Oh, the Irony of it All!
In case you were wondering, Miles never just sits bottom-to-seat in his high chair. Come mealtime, he has either perched himself on one of the arms of his chair (above left picture), leaned forward onto the tray (above right) making proximity to food that much closer, or, if we're sitting around the dining table, he is making a human bridge between his chair and the table, while I'm feeding him, praying he doesn't fall and securing him with an arm grip (bottom left). And despite our attempts to securely fasten him into the chair via the strap that came with the chair, he fenagles his way out of it every time. I'm too busy feeding the two other mouths to hold him in sitting position. So, he eats in these various positions, and once in a while, like today, he falls out of his high chair. Tack it on to the situation here, where every second of the day someone is either crying, falling, hitting, scratching, biting, ripping, breaking, or pooping, and we have ourselves one happy little KOA. It's intense and ironic at the same time.
It's ironic because I'm now carrying another little one to add to the mix. "What was I thinking?" pops into my head a little more often than I'd like to admit. But, the strange thing is that several months ago when I was tinkering with the idea of another sweet babe, I felt like I had about as much of a handle on taking care of my kids as I would ever have, so I might as well get going on the family plan (I've always wanted 5 or 6 kids).
So, back to the irony. I keep telling myself that several months ago I also wasn't nauseous ALL DAY LONG and tired as a sick puppy. By 4 PM I'm ready to call it a night and hit the hay. And, then I think about Spring coming maybe, someday, eventually, to these parts, and I can handle the thoughts of afternoons spent outside instead of cooped up watching endless Netflix episodes of Dora the Explorer.
And then the thought keeps coming into my head of Eve and how she said it was better to go through sorrow to know the good, or something to that effect. Yes, three in the afternoon is the lowest of lows for me, but then tonight when Miles was nuzzling his head into my neck and babbling, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. It was like he was sending me a feeling thank-you, not a written or verbal one, for being his Mom. Oh, the irony!
So, to sum this narrative up, I feel like I'm at the end of my rope alot of the time (add to that equation sick kids, too) but I also have so many moments of joy and gratitude. Life is worth living. Kids are worth having, and cherishing. There is so much beauty all around, even in the endless overcast winter days of Cleveland, and the endless dishes, laundry, and spills. I have to keep reminding myself of this or I get lost in self-pity and doubt. It's all going to work out.
Reading about Eve and her role has helped me see my role and this pregnancy in a positive light. Here's an excerpt of one of my favorite's on Eve (in addition to birthing children, I think this applies to carrying and raising children):
"God tells Eve what she will experience as she embraces her destiny to be the mother of all the living as she complies with his command to multipy and replenish the earth."
The Father's language on its face seems very harsh: "I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception. In sorrow thou shalt bring forth children." (Note that he does not say in thy conception but and thy conception, a blessing that there may be many children."
The Hebraic word for "sorrow" is astav, meaning "to labor," "to sweat," or "to do something very hard." God did not mean that childbirth would be a cause for sadness. What God seems to be alerting Eve to is that in mortality childbirth will be very difficult; that in childbirth she will sweat and toil and there will be pain. To "multiply" does not mean to add to or increase; in this context it means to repeat over and over again, such as saying multiple words in repititious prayers."
The Father is not cursing or causing pain to be inflicted on Eve; he is making her aware that her newly mortal body will experience pain in the process of childbirth, a pain that will come and go and repeat itself many times."
"Mother Eve, Mentor for Today's Woman: A Heritage of Honor," Beverly Campbell, 1993.
(And that last picture is of Miles after he'd had a bath and was dressed in his pajamas, but decided to go in for a second dip).