Auntie Jess

My grandparents are coming into town later this week. I can't wait to see them! Alas, that means I have a lot to do today. Mainly laundry. I think I am just going to take all the bedding and dirty clothes to the laundromat and get it done at once. Once I get off the couch... But until then... I shall procrastinate.

Our friends Mike and Jessica had us over for grilling and Singstar karaoke last week. Jess is one person who just may take more pictures than Wesley. I love that she has her camera around at all times and am grateful for the fun pictures she has shared. She has captured my favorite belly pic so far. I also love that she has taken to calling herself Auntie Jess and is thrilled that we have a baby on the way. Her enthusiasm lifts my spirits when I feel like I've had enough of the vomiting, sleeplessness, nasal congestion, and litany of other not-so-fun pregnancy symptoms.

This is me and Jess watching the boys set up her pool. As she puts it, "We were helping"


Jessica insisted on the "I heart my tummy" photo. I didn't think I would like it, but I do. Thanks, Jess!



This is my favorite pregnancy picture so far. Check out that gut!


Jess and I wait for Baby DB to make himself known with a couple of ninja kicks. He did not disappoint and Jessica's excitement was simply awesome.



Meanwhile, Wesley and Mike serenade us with Singstar. I'm pretty sure this was when we got rick-rolled.

Life Outside of the Womb

Believe it or not I have done more than just brew a baby these past several months. For me, it has been the center of the universe- and gravity- but lot's of cool things have happened.

For one, Wesley has been working extremely hard on home improvement projects and I have been enjoying the benefits. I wish I could say I helped but I've been more on the 'moral support' side of things lately. Our kitchen is a different space from what it was when we bought the house. We painted the walls in October but otherwise it stayed pretty much the same until the past couple of months. One new dishwasher, one new disposal, five new upper cabinets where there were none before, crown moulding, and one fantastic light fixture- a gift from Wesley's mother- later and we have a good looking and functional kitchen on our hands.

*I can't find the pictures to post but will add them soon*

We have done a hefty amount of yard work in the front yard since we moved into the house. We pulled out all of the overgrown 'flowers' in the flower bed and planted 100 tulip bulbs. There was a hideous bush-tree right by the front door that I finally got fed up with and hack-sawed into oblivion one energetic day in March. I hated that tree. The root was so intense I finally just buried it and I am planning on putting a bird bath over the bald spot. We also added black shutters and painted the green door black.

Here is the yard before:


And here it is after (but before Wesley got our new lawn mower):



The car is my Dad's. He came to visit last week and we had a wonderful time. There are pictures on Facebook. There are too many to add here right now. We drove the Blue Ridge Parkway, took Rt. 9 to Lake Lure, stopped by Triple Falls, and had lots of tasty food. The best was the night Wesley and Dad grilled farmer's market veggies and steak. Even Molly got a taste!

I tried my best to convince Dad he needed to move up here and be Granddad. He even got a job offer! I think he enjoyed the scenery but all the talk about our awful winter we just had might have been just enough to keep him in Jackson. Regardless, we look forward to your next visit, Dad!

Baby DB

Top ten favorite humorous nicknames that have been bestowed upon the baby:

10. The parasite
9. Fetus
8. Dancing alien
7. Baby DB- or E.B.D.B. as Tabitha says
6. Critter
5. Plum
4. Peanut
3. Creature
2. He She It
1. Ninja Baby

Baby DB has been dancing up a storm for the past two days. I can feel movement all the time now. Wesley even got a 'hello' kick tonight. It's pretty awesome.

In other news, "ninja baby" brings up some pretty funny results in Google image search. I liked these gems:

The Preggo Card

I pulled the 'because I'm pregnant' card Thursday night. I HAD to do it. It was an emergency. I swear.

I worked Thursday and was surprisingly hungry when I got finished. When I'm THAT hungry, there isn't time to cook. I have been craving a gyro and domas from Jerusalem Garden for a couple of weeks now.

I make my way downtown, have a seat and realize there are no gyros on the dinner menu, just overpriced Greek/Mediterranean meals. I was not deterred. I asked my waitress very politely if she thought the cook would be willing to make me a gyro. She responded, 'That's on the lunch menu." As in "Um, no. I can't believe you even asked." So I said, "Not even for a pregnant woman?" with a big, sweet smile on my face. She said she would ask and the next time I saw her she had domas and a gyro for me. It took me a little while but I ate every last bit of that meal.

Eryn 1
Craving 0

The early weeks

It dawned on me recently that I never wrote about those precious two weeks when I was first pregnant. It was an exciting time full of internet searches like "early signs of pregnancy," "two week wait," and "really gassy, am I pregnant?"

Believe it or not, I suspected that I was pregnant within a day of it actually happening. At first it was just a hunch, a suspicion. A gut feeling, if you will. Then over the next two weeks my hormones let me know that something was definitely up.

The first major Ah Ha moment happened at Buffalo Wild Wings of all places. Wesley and I were chowing down, people watching, and talking about how I might be pregnant and when we could know for sure. I had been a little emotional leading up to this point but nothing outstanding. Then the All State commercial came on. I cried like a little baby. Boo-hoo, sniffle-sniffle-snort. Let me tell you something about me. I don't cry often. There has to be a darn good reason, and even then it's not a sure thing. I can't remember the last time I cried at a movie. And as much as I love books, not one has ever made me cry.

Go on, watch it. It's cheesy and maybe will pull at your heart strings a little bit, but if you started crying with abandon I've got two pregnancy tests left under my cabinet for you to use.

I looked at Wesley and said "If I'm not pregnant, something is really wrong with me." He may have been laughing too hard to hear me.

I waited patiently until a full two weeks had gone by before taking the test. This happened to be a Tuesday morning at around 6AM because I worked that day. When I did, I expected to see a plus sign immediately if there was going to be one. About three seconds later I looked at the window and said "Oh well." I proceeded with other things for a moment and when I looked again there was a bright blue plus sign, clear as day. Even though I had known for weeks, I couldn't believe it. Real proof! A real baby! My baby! About that time Wesley called from the bedroom "Well??" I couldn't even say it. I was speechless. I just ran and kind of pounced on him with a big grin on my face. It was dark, but I think I felt him grinning too.

Another funny restaurant experience happened at LoneStar- it was close and I wanted steak. My mixed vegetables that came with the steak were carrots and broccoli. The broccoli was tolerable but the carrots. Well, lets just say I haven't eaten carrots once since that night. I don't even want to see them. Something about carrots is just utterly appalling to me these days. After recovering from the carrots, I ate more of my meal. I didn't have much of an appetite the first trimester, even before the nausea came to town.

While we are eating, the waiters and waitresses all gather in the back and start clapping. The dreaded, obnoxious, chain-restaurant birthday song. I hate this tradition. It's so tacky and I loathed having to do it when I waited tables. So here they come... singing off key and off beat to some schmuck who made it around the sun one more time. Whoopie. Well, guess who starts crying? The pregnant lady. And guess who laughed his head off again, her husband. Can you imagine looking over and seeing a couple- one crying for no apparent reason and one laughing his head off? I bet we were a curious sight.

Wesley was a real trooper through the mood swings of the first trimester. Or rather, the personality swings, truth be told. They seem to have leveled off for the most part. I am sure Wesley is singing praises for that!

I will say one thing that Really gets me angry. I mean, really, really. If I am angry or frustrated, there is probably at least a kernel of a good reason at the root of it, especially now in my second trimester. Don't be like one of my coworkers and brush me off saying "Oh you're just hormonal." I'll show you hormonal! Nothing gets my goat more. Just because I'm pregnant does not mean I am incapable of genuine emotions. Take note. This is valuable advice for anyone who will ever be in the vicinity of a pregnant woman.

Elbows, knees, and toes

I went to the Urgent Care this morning. A very nice PA wiggled my leg around and asked me questions. Neither of us wanted to do an x-ray since radiation makes unborn children glow in the dark. He told me I probably have a torn meniscus (Tabitha's diagnosis last night) and that I should stay off of it for a week. He wants me to call Friday if it isn't better so he can get me in with an orthopedist. Hopefully, I will be better by then.

In other news, my night ended on quite a special note. As I was lying quietly in bed, before the nighttime sniffles started, I felt my baby move. Baby DB was just a-tossing and a-turning. I imagined the kid was doing flips saying "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, this is FUN!" It felt like a little ripple or flutter across my lower abdomen. I wonder if I was feeling dancing feet, or swinging arms, or maybe I was being head-butted for the second time in a day.

I also saw my baby in a dream last night. Baby DB had my eyes and Wesley's nose and mouth, soft blond hair, and was as sweet as an angel.

Sometimes, just when you feel like you've reached the end of your rope, life ties the knot for you.

How to Celebrate Easter Eryn-Style

Step 1: Puke in the shower.

Step 2: Dress purdy and go to church. Try furtively to get some curl in the hair. Look like Medusa with bangs.

Step 3: Get squeezed into a pew with too many people because it's SRO today. At least I got to sit by Wesley.

Step 4: Get nauseated due to the heat and stuffiness and bail in the middle of the renewal of baptismal vows. Drag poor husband along.

Step 5: Almost puke on the church steps but make it to the ladies' room instead.

Step 5.5: Nap.

Step 6: Have Easter brunch with non-Christian (and lovely and wonderful) friends, Wesley and some new folks.

Step 7: Make two planters for the front stoop with Wesley. Enjoy playing in the dirt.
















Step 8: Lounge in the sun.

Step 9: Take a family trip to the dog park.

Step 10: Have a dog take me out by running full-force into my knee. Get carried back to car in excruciating pain.

Step 10: Call occupational therapist friend (Thanks Tabitha!) for advice and avoid ER like the plague.

Step 11: Attempt to eat Mexican food, which has become Wesley's Sunday night craving. Enjoy chips and salsa, get grossed out by everything else.

Step 12: Get knee immobilizer, tell work I can't bear weight.

Step 13: Write blog.

Step 14: See if I can sleep with knee brace on.

It was a roller coaster of a day but I have so many wonderful memories of it too. I loved spending so much time with Wesley. The weather was amazing. And Alleluia Christ is risen!!

Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia! ~Because I can.

Holy Week

Yesterday I had a meeting with Bishop Taylor of the Episcopal Diocese of Western North Carolina. My priest Rev. Brian Cole and I went to announce to the bishop that I feel called to pursue a life of ordained ministry.

It felt good, and right, to say in a very official way "I want to be a priest. I have felt called to live my life for ministry in some form or fashion since I was a a young girl. Every time I go to church, I am distracted because all I can think during the service is 'I want to be up there, I want to serve communion.' I want to teach, love, and minister to God's people in the highs, lows, and mundanes of their lives."

Bishop Taylor responded by saying that he did feel like the Holy Spirit was moving in my life, but now is not the time to discern that call. He asked me to come see him after the baby is born and we will look at starting the process then. He stated (wisely, I think) that my life is changing and who I am now is not who I will be after the baby is born. He said I should focus on taking on the role of motherhood first and then we will look at the role of priesthood and how it fits into my life as wife and mother. I half expected this answer and was not shocked or disappointed. In fact, I left feeling very encouraged and at peace. Upon parting, the Bishop said something to the effect of "So I'll see you at the Maundy Thursday service tonight, right?" My answer, of course, was "Absolutely," regardless of any earlier intentions for my evening (which consisted of staying home and trying not to ralph, like all my other nights lately).

I've somehow missed Maundy Thursday services up until this point. I didn't know what to expect by I knew that it was going to be about the Last Supper. This appealed to me because communion has always been the part of the service that I enjoyed the most. I love the physical, visceral act of eating and becoming one with Christ and the Christian community. I could never feel completely at home at a church that did not celebrate communion at least every Sunday.

The service was beautiful and poignant. It brought home the fact that Jesus showed us that if He who is perfect is not too perfect to wash feet then how are we to say we are above even the dirtiest tasks needed to care for one another? I spent a large portion of the service realizing that Jesus' death has never been a cause for mourning in me. I always saw it as an action of perfect submission to God's will and the humility and love of which Jesus was capable. It was always just something that had to happen so that He could rise again. As the alter was stripped bare and we canted "Oh God, my God, why have you forsaken me" I realized that this WAS a death- an ugly, horrible, sad reason to mourn. When I left, I still could not have told you why, and it bothered me.

Then I had a dream. It wasn't a pretty dream but it helped me understand that Jesus' death was not just something that had to happen so that Easter could occur, but it was the murder of an innocent, holy man.

In my dream, two young men met a homeless but harmless man on the streets. He was near death but still alive. They lit him on fire and it killed him. (Luckily, this scene was not very graphic but rather figurative). Both men were imprisoned. One of the young men was not penitent and had no regret about what he had done. He did not value this man's life because as far as he knew it meant nothing to him. He quickly faded out of the dream. Most of the dream focused on a private conversation with te second man who confessed what he had done and how horrible he felt about his actions, how it was tearing him apart inside. The second man told me that he was following the first man's actions and deeply, deeply regretted killing the innocent man. I remember him wailing in agony at regret over what he had done. But in the end, it had been done.

Of course, it didn't take long before I woke up thinking "what in the...?" After a while I realized what the dream meant to me. It was a way for me to understand in a very personal way, why Jesus' death is so tragic. First, He was innocent, harmless. He did not deserve to die on the cross. There is tragedy in the injustice.

The second thing that makes His death, and not just his resurrection, something we need to remember and commemorate, I learned from the wailing of the second man in the dream. Jesus died because we are imperfect. Each of us played a part in His persecution. When we mourn his death, it is our own failings, our own inability to love completely, and our own collective role in his crucifixion that we must come to terms with. It is a horrible experience not only for Jesus but also for his persecutors.

That being said, I am ready for Easter. I want to celebrate my Lord, not mourn him. I want loud, happy music and celebrations with the "A word" abounding! I have never looked forward to Easter in such a way as I do this year. Here's to Sunday's sunrise and the end of the Lenten season!