Tonight I tricked you into falling asleep on the floor. Which, technically, could mean that I tricked you into sleeping by yourself... See, I don't really wanna give up sleeping with you quite yet because...well there's just nothing to say but I'm just used to you--you're a human teddy bear, only a l i v e and all your little kicks and idiosyncrasies while you sleep are quite nice...when I'm ready to sleep...but alas, I am not ready to sleep at 7:30, as you most definitely are. So, tonight, instead of insisting you fall asleep on the bed and then feeling hyper-paranoid every minute after leaving the room that you might fall off AND after laying with you for over 30 minutes, I decided we'd try the floor. I had already created a spot, incidentally, for you to play on earlier, with your blankets. So, I could let you fall asleep there and not worry about you rolling off the bed, I decided. We relocated and I closed the door almost all the way (I think the real culprit to your sleep up to this point in the night had been the light outside the room) and you fell asleep pretty quickly, nursing with both of us laying there. Now, which of us will join whose bed later tonight is yet to be determined.

Milestone #2, or #1 if we're being chronological: On our way to Jay, to pick up Daddy's medicine, You rode in a front-facing carseat! Don't tell the police, though, cause I think you're missing 2 of the 22 pound requirement. You were tickled. And we ate unhealthy Little Debbie 'granola' bars on the way back home from. Though we dreaded the trip, it turned out to be quite lovely for us both--just you and me, fall leaves, and high fructose corn syrup! You laughed at me every time I turned around to look at you. I almost wish I hadn't given you the granola bar, though, just to see how much attention you might pay to the scenery and such.

You also started army-crawling in the tub tonight. Not afraid. You've been army crawling and even a little regular crawling on carpet for awhile, now, but never in the tub. And every chance you get--up against the treadmill, the back of the couch, wherever, you get up on your legs and stand on your feet, while holding on. I believe this is officially "Pulling Up" but it seems like you're more "Pushing Up"... You're very giggly and have like 6 teeth and I'm sorry I always sound in a hurry, I always feel in a hurry these days. Not sure why.

Six Months of Life Post-Utero Today!

You've spent every morning for the past two weeks in the double jogging stroller with your brother and your legs have taken on the color of Maple Syrup. Which goes nice with their 'buttery' texture, as Joanna once said of your skin. Today you are six months. Six months ago, around this time (4pm) we were arriving at the W.W. Hastings hospital, where I agonized for four and a half hours more until you were born at 8:31 p.m. I didn't want to lay down. I didn't want to stand. I wanted to hang my arms around your daddy's neck and die...and then you were on my tummy and looking up at me, scared as I was, and we clung to each other to stay warm. We still do. I just snuck out of the room after nursing you to sleep...usually I succumb to the oxytocin-induced sleep and you provide the one segment of rest for my day, but today, I had so much on my mind, so much to feel like I should do and probably still won't get done, that I snuck away. I have recently wanted to describe the sweetness of sleeping with you--it's so much more than 'convenient' although to avoid questions, that's how I usually describe it. It is possibly the most precious time of my day, having your perfect little body facing mine, between my arm and my bent legs, your legs resting on mine as they will one day dangle from a park bench, and your one arm either playing with your ear or covering your eye or flung behind you, my hand usually tucked under your side...just a glimpse of the rightness of it all..

well, enough of the mushy stuff--daddy's dressing you in your polka-dot sundress I've looked forward to putting on you since Cathy Flack gave it to you--6-9 mos--so we can go celebrate Fowler-style: dinner and soft serve ice cream at Barnett's! Your brother got chocolate for the first time on his six month birthday...sadly, we have slipped you some already in recent visits. "How's that? I don't know where you put bows. She looks 80s." Your dad just carefully placed your first bow in your hair(s) and we'll see how long it lasts...I think you look more 40's. Hopefully we'll get some photos of the whole messy event...

you are all smiles and so squishy and hold-able right now. i just love laying with you a little longer in the mornings and feeling your soft little thighs. so pretty. 0-3 mos are finally fitting ok, but still a little loose, depending on the brand. i love you in just a onesie and socks. yay that summer's coming! i sat and nursed you on the porch yesterday afternoon and i look forward to the rest of the summer's activities with you!

lovely you

just want to let you know i've noticed some things about you...on this 2 month, 2 week birthday of yours...

You have more hair, and it appears to be much darker than your brother's...more like mine than Daddy's.

You look great in bright colors like magenta and orange and lime green. and I love you in polka dots and stripes--not necessarily at the same time, though :) But most of your outfits are chosen quickly and randomly as you are still too small for the majority of your clothes. The last we checked you are 8 pounds and some ounces, and the clothes (and diapers) that fit you best are the ones labeled NB for newborn. But, yay, you're done with "Preemie"!

Your eyes just might be more hazel than brown

You are extremely expressive--you love smiling back and forth and can do it even from a couple feet away--and you make these sweet "Oh"s that start in the back of your throat and then close your eyes and then open them back up wide, along with your mouth as if to say "Now, what are you going to say?" You don't mind playing this game with most people, but I'm kinda proud that when you hear my voice, even if someone else has you, you look for me and find me pretty quickly.

You have a super-cute dimple right under your left eye, really high up...I hope it stays.

I love your little toes and feet. I like to hold your foot while nursing...

You play with your ear while nursing. You cup your fingers around the top.

You're really not that into me talking or singing to you (and definitely not anybody else!) while nursing.

You don't look up much while nursing, until you get pretty full and start getting all smiley and wriggly and content at the same time. Sometimes you just fall asleep smiling for a minute and I LOVE THIS!!!

I love sleeping with your tiny body breathing in time with mine and I think its time we do that now.

A Person's a Person, No Matter How Small

Today, we (you, me, and Anderson) made a trip back to Tahlequah to have you weighed. Your doctor was a bit concerned last time and wanted to make sure you were getting enough to eat. When you were born, you weighed 6.07 pounds and were 17.5" long. Then, by the time we left the hospital, you were down to 5 pounds, 11 oz. And then, last Tuesday, at around 3 weeks, you were back up to 6 pounds, 4 oz and today you were 6 pounds 8 oz!! For a breastfeeding mamma, this is a relief to hear. He said breastfed babies typically take two weeks to regain their birth weight, so you're pretty much on target. Good job, babe! Keep up the good work (by which I mean, eating...which you are currently doing! And you have the hiccups...you get them almost every time I feed you and I have yet to learn if this is preventable or not.
You seem to really love having your eyebrows stroked. You close your eyes and do these little 1-second smiles...
You did not like the trip today...I cannot necessarily assume that once I have you in a car you will succumb to sleep from now on. You cried almost the whole way back home and only stopped momentarily under the following circumstances: gravel roads, "Small Town" by John Cougar Mellencamp (I was desperately hitting Scan), and when I dipped my middle finger in my Diet 7up and let you suck on it for a second. The finger trick worked last Sunday on the way home from church--I let you suck on my middle finger for about 20 minutes, but your dad was driving then, making this much easier.
So far, my favorite outing with you has been Saturday's trip to Broadway Books. We found a seat in the back of the store and I got to read the first three chapters of "The Shack" and drink a (decaf!) Mocha while you nursed. Our first "Girls Day Out," it was. Then we visited Joni's little shop "Oh So Pretty" and sampled perfume and although you were asleep in the carrier, I think you would have really liked the place. Ok, let's go back to bed now...

Berea Abigail

sweet, baby girl...
i write to you in lower-case so as not to wake you. i will admit this is as much for my sake as it is for yours. you are adorably, peacefully sleeping at breast-level right now, on the "Boppy," a name for the type of pillow we breastfeeding mothers use these days. Apparently, you have lost a sock in the tussle of bringing my rocker w/ you and me in it over to the computer desk. you're wearing only a onesie along with this one sock and little pink baby-gap hat cocked lower toward one eye-brow, gangster style :) Your face is truly beautiful--both pale and pink at the same time--the color is indescribable but I could describe the texture by saying that its so satin-esque that it reflects light as if you were dusted w/ white-gold eyeshadow in all your crevaces. I noticed it very much on your neck yesterday.

this particular letter was supposed to tell you the story of your name. I couldn't resist starting by telling you how beautiful you are, though.

On the Saturday after you were born, around 7pm, your father and I decided you were Berea Abigail. You were born the Friday before at 8:31 p.m. That is another story entirely and not one I feel you should hear as my premier words to you, at least recorded. Many have been spoken over you in your short, 22 days of life, but the one that has seemed to make you smile the most is simply "Berea." So we will start there.

On the ride to the hospital, 42.6 curvy, lurching 40-mile-an-hour miles of breath-holding and squeezing the shirt handles above the seat, your Father and I both considered the name Berea. Without telling the other. So, on Saturday, after poring over our lists and the Name Your Baby book, I just threw it out there: "I considered the name Berea on the way here...you know, like the Berean church?" and your dad said, "I thought of that too, on the way here..." So. That's how you were named. Simple as that. We love it and think it sounds pretty, too, but the truth is, The Holy Spirit of God named you. How cool is that? And as for, Abigail, here's how that went...although we had pretty much settled on Berea, without saying it, we weren't sure yet of your middle name. I have consistently liked "A" names. Your dad said "Abigail" kept catching his eye in the Name Your Baby book the nurses had lent us (after you were born). This book said the meaning of Abigail is "My Father is Joy" and once I read that, I knew that was to be your name. And the reason is linked to an entirely different scripture, which I felt during my pregnancy, was the scripture God spoke strongest to me concerning you: Zephaniah 3:17.
I felt God spoke that concerning you every time I heard the verse, whether being sung or read. Your Father knew you, knew you were even a daughter, before we did. We actually didn't find out you were a girl until February 4, two days before you were born! We, meaning your dad, wanted to be surprised. Or so WE thought :). But on that day, your dad finally got off work in order to come with me to our prenatal visit and during the ultrasound, I looked at him and asked if he had any questions for the nice lady and he said, "We can find out." I was ecstatic and then absolutely giddy when we learned you were to be our daughter. Our first daughter. Gone were my fears of comparing you with your brother, whether I'd love you the same as I'd loved him, whether I would take you for granted since I'd experienced such sweetness with him. The Lord knew I needed someone completely Other to mother and delight in. The other reason I loved naming you Abigail was that it was apparent that your dad was absolutely in love with you from the moment I saw him with you. With Anderson, he cried, and I believe it was a deep, satisfying sentence he spoke when he said, "IT's A BOY!" but when you were born, he just couldn't stop smiling. He handed you to me but was more than ready when it was his turn again. I had been holding you with him hovering above and when I finally thought to ask him if he wanted to hold you, he said, "Well, yeah! I just didn't want to take her from you." He is holding you now as a matter of fact. This afternoon, we were all out at a restaurant and I needed him to hold you a minute while I got settled in to breastfeed you while we were there. When he handed you to me, your eyes remained locked to his face, your mouth making a sweet "ooooo" and he, again, couldn't stop smiling. It's a smile reserved just for you--I don't think I've even won such vulnerable happiness that he shares with you. You've brought such delight to our family, to your family, Berea. Even your little 17 month old brother can't get enough of you. He calls you B-rah. He wants to come find you as soon as he wakes up in the morning. I change his diaper and then he sits up and starts pointing into the living room, saying B-rah?? B-rah??? and then runs into the living room looking for you. When he arrives he points, and eventually lays his rather large head somewhere on your tiny little body. He's actually picked you up once, which I am ashamed to admit. I was washing a dish or something and left him watching Winnie the Pooh and came in to him picking you up, looking rather guilty. He promptly dropped you when he saw me (not the effect I was going for) but I couldn't blame him because I had involutarily screamed at him the moment I arrived on the scene. You were unharmed, although you let us know how unhappy you were with being handled by a One-Year old. I promise I've been a much more vigilant mother since then :) I love you so and look forward to recounting many more of my observations of you...