new year...

It's crazy to me that all of a sudden we're watching another year come to an end and yet a new one just begin. For some reason, this year especially has seemed to fly by faster that any of those before it. This has certainly been an eventful year filled with excitement, anticipation and joy, making up for years passed that have been wrought with sadness and heartache.

The most momentous event for us this year (and for 2014, I'm sure) is expecting our first baby. The process was a difficult and long one for us, although I say this with certain restraint as I know others have struggled far longer than we did to welcome their own precious little ones into this world. It was a process of learning, of growing, of patience, of encouragement, of faith and of companionship. When I felt discouraged, my husband was always there to build my hopes back up again and vice versa.

The irony - if you can call it that - of our exciting news came at the same time that Boston endured some of its darkest days; we found out I was pregnant just days after the Boston Marathon Bombing and just moments before the police caught the surviving bomber hiding out in Watertown. Amidst all the bloodshed, tears and horror, we were able to experience one of life's greatest joys. I can still remember coming home and taking the home pregnancy test; I wasn't feeling sick or tired or particularly 'pregnant' - I just knew I was late and figured I would take a test for grins and giggles. I did not at all expect to see those two solid pink lines emerge on the stick. Being the Type A person I am, I had a whole scheme planned on how I was going to reveal the news to my husband, none of which actually happened. I emerged from the bathroom with the stick, walked to where he sat on the couch avidly watching the news and just said, "So what do you think this means?" I'll never forget his face; shocked joy. And so began our journey of the last 9+ months.

 

The other joyful event that marks this year was my brother's wedding. He was the last of us three siblings to get married and it was an exciting time for all of us. We spent a lovely weekend up in Maine where they had planned their ceremony and reception, enjoying time together with family and friends, old and new. My pregnancy was still new, so we were still basking in that excitement as well and it was just a purely beautiful time for our family. The irony of this event was that it fell on my late father's birthday; although not intentional, I believe it was a significant way to tie in his memory to the occasion; when the dense fog that veiled the mountain suddenly cleared just minutes before their wedding ceremony was to begin, we all knew that he was making his presence known and his blessing heard.

This was also the last year of my 20's. Although it doesn't really feel any different being 30 instead of 29, I think this year more than any other has offered a significant shift in how I view myself; this year began yet another chapter in our lives and offered a new role for both my husband and myself - parents. It's amazing how quickly your thought processes can completely change and how suddenly everything becomes just a little more complicated, but in the most fantastic way. 

Certainly plenty of other events occurred throughout the year that served to shape us in one way or another. We did quite a bit of work on the house - projects my husband wanted to get done before the baby came along like adding a deck and patio to the  back of the house and replacing the tub in our main floor bathroom. My mother and I succeeded in planting a new perennial garden in the backyard all by ourselves, me pregnant and all. We finished our nursery and it looks exactly like I had envisioned it. My doting husband did an excellent job painting the gray and white stripes I'd been talking about for months and all the little decorative accents I'd collected along the way worked together perfectly to create the little nautical haven for our little sailor.

Now as I sit and reflect on this past year, I can only hope and pray that 2014 offers even more joy, excitement and self-reflection. I fully expect to learn things I never knew before as a woman, as a mother and as a wife and it is my prayer that I will live up to the role that God has dealt me.

focus...

After a weekend of unexplained emotional ups and downs, I'm taking a good friend's advice to put my thoughts into words in hopes that this will help calm my churning mind. The fact that I had to have a friend remind me to give this a try instead of thinking about it on my own shows just how distracted and overwhelmed I've been lately.

To defend myself, I'll start by reminding anyone who knows me that I'm now 39 weeks pregnant, so interpret that as I am a crazy woman with a rollercoaster of hormones raging through my veins. I no longer recognize my body even though everyone I know keeps telling me I'm carrying all in front. I've put on pudge where it wasn't before and I ache where I didn't before. My independence (which I so strongly relish) is severely constricted because of my physical inability to do certain things because they're either too much or I'm too exhausted or a little bit of both. I've never been one to easily admit that I can't do something or ask for help, so this last stage of my pregnancy has been a real test of my patience and humility.

Now consider the fact that today is December 22nd. We are 3 days away from Christmas. This season always has been my favorite time of year. I love the colors, I love the music, I love the emotion, I love the spirituality, I love the togetherness of family and friends...I love it all. My husband and I have had to play this year's Christmas festivities by ear pretty much since my due date is 2 days after Christmas, so one thing that seemed to make the most sense for us was to have our families come to us to limit the amount of traveling we had to do in my 'oversized' state. In theory, this sounded like a great idea and in reality it was a great idea as we just celebrated with my husband's family today and it was a heart-warming day of chatting, catching up, giving, receiving, eating and just enjoying each other's company. I was thinking earlier this evening how thankful I am that I married into such a loving and accepting family with whom I feel so comfortable and at home with.

All that said, however, I love to entertain. I love to have the perfect table scape, the most intricate and color-coordinatedd gift-wrapping, the most delicious treats, the cleanest home, etc. Trying to accomplish all of this while 9 months pregnant with my independent "I'll do it all myself" mentality did not bode well. Many evenings were spent lying on my back on the living room floor after hours of cleaning, baking, going up and down the basement stairs for wrapping paper and different ribbon because the ribbon I thought would work was too short or not quite the right fit for that paper. I would stubbornly dismiss my husband's warning that I was trying to do too much only to realize after I couldn't get up off the floor that maybe I was taking this all a little too far. The whole point of having our families up to our house was so that I could relax.... not so that I could make my own table runner at 9 o'clock on a Thursday night after spending 15 minutes trying to remember how to thread the bobbin on my sewing machine.

And amidst of all this were those raging hormones I mentioned earlier that have made me an emotional time bomb. We waited so long for this little miracle to happen and all of a sudden, 9 months have passed in the blink of an eye and we're literally finding the birth of our first child right around the corner. It's exciting, overwhelming and completely terrifying all at the same time. Within hours or days, we will have a new life that we will be responsible for - a life that we created together and that we will strive to raise to have the same values and ideals that we cherish now. We will face those life decisions that every parent makes on a daily basis and wonder if we're doing any of it right. But in the end, we will have our own little baby boy to snuggle and cuddle and swoon over.

And behind all of that, I can't help but be a little sad that my own father is not here to see his second grandchild come into the world; that I can't see that smile on his face and that twinkle in his eye. But I know he is watching - and has been - and will be.

So yesterday, after a morning of trying to finish preparing for our first Christmas family gathering, I sat on the couch with my husband, my back aching and my swollen belly cramping and my mind racing and suddenly I just burst into tears. It was all too much and I barely knew where to start to try to explain the tears streaming down my face. Thankfully, he's one of the most patient and rational people I know and he was able to help me put things into perspective, remember that I'm not superwoman and that no one expects me to be and that everything was going to be okay. That this baby was the most important thing right now and making one last batch of sugar cookies or perfectly wrapping that last Christmas gift could hardly compare to this exciting, momentous event that we are about to experience.

My thoughts suddenly go back to the message my cousin gave at our wedding ceremony, quoting a sign at a local state park that said "this was the most stupendous place on earth." When we faced each other and vowed to love each other for the rest of our lives, that was the most stupendous place on earth at that moment; we are about to experience a new most stupendous place on earth when we first lay eyes on our baby boy - our gift from God - and that is the most important thing for me to focus on.

missing Dad...

It's no secret that fall is my favorite season. I relish all the different parts of fall that are a feast for the senses - from the nip in the air that calls for warm, cozy sweaters and the vibrant blazes of color throughout the trees to the crisp, nutty smells of the falling leaves and the hearty, rich savory flavors that abound in this season: pumpkin spice, winter squash, hearty soups, etc.

But fall also now brings with it a sense of sorrow with the ever present reminder of my father's death. It's hard to believe that it has now been three years since what will remain to be one of the very worst days of my life. I can recall moments of the day as clear as if they were yesterday - from the mundane events of the morning leading up to that phonecall to the grief-stricken moments that ensued after.

I try not to dwell on the moments of that day, but they have impacted my life and who I am. I do, however, try to remember the good things about my father - the things that made him the joyful, caring, thoughtful, intelligent man he was. Sometimes I fear that I'm forgetting the details that defined him - what his voice sounded like, what his hugs felt like, what his smile looked like.

But as I was driving to Dunkin Donuts this morning to grab some coffee and bagels (because we literally have nothing to eat in the house - we'll have to get much better at that once this baby comes along) and I was thinking about my father, memories of things that I had all but forgotten popped back into my mind. I remembered riding on the back of the fat-wheeled dirt bike with Dad in Michigan; sitting on the couch with Dad and listening to Zac Brown Band's first-released cd from start to finish (he loved music he could tap his feet to); having Dad pick me up from a sleepover at a friend's house in the middle of the night when I wasn't feeling good.

I remember Dad's silly moments (which anyone could guess outnumber his other moments) from performing to Dueling Banjo's with Josh at one of the Knapper family reunions with synchronized flashlights up their noses, to telling silly (mostly inappropriate) jokes and making goofy faces.

I remember working with Dad on my days off or during the summer, learning the value of hard work and earning my pay, doing back-breaking work like picking up wheelbarrow-full loads of shingles from a roofing project, cleaning up the sawdust and other garbage that inevitably gets left behind from any contracting project, sanding down drywall and painting. It's these moments - silly and life-defining alike - that helped define me and shape me into the person I am today.

What brings new sadness now is that our son won't get to share these same types of both silly and impactful experiences with his grandfather; I won't get to see that twinkle in my father's eye at the sight of his newest grandson and see a relationship form between them like the one that I treasure with my own grandfather. This is what makes me sad and makes me question anew the reasons behind facts of life such as this; makes me question what God's ultimate plan is in life and why we have to lose the ones we love.

Thankfully, my father passed on the joy and thoughtfulness that he exhibited on a daily basis to us, his kids, and I am eager to pass on his legacy to our children. Although they won't know him by his embrace or his laugh or by holding his hand, they'll know him by the values and faith we share.

Anniversary

My husband and I decided to take a long weekend and escape to Portsmouth, NH to celebrate our 2-year wedding anniversary a weekend late.  This is our second time up here and each time we come I get this wonderful feeling of being both far from home and still in the comforts of New England.

Just two years doesn't seem very long, but we both talked over lunch at the Portsmouth Brewery how we couldn't remember a time of not being together. My 4 years spent in Clemson, SC - some of the most defining years of my life up to this point- seem like a different life completely. We've been together over four years total and the experiences we've shared during this time seem like decades of lessons wrapped up in just four brief years. From losing my father to welcoming my nephew into the world to getting married and now expecting our own son in just 3 months, to say our lives have been a whirlwind is an understatement.

And looking back, I can't imagine sharing this life with anyone else. We have our days where we disagree and we have our days where we never want to be apart. We share goals and dreams while still having our own desires and hopes that make us the individuals we are.

Entering this next phase in our lives, I have no doubts that my husband will make the transition from husband to father seamlessly and I can't wait to see that moment.

He is my best friend, my source of joy, encouragement, and comfort and I wouldn't change a thing about this beautiful life together.

Dwelling on baby...

It's been a whirlwind since I've last written; our lives have been completely changed by the news that we are expecting a baby. After many emotional months of trying, taking negative pregnancy tests and trying some more, we finally were blessed with the news that we'd been hoping and praying for.
I'm now 6 and 1/2 months pregnant and the it's hard to believe so much time has already passed and so little time is left to go before we take home our own little bundle of joy. Thankfully, our little guy hasn't given me too much trouble - no morning sickness and very little discomfort aside from a stint of migraines between my 1st and 2nd trimester.

It's an amazing and indescribable sensation to know that you are creating a living, breathing human being within your own body; it brings into perspective how beautifully and wonderfully made our bodies truly are. The fact that simple cells can multiply and divide to form a functioning human body with a pumping heart, beautiful big eyes, wriggling fingers and toes, etc, is astounding.

As days continue to fly by, I am more and more anxious to meet this little man who will forever change our lives. Millions of questions fly around my mind from minute to minute - What will he look like? Whose features will he have? What color will his hair and eyes be? Will he be tall like his parents? Will I be able to endure labor? Am I doing everything I should be now so he's healthy later? Will we be good parents? What if something- anything - goes wrong? When will I know I'm in labor? Will my water break in the middle of the grocery store, or at work, or at home....or at all?

Most of all I just can't wait for the snuggles, the special moments of just luxuriating in the joys of having a beautiful baby boy in our lives. I am overwhelmed already at the thought, and suddenly feel a new bond with my own mother now that I am soon to be a mother myself. I think about what she went through with her pregnancies for each of the three of us and how we grew up and how I wouldn't change a thing. My only wish for our little boy is that he have a good life...that he be happy and understand the true value of the important things in life...not so much material things, but the value and importance of relationships, of love and lessons, of working hard, and learning to embrace the small things in life and not take them for granted.

I am fully aware that this has already and will continue to change our lives for the better and I couldn't be more excited or more thankful for this beautiful blessing.

father

Thoughts of my father come in waves.... He is never far from my mind but sometimes he infiltrates my thoughts more than others. Tonight is one of those nights where I can't help but ruminate on him, on the presence he had and still has in my life, on the lessons he taught me, the frustrations he left behind for our family but mostly how much I miss him.

The body's sense of smell is one of the greatest links to memories, and this is so true to my father. Since as long as I can remember, my father smoked cigarettes and it was one of our biggest fears that we would see my father die a long and labored death from lung cancer or emphysema. Regardless, though, smoking was part of what made my father who he was and I can remember kissing him goodnight and smelling the remnants of smoke on his skin and somehow it was comforting... It was him; it was who he was and I didn't judge him for it. I miss that smell. I miss the feel of the bristle on his cheeks and the gruffness in his voice when he would say 'g'night, punkin'. I looked up to him in so many ways...and I miss him in many more.

The musty scent of oil mingled with sawdust makes me think of watching my father in his element in the confines of his shed, working on his own projects or something related to his work and just being in awe of this man who was so skilled, so determined, so passionate. He loved to tinker - on engines, on motors, on anything that required the skill of a mechanic to interpret design and translate it into a working thing. Looking back now, I realize much of what he did was out of desperation and need to provide for his family and I wonder what worries, fears and thoughts permeated these moments of joyful genius.

His presence... My father could command a room. He carried himself with such confidence, it was tangible. I was proud of my father. I was proud of his strength, his intelligence, his humor, his ability to be completely unphased by anything. He was joyful, pensive, thought-provoking, and above all loving in his own quiet, self-less way.

I think about that last day... that last morning that I ever saw him alive and there are so many things I would've done differently. It was October and I had asked him to take the air conditioner out of my bedroom window since it was starting to get cold and in my rush to get to work, I ran up to retrieve something from my room and didn't say goodbye.... Had I know what that day would bring, I would've hugged him until I had to be pried away and I would've told him how much I love him and what an important and irreplaceable spot he had in my life. I made him breakfast and sometimes I wonder if I had made something different, if I hadn't made anything at all, maybe he'd still be here. It is unnecessary guilt that likely comes with a death so sudden where there are no real answers. And yet, I can't help but wonder.

FUN.

It's amazing to me how music can inspire so many different thoughts in just a matter of a few moments. I sit here watching the Grammys - watching FUN. perform their song "Carry On" in front of a crowd that far exceeds the people filling the seats in that California auditorium, and those words somehow infiltrate every thing that is possibly on my mind in one fleeting moment.

"If you're lost and alone
Or you're sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on "

Like a photo book or a silent film, thoughts flash before my eyes of my past, my present, my future...my dreams, my regrets..everything. I think of my father, his many lessons that he taught me and the many, many things I wish I could still say to him, the conversations I wish I could still have with him, the embraces I want to give him. I think of the children Dan and I so desperately want and the struggles we are going through, our future as parents, our future as spouses.  I think of my dreams to be a published author, to pursue these dreams that have embedded themselves in the depths my heart since the awkward moments of childhood when I suddenly realized that I had a gift, to experience the scintillating nuances of success...of achieving.

I am not alone, and I'm not sinking like a stone, and yet I want to prove to the people around me that I am better than what I am...that I have so much more potential than what I do day in and day out...that I have the ability to amazing. Only those closest to me know my passion for words, for writing, for creating a story in a world that is far removed from my own and yet draws so many parallels.

Life is not without struggles, but I tire of the ones that populate my life on daily basis... I want to be free of these worries and I want the people I love the most to be free of worry too. I want to be rewarded with happiness; with joy; with ease; with understanding, wisdom, and contentment.