A New Page

For those that have visited this space over the years, you know that one of the (only) times I reliably post an update here is in the days leading up to the birth of one of our children. This late autumn evening is yet another one of those times. We find ourselves in the weekend following Thanksgiving, which fell late this year. December will begin on Monday and in the days that follow, our family will grow to include a new member — our fourth child and second daughter, whom we plan to name Rasa.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

The final days and weeks of pregnancy are always somewhat anxiety-ridden for me. The discomfort of full term sets in, as does the frenetic push to identify and finish what is important before the family grows, the rhythm of daily life is changed and the needs of a newborn become paramount. I have always had a strong nesting instinct in pregnancy, an urge which at times drives me and all around me a little mad. These twin pressures — on the body and on the heart — can make the final stage of pregnancy feel burdensome at times.

This is likely the last time I will have this experience. I have said before that it is an honor, and while that may sound trite, I can think of no better word for it. I know there are many who wish to experience this process and cannot or do not, and those who may have wished to do so more times than they were able. I am so very fortunate. Moreover, as others have observed before me, it is not often as parents, or in life, that we are able to know that we are encountering something for the last time. The fact of that is often only revealed in retrospect. I am using this awareness as my touchstone in these final days. There is part of me that is not at all ready to move past this stage of life, this time of newborns and babies and toddlers, of promise and wonder, wrapped as it might be in noise and mess and chaos.

But it is time. Since we began on this parenting journey more than six years ago, with the birth of Jonas, we have been building a family, one that we are now days from completing. It is time to do so, to gather all our babies in our arms and greet a New Year all together. It's time to move forward to the next stage, when we are raising this brood and building the life that will allow us to do that.

Rasa, we await your arrival. Your brothers and sister have known about you for months now and the excitement to make your acquaintance is nearly boiling over.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

Your oldest brother, Jonas, has vivid memories of your sister Nida's birth; he fully understands how our family will grow with your addition and he couldn't be more excited. He wants to help care for you and has Big Plans for all that he wants to teach you. In him, you will find a buoyant, kind soul who has boundless inquisitive interest and energy for life. He will be your guide, your role model, your Big Brother, and he will relish every bit of it.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

Your brother Silas, meanwhile, will be your protector. Si runs at life with abandon; his fears are few and far between. He, too, is inquisitive, though in a less verbal way than his big brother. He is also very observant, curious and capable. And while he may seem to be in his own world — and often is — you will also find that he is more tuned in than you know. When you want a friend to be engrossed in a game or an activity with you, Silas will happily be your partner. His has a love of the present hat so few of us can manage, and sense of humor that keeps us all grinning. I hope he retains these abilities and can continue to share them with you and your siblings for the rest of your lives.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

With your birth, Nida will transition from the youngest sibling into a big sister. Although she cannot fully grasp where you are now and what your addition to our lives will mean, she is sincere in her excitement — as she is with so much of life. Nida is a combination of her brothers — the cerebral intelligence of Jonas mixed with the goofy playfulness of Si. She will love the role of big sister, and while she adores her brothers, I think she will quickly find the pleasure of having a sister to share her life with, as well. In learning how to be an older sibling, she can have asked for no better role models than Jonas and Si.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

In the coming weeks, you will have two parents caring for you day in and day out, but your daddy will be a constant figure. In March of this year, he and I began a new part of our journey as partners and as parents — putting our efforts fully into our own business in order to create our livelihood. This has meant that your father has also become the primary parent during the workweek, shuttling your brothers and sister to various activities, teaching them school at home, creating the household's daily rhythm and caring for the homestead's needs as well.

When you are curled up in a carrier in a month, asleep in the late afternoon while dinner is being prepared, it is daddy's chest upon which you will have your head. You are one lucky, lucky little girl.

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

As for me, you are my last baby. Yours is the last birth that I will anticipate. When you are drawn out and held up before me, it will be a moment of awe that will echo backward in time to the births of each of your siblings, but it is not a moment I will have again. Each of your firsts will also be my lasts, and that knowledge will at times be a heavy one to bear.

And yet, as the last baby, you also have the opportunity to complete our family. You gain a household of five people who can't wait to meet you, to help you, to love and care for you. Soon we will hold you. We will know your face and voice; we will know your presence and smile. Your personality will unfold slowly — a magical flower that will awe us with each revealing petal.

Thank you for joining us, for filling the role you will step into. I promise to celebrate all your firsts, even when a little corner of my heart twists with the duality of my lasts. There must always be a last. I am so grateful that for me, it is you.

Love,

Mommy

Image by Sarah Cramer Shields

A New Year

It has been nearly a year since I've been present in this space. Since February 2013, much has changed for our family, and I'm grateful to say most of that change has been positive. My business, Fine Lines Editing, quadrupled in size over the course of 2013, with several new clients and a wealth of new work, including my first published book.

The last year has been a truly transformative one. Our family went from having one parent working outside the home and one working part-time in the home to two parents with full-time jobs. I have been very fortunate to be able to remain home-based, which has given me the opportunity to spend every afternoon with the kids, and to be present as needed during their mornings with their (incredible) sitter (though honestly, when she is here, I am often chopped liver). But this change has meant a lot of work at night and on the weekends, which in turn has meant that for much of 2013, the rhythm of family life felt uneven, lurching from one day to the next as we tried to keep things as even-keeled as possible for the kids — an effort that was at times successful and at times a complete flop — and tried to master new roles and skills ourselves.

In the year that has passed since I was last here, our children have grown. I've always heard that parenting gets easier (perhaps temporarily?) when you start to have children age 5 and above, and from what I can see that rings with truth. Jonas has become a steady, helpful little guy who is just as smart and observant as ever, with that kind, gentle heart I so cherish. Yes, we call him Steve Jobs due to his uncompromising opinions and stringent standards, but he also keeps us honest, so those standards aren't all bad.

Silas came through the twos with a fair amount of grace, and while he still has the vestiges of toddlerhood about him — Silas, please pick up. Silas: Please! Pick! Up! ... Silas! ...Where is Silas? —he is becoming more aware of the larger world all the time and continues to show an uncanny awareness in the mechanics of life.

And Nida. What an incredible little person she is turning out to be. At 16 months and counting, we're already deep in the rebellion and chaos of the early toddler years, but one is no sooner astounded by her tenacity and bullheadedness, then impressed by her ability to understand everything around her. I mean, this kid has been accurately answering yes-or-no questions since she turned a year old. And let's not even talk about the fine motor skills. *shutter*

2013 was a year that showed us how fortunate we are. Look at these children. Look at this family we're  raising. Look at this incredible community in which we live, these marvelous people who support us and collaborate with us and cheer us on. I feel like we ran at 2013 with our arms flung open, full tilt, and it bear-hugged us right back.

Not every year is like that. We've had hard ones. 2009 (aka The Year of Murphy's Law) comes to mind. And there will be others. I'm also keenly aware that 2013 was full of difficulties and sorrow for several people that I love. The disparity in their experience of the year and mine is not lost on me. I am grateful — deeply, abidingly grateful —for the experience of the last year, and will do my best to remember it in years that are not as kind.

And here we stand, our shadows long across a new year. We have many plans. Our little homestead is ready for some evolution, and a greenhouse and beehives and expanded gardens are all on tap, with some side conversations about ducks and goats as well. After months of flirting with homeschool, it is time to get down to the work in earnest, and we are on the cusp of beginning that journey — wherever it might lead.

Perhaps the greatest challenge of 2014 is going to be refining the growth and promise of last year into a rhythm that better meets all our needs. There is a lot of discussion happening about that, too.

As with each year, I am hopeful I can make this space a part of my life. I find it difficult (unnatural?) to blog. My inner writer and editor are at such odds in this kind of a forum, and yet I recognize the opportunity this medium gives me to record, and to share, our journey. At this point in time, in these early days of the year, that is my hope.

Greetings 2014. Let's do this. Let's try.

First born

He seems so big these days, but sometimes I catch a glimpse of the baby I knew. He used to carry these animals with him everywhere.

12 weeks

This is my new baby, who is somehow now 12 weeks + 1 day old. Meaning that she is no longer a newborn; she is instead an infant, gaining velocity and knowledge every moment.

I have now shepherded three children from that magical existence in the womb through those delicate first weeks and into babyhood. And as much as I have tried to savor it, like pregnancy, the sharp memory of it quickly fades – no matter how you try to hang on.

And yet. That sadness, that melancholy, it is displaced every day by the smile. By getting to know this new person, which I could never do if she stayed a newborn. And so: I am thankful.

The glamour of the home-based office.

A good day

Some days just work out. The baby sleeps when she's supposed to; the boys don't fight too much. I'm able to feed everybody in relatively good time, and keep the house somewhat picked up. Those are good days, and when they happen I feel so much hope.

These are the days that make parenting seem possible, enjoyable, almost sane. It is these days that leave me to wanting to have 10 million babies. Luckily, they are balanced out by days that make an argument for the exact opposite.

The state of the kitchen table is usually a good indicator of the kind of day we've had here. So, today was a good day:

Zzz

Babies are each so different. It is often said, but even more often true. Jonas fell asleep in my arms, with his head resting on my shoulder, exactly one time when he was an infant. It is Nida's absolute preference. Not nursing. Not rocking. Not in a carrier or cradled in my arms.

This.