My Heart's at Home Daybook~The New Normal

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Outside My Window ...I can hear children at the bus stop and traffic bustling by, but all I can see are the rooftops of the houses across the street and the very tops of a redbud tree.
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Towards a daily rhythm ... My goodness!We're working out the kinks. Elusive rhythm has been the challenge of the past few days since returning home from the hospital. Thanks to the generosity of my friends, I think we have a schedule of help in place. I've long been a proponent of going TO children in order to get them to obey or to listen. I'm not a call them to me type at all. That's changing due to our circumstances and I  definitely think the go-to-them method is far better. I like to be alongside them and I think it makes all the difference in both relationships and outcome. Going to them also allows for inspection of anything I expected them to do. My children are just ordinary sinners--inspection is crucial. They are also in crisis. Poor Nicholas doesn't want to go apple picking because he doesn't want to come home with all those apples and "not work with Mom in the kitchen to make all the stuff. It won't be fun without Mom." Karoline's entire world revolved around my holding and carrying and nursing her. Now, Karoline and Mary Beth share a world and it's a strange, new one for both of them.  As I said, we're working out the kinks.
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I am thankful for ...the generous outpouring of friends who are helping Mike and me to care for our home and family and the friends who are too far away to help daily but have found creative ways to send help and made time in their own busy lives for encouraging e-mails and phone calls.
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From the kitchen ...
 I haven't seen much of the kitchen these days...but the kitchen is dedicated to birthday and feast day goodies this week.
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To live the liturgy...
Our week of super celebrating .
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I am wearing ... a Laura Ashley nightshirt my Mom gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago, a medal necklace I made with the Miraculous medal, St. Therese, a scapular medal, and St. Gerard.. 
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I am creating ...a St. Anne chaplet, rosaries for my girls, and a new rosary for me. Have the beads, but still waiting for a few parts. I'm also making chaplets for the everyone in the family for the St. Andrew Christmas prayer.
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I am going to breathe deeply ...This is the exercise note. Hmmm. Christian is going to bring three pound weights up from the basement so that maybe I can work my upper body a bit. I'm drawing alphabet letters in the air with my feet, mostly to entertain my toddler and keep from getting blood clots. I lost five pounds in the hospital. I 'm fairly certain that's all the muscle I had managed to build between this pregnancy and the last. Perhaps the spring will see blog entries dedicated to returning one's body from absolute jello-ness.
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Bringing beauty to my home ...Today's project is my bedroom. In all my earnestness to have the house in order should I be on bed rest, I never gave a moment's thought to the fact that I'd be stuck happily ensconced here for hours on end. I ordered some candles from Trish and some new sheets. Megan and I will brainstorm some other ideas.
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I am reading  ... these meditations every day. And this stack.
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I am hoping ... to get through the next few weeks without sinning against faith, hope, or love.
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Around the house ...  I am assured that everything is neat and tidy and in order. I'm highly skeptical.
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One of my favorite things ...My sweet baby rolling and kicking in my belly. There is nothing in the world more comforting.
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A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:  The perinatologist. Then, the Ashwells are coming to co-op on Thursday and Nicholas' godmother is going to take everyone apple picking on Friday.
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Here is a picture thought I am sharing~
 
   
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It was crucial to figure out a way to eat dinner as a family. I have a couple of children, in particular, for whom the deviation from family routines has been very, very difficult. So, we threw a blanket on my bedroom floor and carefully set the places in the same order as they would be on the table. We gave it its first try on Sunday night when Michael was home to celebrate his birthday. This is my view from the bed. Michael took the picture.

Please visit Peggy for more Daybook entries.

Just Be Still And Do Nothing

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That's what they tell me as they wheel me into the room and bustle about getting me "settled."  Lie on the right side. No sitting. No bathroom. And really, no hands, as they are given to tubes and needles. Just be still.

But I can't do nothing. I've never been able to do nothing. So, I do something.

I pray--begging, pleading, and trying to still my thoughts and know that He is God.

I listen to the steady, rhythmic thump that assures me that my precious child is alive and safe within me for this moment in time.

I hear the words of the priest--of annointing, of absolution, of the gift of grace--real and present within me.

I smile at the generosity of a visitor who overcomes her own ghosts of hospitals past to bring me a bag of treats and the encouragement of someone who knows well the journey we are undertaking.

I imagine the cries of my toddler who, in my absence,  searches in vain for familiar comfort and who will never nurse again--and I weep.

I send an army of angels and saints to the three "big kids" at home who valiantly, cheerfully, and prayerfully care for their little siblings.

I laugh with friends in Louisiana and Florida who call to read me assurances of prayers and who insist they can organize volunteers from near and far. And they do.

I am astonished by reports of competent, holy women who sweep into my house and run it better than I do.

And I wait  for him. Because when he walks through the door, I feel safe. When he is with me, my whole world looks different. This baby is his. And so are the other eight he is so mightily supporting. And so am I. I saw the brief look of fear when I came to him, blood-stained and scared. And I know how hard he is working to never, ever let it cross his face again. I see him, exhausted and torn in a million directions. But he doesn't bow under the weight. Instead, he stands taller. He is here.

(Nearly) perfect love, come to cast out fear. I want so desperately to come alongside and help in this crisis as I have in every other. By doing. By holding and touching and connecting. And I can't. Because I am still. And only still.  We talk. We laugh. We hope. And in the night, when I cannot sleep, I pray. I pray for the strength and grace he will need.

We will need.

Tips for Mommy

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A Note from Colleen:

As many of you know from Patrick's indication here, Elizabeth has spent the past couple of days in the hospital convincing her little one to stay put for a while.

As long as the morning progresses smoothly, she'll be home late today with orders for complete and total bedrest for the duration of this pregnancy.

She is asking for those of you have traveled this journey before to share your tips, wisdom, and encouragement here, so I am opening comments for her.  Let's make sure all advice is positive and upbeat for Mom and keep to advice specifically for making a long duration of bedrest easier. 

Elizabeth thanks you all for your prayers and kindness and looks forward to benefitting from your wisdom.