start, you must

Jake and I are still learning things about each other. What a relief. How exciting. And how honestly terrifying too- that we are married and have made a baby together, yet there are still surprising tidbits and intricate honesty to be unearthed. 

My physical goal for 2015 is to be able to do a handstand. I found a tutorial and have started practicing. We have a perfect portion of kitchen cabinet for stabilizing myself. My inability isn't linked so much to a lack of strength, as to a fear of being upside down and also of toppling over and hurting myself. I'm working on it. I'm gonna do it!

So, here's the discovery: Jake can handstand! He could even, at one point, walk on his hands. He would use this skill for pranks and general tomfoolery in college. My Jake? Can handstand? Who knew! I've been living with my dream handstand teacher for years without realizing it. 

TGIF

Oh, Friday- how I love thee.

Jake sends me phone shots like this a couple times a week. Alice doesn't sleep much with her sitters, so when Jake gets home she lights up and then falls fast asleep. She loves her man and I do to. And I can't wait for another weekend with these two.

Happy Friday! Tomorrow marks SIX MONTHS since Alice was born. More on that next week. For now, snuggling. 

sweets

A new little routine has formed, which I much prefer to the former routine of traffic, traffic and more traffic. Now, I leave work a few minutes after 5PM, talk to Linnie for the 10 or 15 minutes it takes door-to-door, and then arrive home to Jake holding Alice creatively in one of our carriers. Yesterday he had her facing out in the Moby wrap, smiling and kicking her legs, while he whipped up cinnamon buns and naan from scratch. He's a legitimate baker, this husband of mine, and the oven heats up our tiny abode so much that we haven't had the heat on in days.

We should need the heat, but all of Jake's work on the house, gutting and insulating room by room, combined with this avid baking streak, means that here we are on the last day of October and our living quarters still reside at a cozy 70 degrees much of the time without a drop of oil wasted. Praises be. The last day of October- can you believe it? Alice will be clad in a puppy suit this evening as we trick-or-treat with Katie and Artie around their little Salem neighborhood. I'm still racking my brain for a costume to match her. The only potential so far is rigging some paper cutouts of pointy ears to a headband, wearing my great aunt's faux fur coat, and calling myself a cat. We'll see. Maybe Jake will be a box of cat or dog treats. He is a treat, after all.

Yesterday was Adam, the brother-in-law of all brother-in-laws, birthday. When I met him he was a sweet-faced college student dating my sister. He is still rather sweet-faced- some things don't change- but now he has been a part of our family for over a decade. I have been witness to struggles and joys in his life with my dear sister, seen him grow as a teacher, a father, a man of faith, and appreciated the kind and compassionate way with which he approaches the world. Adam is the kind of nice guy with whom you can immediately feel at ease, who you don't hesitate to call and ask for a favor. And he's perfect for my sensitive-hearted, generous-in-spirit elder sis. I'm so grateful that he is part of our family and that I, in turn, am a part of the family he has made with my sister. Happy Birthday Adam. You're, truly, a wonderful guy.

And because Adam is the perpetual bearer of puns: Knock knock- Who's there?- Abby.- Abby, who?- Abby Birthday!

5 YEARS

Happy Anniversary to my man-friend, my husband, the daddy to our little girl, my favorite chef and the baker of my bread. You refuse to fold my laundry, but for that I can forgive you. I would struggle through much more with you, my love.

@ Halibut Point State Park in Rockport, MA

an ms update

Alice is asleep on my lap. Jake is nodding nearby. The dogs just enjoyed a brief walk in perfect jaunting weather- just cool enough to justify putting a sweet knit hat on the baby. Our lives feel calm and warm in this moment. And I feel grateful. These are the moments that this tumultuous year is hammering and needling into focus. These are the moments that are life-giving. Renewing. Restorative. Focus on these.

Jake and I have often said that we wish he didn't need to have monthly infusions. Yet, we have appreciated the check-in every four weeks- the opportunity to sit together for a couple hours, chat with kind nurses, and be subtly confronted with our lack of control over, well, everything. This has been our routine for three and a half years. So, though we've wanted and prayed for the infusions to come to an end, it seemed odd and unreal to leave Saint Elizabeth's yesterday after his last one. 

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. (Romans 8:26)

The infusions are over and we're onto a new treatment. Jake's MRI remains stable- he's due for another as soon as we can finagle the insurance coverage- but his blood work has suddenly shifted. In the next couple months he will remain at a high risk of a fatal brain infection revealed in his blood- a side effect of those monthly infusions. In the meantime we'll embark on the task of navigating the side effects of a new drug. Appointments, tests, phone calls and letters from insurance companies, financial aid applications, new nurses names to commit to memory and phone numbers to save, slips of paper with scrawled details I want to research when I have a chance. 

Bouncing a baby on my hip, standing in Jake's neurologist's office, tears in my eyes. 

We've come a distance from Jake's diagnosis four and a half years ago- dating, living in rented spaces, working together at the YMCA. We often laugh about one of those very first nurses telling us that our children would be beautiful and they would have Jake's eyes. I can feel the dim-lit hospital room, the curtain drawn around Jake's Jamaican hospital roommate, and see her taking Jake's vitals.

And now here we are, our blue-eyed baby girl asleep on my lap. The nurse was right- she is beautiful. And we will be okay. And we'll be better than okay if we can take these quiet moments and squeeze the glory out of them- drain them bone-dry of every renewing and restorative ounce. 

Jake's last infusion- 15 Sept 2014

I want to revel in the love I have for these people.

family portrait

We celebrated our third wedding anniversary last Thursday. It was our first date since the birth of our babe and Alice's first date with her Auntie. As can be expected, I was all sorts of anxious, self conscious, and second guessing. I was feeling exhausted and frantic as I got ready, fed Alice, and pumped, all seemingly simultaneously. But then, it was lovely. Since he wasn't lugging the carseat, Jake opened the car door for me. He told me I was beautiful and made me laugh the whole way to Duckworth's Bistro in Gloucester. Our server was kind and complimentary and wanted to see iPhone pictures of our new babe. At the end of the evening she sent our dessert to the table with a celebratory candle. And Alice and Auntie had a sweet evening together too. All in all- a hitch free evening. Who'd have thought?

It certainly feels like we've been married for more than three little years. So much has happened! We've added a puppy to our duo, bought an abode, adopted another pup, and then we fell in love with our little girl. And those are just the big things- the showstoppers. In between there have been long drives and hikes in the woods, home renovations and church membership, family illness and grad school, job changes and trips to the farmer's market. All the days that string into the life we have built together.

Then, we celebrated my cousin's wedding on Saturday. At one point I was feeding Alice while watching my niece and sister sway and tiptoe across the dance floor like interpretive dancing ballerinas. Later in the evening I ate wedding cake with Jake as my uncle, cousin and Alice swayed together to a slow song. Partying with family is my favorite kind of party.

My sister took these family portraits that night. Jake is wearing his wedding suit. Three big little years have flown by. 

I am endlessly grateful for how we have grown together and been challenged to be better people for one another and now for our daughter too. I want to continue growing together, moving together, shifting and sifting through together. This is only the beginning.

A song that Hannah sang and played at our wedding:

If I wasn't tan, I'd think it was all a dream.

There is a winter wonderland outside and more snow on its way in the next hour or so. Our home construction is still in progress- rolls of insulation in the living room, paint trays and assorted tools clutter the kitchen, the dining room boxed and stored in our bedroom, drop cloth hanging to keep construction dust relatively in its place. It is all how we left it, even down to the single dirty glass in the kitchen sink. Kind neighbors and family members shoveled our driveway while we were gone and our dogs had a go at living with an infant, staying with friends who have a 6 month old. The pile of junk mail is a bit more substantial than usual too. Otherwise though, the last week past as a dream. I woke up this morning, in dull winter daylight, chilled, turning on a space heater, and was surprised to see my sun-kissed face in the mirror. Evidence! Vitamin D and non-alcoholic piña coladas! It did happen!

Returning to Saint Martin was a thoroughly wonderful idea on Jake's part. It was familiar, while still exotic and utterly special. All the romance of our honeymoon, with the excitement of a whole new adventure.

Our first jaunt in the French West Indies was full of dreaming about married life- goals for our first year, gushing and smooching and starry eyed. We still had a bit of that twinkling imbued atmosphere about us this time, but with the added bonus of some actual marriage under our belts. Marriage is hard. It can be lonely and upending. With that in mind, we talked about new goals, different kinds of strivings we have for this commitment to each other. We celebrated our marriage, successes and failures and all, and we looked ahead, not just for the sake of the bébé coming in a couple months.

Being married has made us both better people. We know ourselves more honestly and love each other more deeply. I cannot imagine how becoming parents will terrify and amaze us- oh the things we have yet to learn!- but, I do know that the most wonderful consolation of no longer being pregnant, losing this intimate physical connection with our tiny one, will be to see our baby in Jake's arms. I am already overwhelmed with love at the imaging of it. 

soon to be sunkissed

I'm counting down the days until I'm wearing this sunhat and red bikini top again. My belly is going to look a little different than last time we were in Saint Martin and we'll be celebrating a coming baby, instead of recent nuptials. I have a feeling it'll be just as welcome a rest though, and maybe even more overwhelming a thing to be celebrating.

So soon! We'll be bearing these goofy grins again so soon! The baby is kicking with excitement!

the absurdity of it all

In the months before our wedding, Jake and I knew we wanted to go through with the whole ordeal, but we were also feeling something unforeseen: mourning. We were letting go of something good for something better. Jake mourned the loss of bachelor living. I mourned the loss of living alone and the independence of my own little space. But we both knew we were letting go for something better. The vulnerability and teamwork of the commitment we were making would mean a richer life, a life shared.

Again, I feel myself in this place of upending and mourning. As the baby kicks I am filled with awe, but in between kicks I am filled with anxiety. Jake and I are bonded together in a new, terrifying way. We are taking on a responsibility for which there is no real training. We are committing to do our best and love our most honestly, accepting that we will fail often at this endeavor. I am letting go of my body as I know it. Jake and I are opening to a third party the small sacred world of affection we occupy together. We are letting go of sleep and the ability to put off laundry for months at a time. We have made a baby. We will share our lives with this little being and in turn be made richer once again. We are letting go of something good for something altogether better.

How absurd.

And with those thoughts, I enter another year. A very big year indeed. Happy New Year.

MS Paint drawing of yours truly by my dear friend Sarah

thoughtful thoughts // 25

What has most characterized our relationship, since our very first date, has been laughter. Its a vital force, really. And I must say, when I spend half my commute dry heaving, suppressing the inclination to vomit, and swallowing unheard of amounts of saliva (did you know that excess saliva is a pregnancy symptom?), but then I get to work and all I want to do is eat is a piece of cheesecake- I simply must laugh. And then I text Jake.

love/joy // 6

In college, a friend and I committed to "keeping love and joy alive" by paying tribute to the ideals themselves. Whenever we got together we would "love/joy"- share one way we'd experienced love and one way we'd experienced joy that day. Even on the worst of days, we could still dig and find these things to be true: we are loved & we experience joy. Since Jake and I celebrated our anniversary this week, prepare yourself for an especially gushy post. 

love//
In the midst of an argument a few weeks ago, I dramatically blubbered "we don't know how to love each other!!" Jake, the patient man that he is, told me we do and we're learning. This week he gave me a sweet, sentimental anniversary card without a cartoon character or crass joke in sight. We are learning to love each other- through what cards we give, and other ways too- and Jake is a faster study than I am. He loves me and when I get out of my own way I feel that love every day. 

joy//

On Tuesday Jake surprised me with a visit at work. I work an hour from home. He walked in with a bouquet of gerbera daisies and a carton of keifer, and I melted. I told him I felt like we were dating again and he said "we are, we're just not dating to break up anymore." Needless to say, seeing those daisies in my office every day this week has been a continual joy-ignition. 

love/joy // 1-5

two years

Today is not the second anniversary of our commitment to each other. We made that decision way before the wedding day. On this day, two years ago, we celebrated our commitment with an intimate group who, as our community, committed to holding us to our promises. On that day we made public the quiet kinds of words not usually uttered in front of one's grandmother.

Happy Anniversary of a really great party. Happy Anniversary to my love[r]. And because we will never be able to say it enough- thank you to the family and friends who prayed and ate and danced with us that day, and showered us with love and gifts. You made it just the best day ever, and you continue to make our lives so very rich. 

on hives and love

It has been a stressful, hive-inducing week. Its no one's fault, really, and the week did start out beautifully, but by last night I was itching my red and bumpy hive body and crying over the chaos of our house being under construction (we're going on week four of the mayhem).

Sure, I'm sad that I will probably not wear the new knee length dress intended for my graduation on Sunday (a ankle length one will better hide the hive legs), and I'm so very done with the grit and crazy of our little abode, but I am trying to focus on the fact that the house project is ALMOST DONE and that graduation means I'm nearly a MASTER. Also, focusing on the wonder that is my loving, hard working, all-sorts-of-talented husband helps too. He's a good man.

As if you needed it, here's a little proof of his goodness- a photo of my precious nephew (who turned four last week...FOUR!) and my precious husband:

baby steps

Sometimes doing work on your little house means that when attempting to lug sheetrock through a tiny kitchen, the toaster is knocked off its shelf and into your face.

But you know what? Headache, swollen forehead and all, I was still just blissfully happy to wake up in the strong arms of my hardworking hubby this morning. No matter the state of our home, or the stress on our weak-nerved animals, we have all that matters in the world.

PS: The only thing those pictures have to do with anything is that they're downright adorable and make me happy. Artie can barely go five minutes in the same room with Dallas without saying "oh, she's so cuuuuute" or "auntie, I love your dog." That Dallas accepts his [sometimes rather forceful] expressions of admiration just makes me love our dog all the more too.

plenty of room

Grammy wrote us a letter. The last line reads:
Take care, + don't do anything I wouldn't do. That gives you plenty of room!
She's nearly 93 years old, a widow for almost 10 years, and still she has such life left in her. Its inspiring, to say the least.

Jake is planting seedlings in little starter pots right now. Cauliflower, broccoli, cucumbers, lettuce, peas, squash, tomatoes, okra, carrots, green onion, cucumbers...our GARDEN! I'm getting so excited to be working outside on our little patch of green, and for Jake to really have a sizable garden to be proud of again.

Its been a hard week. A full and busy week. And it has been a good week too. Jake is so blasted supportive, and my family could not be more awesome. Somedays I just spend my drive to work listening to old voicemails from my mom- I have nearly 2 years worth saved on my phone- and that puts me in the best possible mood.

Have a wonderful weekend. Do something you're passionate about; something that makes you feel alive. Life is too short to do otherwise. 

an update

J&K circa 2010

Just the other day I was sharing with family members the experience of finding out Jake has multiple sclerosis. It was surreal, as you can imagine, but the surreality was indulged by the fact that the diagnosing doctor had absolutely no bedside manner. After three days in the hospital, and no answers, I had to ask him what Jake had been treated for. He chuckled and replied, "oh! he has MS!" Just like that.

It seems that Lent will always remind me of that time- that crazy week leading up to Easter in 2010- when Jake was losing his ability to see and speak, and then, sitting at my desk at work, when he called me from an ambulance headed to Boston. On Good Friday Jake was officially diagnosed and released from the hospital. We made it to church for the after-service potluck.

Jake had his monthly treatment yesterday, and we recalled how I had slept in a reclining chair next to his hospital bed, and how he enjoyed ordering food off the cafeteria menu that week. My husband, always the humorist, commented that he wouldn't mind another week spent in a hospital gown. He really did like the food.

Despite 6 hours spent at the hospital yesterday, mostly waiting for one appointment or another, I'm often reminded of how very lucky we are. Waiting rooms are full of prime thinking space, and I felt thankful. Jake is a case the doctors and nurses love to see. I'm convinced Jake is their favorite patient. I'm certainly biased, but I also can't help but acknowledge that the world we enter for Jake's monthly treatment is not an easy one. Those nurses are saints, and Jake's neurologist treats folks who would beg and pray for Jake's symptoms. We don't know what manifestations of this disease are to come, but we know that, no matter what, we have much to be thankful for now. And, you know what? I bet if we are willing to look hard enough, we always will.

Also, the nurse gave us graham crackers and ginger ale as a snack during his infusion. SO MUCH TO BE THANKFUL FOR!

sick day

I don't feel well.
I'd even go as far to say:
"I'm sick."
Aches and pains. It hurts to swallow.
BUT my husband made miracle soup-
the most delicious chicken noodle soup to ever grace my lips-
and it demoted flu-like symptoms to those of a very bad cold.
I'm going to have leftovers today for lunch.
I think I'll be cured by morning.

Just one more reason to be thankful for the man I come home to.
Happy Tuesday.

love/joy // 3

love//
Jake's response to an "I love you" text yesterday afternoon. Though, I'm not sure if it's true- we both fell in love with each other rather quickly (his adorable hott bum, giant grin, and deep toned giggle got me on our first date).

joy//
Jake, again, because he's the best (and only challenged for that position by my sister), picked me up in Boston last night. On cue I got a text 20 minutes before the end of class: "I'm coming." YES. But then class went over by almost 15 minutes (10pm and still in class? yes-sir-ee). When I finally grabbed my bag and bolted for the door, I found the stream of texts in my phone saying my husband was outside, waiting patiently for me, and wanting to make me laugh too. I smiled like an idiot the entire elevator ride down to the first floor.

How have you experienced love and joy this week? Leave your love/joy in the comments- I'd love to read them. Or, better yet, feel free to link up and share the love/joy. Grab the button from the sidebar.

love/joy // 2

love/joy // 1

tonight's the night

We are already four weeks into this semester of grad school (I'm serious, slow down Time, you're getting to me). More incredible than the fact that four weeks have already gone by is the fact that I have not yet taken the train home. I've taken the train inbound, oh yes, but not outbound. I have not walked across downtown Boston to North Station by myself at 10:00pm. I have not waited in North Station, cold and alone, until my train boards at 10:40pm. I have not arrived on the North Shore nearing 11:30 at night, walked to my car and driven home down sleepy, dark streets. Nope, none of that.

Between my sister, my husband, and the one time I drove into the city, I have had a ride home every.night. I can't explain how wonderful it has been, and how thankful I am to have gotten that little more time with my husband at night, that little extra bit of sleep, and that steep decrease in potentially sketchy situation time (there's lot of me, alone, on dark streets in the train-home scenario). I've also had this wonderful time with my sister- riding in the car late at night, chatting and laughing at our days. It is SO MUCH BETTER than telling off cat-calling men in North Station, let me tell you.

Alas, tonight it's the train. It's not really an "alas" situation- my gosh, it's not as dramatic as I've described- but, I am thankful for the semester thus far, and how tangibly my sister and husband have cared for me. It's one more way that experience has proved to me it is better to depend on those closest you, than it is to attempt to go it alone. Independence is overrated. 

Happy Monday

This weekend we had a special visitor, a wedding, and even completed some projects around the house. Amidst the busy-ness, we also took moments to look at our vacation photos and videos from June (why does June feel as if it was a million years ago?). I love this video. Jake, in a euphoric, I-LOVE-THIS-VACATION moment, pulled suddenly off the coastal highway and ran down the ever gorgeous, sloping beach to the water. We were about to turn inland and meet the Redwood Forest, so this was a perfect last soaking in of Rt. 1.

Ahh, vacation. I think we're about due for another one. How many days until Christmas?