Saturday, July 28, 2012...began a challenging (for me)
crocheting project, waiting to go into labor...which finally
happened later that night, and went through the next day
(Sunday the 29th)...

And after all that waiting, and a labor and delivery I'm still processing (though rest assured it was very good and happy and healthy overall...just very, very intense in a way I could not have anticipated...)--which is why this is a picture post as opposed to a reflection post--this happened...

NOTE: The above infomation is intentionally embedded in an image, as opposed to typed out in the blog post itself (and thus is, in theory, not searchable on the public web). A request to my readers who leave comments: On this blog, please refer to my little one by her blog-tastic nickname (lol), Rosebud <3 I wanted to include this information though (in the screen shot above), for those of you who are the praying kind and would like to keep our little one in your prayers by name. Also, now you can see the significance of her patronal feast day (last Wednesday) as well as the wild flower I pictured above :)

Wasn't sure if I'd include a shot of her face
on the blog, but...I couldn't resist. Just one :) (for now lol)
What a beauty, if I may say so myself...

And then, last night, there was this...

Love <3

For now, this is all I have the energy to share. More to come as I am able. But thank you to my humble readership, for all of your thoughts and prayers these past weeks. 

Welcome, Rosebud. We've been waiting for you. :)

Full Term Nesting (in photos)

When asked when my baby is due, I have been sharing the first due date our doctor gave us: July 23rd, nine months to the day after our wedding day (but who's counting?). However, at a later appointment our doctor changed it to July 25th, which is what is in my doctor's file/chart as my due date. Is there much of a difference? No, not at all--Rosebud will kick me into labor when she is good and ready. My "due date," then, for all practical purposes, is sometime that week of July 23rd/25th.

I share all this because, going by the later date, yesterday (July 4th) my baby reached full term. My 37th week began, which means Rosebud is developed enough where, if I go into labor from here on out, since I have had an uncomplicated pregnancy (thank God) my doctor will not do anything to stop it. So, even though I have another two and a half weeks or so until she is due, I'm doing my very best to get things ready for her before then. Which means: Nesting!

This past weekend my mom came into town to help me get the house more ready for the baby than it had been. Mostly this meant helping me clean, since bending down to reach the floor is beyond my capabilities now. But it also meant helping me get Rosebud's room in order. We got so much done, and I am so pleased with how the nursery looks now. 

Then, last night another nesting attack hit me. You see, yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting two adorable, very young babies--one was only 9 hours old (Yay, Isidore!)--and I think seeing little babies on this side of the womb made me want to go "get ready" for little Rosebud some more. Last night, the task at hand was packing for the hospital, but I also had some odds and ends in her room to finish up. The result? I was up until later than 3 am (I won't say how much later...) nesting away. It's a good thing I work an evening shift...and yes, I am still working full time. So far, there's been no reason for me not to. Working in an air conditioned, quiet library is a much better choice for me right now than remaining home, anxiously awaiting labor to begin. 

But now, the main point of today's post: sharing the fruits of my labor (well, my labor-before-the-true-labor, ha) in photos (with commentary, of course...compare to pictures of the nursery from a month ago): 

Crib with freshly laundered bedding :)
Safety bumper still needs to be installed though

Diaper changing station (with storage boxes filled with
clean onesies and other essentials) and bookshelf
(sans books--they're coming though!
Still need to transfer my children's book collection
from the master bedroom where it currently lives)

Glider, nursing pillow, handy coffee table: aka, "Mama's Corner" :)

Fold out couch, A/C unit (VERY exciting, that),
and yes, those are partially packed bags for the hospital,
for me and baby :)

Dresser, atop which are various wall hangings that need to be hung,
which is filled with freshly laundered little girl's clothes (so adorable!)

And this is Rosebud's cradle, located in our room,
which is where she will be sleeping when she first comes
home from the hospital

And one more for good measure: here's me at 37 weeks,
next to an icon of my patron saint, the Theotokos,
which I wrote/painted (under the guidance of a
master iconographer) a few years ago :)
By her prayers I hope to have a safe, healthy delivery!

While there is always more to do, I can happily say that we are as ready as we can be for Rosebud's arrival, whenever she chooses to make her appearance! C'mon sweet girl, we're waiting for you!

Edit: It occurred to me that I'd be remiss if I didn't thank all of the dear ones in our life--family and friends--who have gifted us with so many things for Rosebud. Without your generosity, we would not be nearly as "ready" as we are at present to bring her home to an environment that is warm, secure and beautiful. Our heartfelt thanks go out to all of you, from me and Paul.

Looking Up

What happens when you're 35 weeks pregnant and getting over being sick? And yet still finding yourself quite busy? A post from the (hidden) archives! As I described in a post some months ago, I have in "draft" form a handful of vignettes I wrote a few years back about the stars and why I love them. It's a series of posts I do intend to see to its conclusion, even if they seem a little out-in-left-field when they appear. The last time I shared one such post was back in April. And of late I've been reflecting on how I plan to share this love with my little one when she arrives next month. And so, as these thoughts percolate in my ever-nesting mind, here is my next post in this series...

***

Image courtesy of NASA and ESA / Hubble Space Telescope

The house I grew up in is on a hill. While there is some ambient light from the nearby towns, on a clear night the stars are quite visible in our yard. When I still lived there, one of my favorite moments of every day was after dark, during the walk from the car to my front door. Since I grew up in this house, I knew the path very well: walk down the driveway, take one step up onto the patio, walk another five paces and then walk up four steps to our porch. I could do the walk with my eyes closed, which was a good thing because on this walk, every time...

I looked up.

Even if the sky was not clear, I'd still attempt to penetrate the cloud cover with my vision and imagine the stars hidden behind. On clear nights I just soaked in the view. Partly cloudy nights were my favorite though, because I had about fifteen paces to search out and grab with my eyes as many of the stars as I could. It was a game we played, the stars and I.

And now, looking back on it, I think it's safe to say that I always won, whether I saw many stars on my short walk or not. I say this because, in retrospect, these playful attempts to seek out the stars amid the clouds, and my insistence to myself that they were there just beyond the cloud cover whether I could catch them or not, were the real reward.

Naming Our Home

My husband and I first encountered our home last year. We were engaged and planning our wedding for later in the year, and Paul drove the two hours to come see me in Scranton every other weekend or so. (The alternate weekends I drove to see him.) When he was in town, our Monday morning route (before Paul set off for home) from my apartment to my favorite coffee shop took us past the house that would eventually become our home, which at the time was "For Sale By Owner." It is a Victorian house, built in 1870, which had been lovingly and painstakingly restored by its then-owners. It was that exciting time in our relationship when we were dreaming of our future life together, and in the midst of that hopeful time (where nothing seemed too far out of reach, within our natural sense of reason), we started to imagine what it might be like to someday call that Victorian house our home. At some point, we decided on a whim to phone the number on the "For Sale By Owner" sign, in order to arrange to view the inside.

But here's the kicker, and the reason I'm telling this story starting from before we bought the house: before seeing the inside (and thus, before we had reached a true decision to actually pursue the house as one we'd like to own), we named it. This is significant for folk like me and my Paul. I grew up on Anne of Green Gables and the subsequent volumes in the series, and right there in the title of the first story you can see that Anne lived in a time and place where the naming of places mattered. Take a look at the titles of the other Anne books, and you'll have an idea of how the name of a place can reflect its character (and the character of those living in that place):

1. Anne of Green Gables (a home)
2. Anne of Avonlea (a town)
3. Anne of the Island (referring to Prince Edward Island)
4. Anne of Windy Poplars (a home)
5. Anne's House of Dreams (a home)
6. Anne of Ingleside (a home)
7. Rainbow Valley (a locale near Ingleside, named thus by Anne's children)
8. Rilla of Ingleside (the same home as volume 6; Rilla is Anne's daughter)

As you can see, other than the second and third volumes in the series, every novel is characterized by a place that has been named by its inhabitants. There's something magical about this. As for my husband, if I am someone who absorbed this ethos through the stories I read, Paul just is the kind of person who would want to name his home someday. It's innate to who he is, and one of the things I love deeply about him. 

So, last year when we first encountered it, we named the Victorian house we found ourselves utterly enchanted with, without having seen the inside yet. I knew it was emotionally dangerous to do so, since we had no idea if it would ever be our home, and naming the place bound it to our hearts. But, put simply, we just couldn't help ourselves. The house practically named itself, in our view, so calling it by its name in conversation with each other just seemed natural--we couldn't help it, so we didn't bother trying. 

Jumping ahead to the present, God blessed us and rewarded our emotional risk of naming the house without knowing it would ever be ours, because it did in fact become our home later that year. We knew from the get-go that we wanted to hang a sign on the front of the house, bearing its proper name, but we also wanted to do it right (and not sloppily), which meant it would take some time to get to.

Which brings me to the true purpose of this post... Paul found the time this week to finally adorn our home with its name, just above the front doors, and I am so smitten by it I simply had to share it.

Welcome to Greenvale :)