Unfortunately, the day has come when I am 29 weeks pregnant and writing at 4:00 am, unable to sleep due to my inability to stop drafting an email to our builder in my head. At 3:00 (after at least an hour of completing revisions in my mind), I quietly descended the ladder from the loft of our temporary home and turned on my computer. Even though I know that the email currently saved in my account will not be sent, it helped to write it. Seven months ago, it would have been discarded by the builder as authored by a 'sensitive woman.' Today, if sent, it would still no doubt be written-off, but now, in all likelihood, be attributed to the emotional swings of pregnancy.
Somehow, writing and saving such an email was not enough to calm my mind. Sleep will have to wait. And so, for the first time in more than two months, I post another blog entry.
Prior to the start of construction, we began to, jokingly and lovingly, refer to our house as "The Lot." The nickname signified a challenge that Rob and I took on a week before we were married and has given us a good laugh when we've needed one. Since our purchase of The Lot, we have experienced many adventures, have felt proud of each step in progress, and have never regretted the decision we made to buy the 1928 structure. We've kept the end result in sight and have looked forward to the completion of the home where our future children will grow up. We've worked together, supporting each other as if through a marathon or, more accurately, like a team in the Tough Mudder Competition that my brother-in-law, Joe, completed just a week or two back. The Tough Mudder advertises as "probably the toughest event on the planet." Yes, more accurate.
When I look through Joe's photos, I am, oddly enough, struck by the similarities in the challenges. I remember Rob's adventure under the house, plugging up the holes in the floors to save me from the cucarachas. He army-crawled through vines of poison ivy. This mud can be washed off within minutes, while Rob still bears the scars.
Yet other photos remind me of our pipes bursting and flooding our walls during that cold winter. We survived by showering at the Y or staying with friends through the freeze, barely gripping the rungs of sanity.
I envision Rob up in the scaffolding of the frame of the new house, trimming limbs from our trees and painting the sawed off stumps to protect them from oak wilt. I cringe a bit at this picture of Joe descending the wood planks, as I remember Rob teetering at the top of the cable pole or hopping across the open beams of new attic, planning the space for attic decking or wiring for speakers and Ethernet.
Over the two months since my last entry, my stamina has waned. I've entered my third trimester and I'm tired. My patience has been put to the test. A few weeks back I stepped to the side of the course, sat down in the mud, and gave up on a completion date that comes before our due date.
The new nickname we've been using for the home under construction on W Johanna Street is "The Half-Way House". This new name is said with more of a forced half-smile than a chuckle. We continue to try to have a good sense of humor and to pull through, but our attempts at a laugh are less effective. I've stopped driving by the house on my way home. I know there are no changes there to witness.
However, what I am blessed to be able to do now, is focus my attention on more significant changes.
Baby McKay is growing. He (I'm convinced it's a boy) is as active as Joe in the Tough Mudder. I wish I had an ultrasound machine at home so I could watch him all day long.
And today, the productive and fun-filled hours before tonight's fitful sleep were full of signs of good health, preparedness, and love. I ran 3 miles. Rob and I went shopping together and packed our bag for the hospital. Rob humored me, accompanying me to maternity clothing stores.
And at about 4:30pm, I headed to the home of a former student, located in a neighborhood funded by the Housing Authority of the City of Austin. There, Maria and her three girls had spent the day decorating for my baby shower.
The girls (1st, 3rd, and 7th grades) had hung both pink and blue balloons and crepe paper baby bottles from the ceiling. They'd wrapped gifts for the guests and many for Baby McKay.
They had organized at least a half dozen games that had us all laughing until our cheeks hurt. We saw how many clothespins we could hold in one hand,
how many plies of toilet paper it takes to encircle my growing tummy,
who can drink out of a baby bottle the fastest, and ate delicious chocolate cake that read "Welcome Future Baby!"
Baby McKay and I were surrounded by love and support.
My dear friend, Brynne, gave me picture books that reminded me of the priorities that trump construction deadlines and nursery decorations.
While I may not be sitting in a comfy rocker in a new house the first time I read "On the Night You Were Born" to my first child, I will surely know that on the night Baby McKay was born he or she was blessed with everything that one could need and more.
Eventually, we will finish this construction obstacle course. Rob and I will reach out our arms and yank each other up the last, steep, uphills to the end. We will smile and celebrate with friends and family.
This Christmas, my whole family will be in Austin for the birth of the first grandchild. My mother will stay to help with the baby and has even reserved the weeks prior to the due date in case we call to say, Baby McKay is coming early! Maria and her three girls have vowed to help come decorate the nursery when the house is done.
And so, now I'll go back to sleep with a glass-is-half-full mentality. "The Half-way House" is still a nickname that can bring us a smile. Half-way isn't half bad! We're closer than we were and are blessed with a baby on the way to remind us of all that we have.
Somehow, writing and saving such an email was not enough to calm my mind. Sleep will have to wait. And so, for the first time in more than two months, I post another blog entry.
Prior to the start of construction, we began to, jokingly and lovingly, refer to our house as "The Lot." The nickname signified a challenge that Rob and I took on a week before we were married and has given us a good laugh when we've needed one. Since our purchase of The Lot, we have experienced many adventures, have felt proud of each step in progress, and have never regretted the decision we made to buy the 1928 structure. We've kept the end result in sight and have looked forward to the completion of the home where our future children will grow up. We've worked together, supporting each other as if through a marathon or, more accurately, like a team in the Tough Mudder Competition that my brother-in-law, Joe, completed just a week or two back. The Tough Mudder advertises as "probably the toughest event on the planet." Yes, more accurate.
 |
| Photos taken from Joe's facebook page without his permission |
Clearly, both the feats of The Tough Mudder and home construction "test your all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie." Rob and I have certainly experienced the uphill battles. We have often felt as if for each foot we climb, we slide back down two. But over the four years we have been able to mark progress. And so we know that while the climb is steep and can feel like a scramble, being able to look at the view once we reach the top will be worthwhile.
I envision Rob up in the scaffolding of the frame of the new house, trimming limbs from our trees and painting the sawed off stumps to protect them from oak wilt. I cringe a bit at this picture of Joe descending the wood planks, as I remember Rob teetering at the top of the cable pole or hopping across the open beams of new attic, planning the space for attic decking or wiring for speakers and Ethernet.Over the two months since my last entry, my stamina has waned. I've entered my third trimester and I'm tired. My patience has been put to the test. A few weeks back I stepped to the side of the course, sat down in the mud, and gave up on a completion date that comes before our due date.
The new nickname we've been using for the home under construction on W Johanna Street is "The Half-Way House". This new name is said with more of a forced half-smile than a chuckle. We continue to try to have a good sense of humor and to pull through, but our attempts at a laugh are less effective. I've stopped driving by the house on my way home. I know there are no changes there to witness.
However, what I am blessed to be able to do now, is focus my attention on more significant changes.
And today, the productive and fun-filled hours before tonight's fitful sleep were full of signs of good health, preparedness, and love. I ran 3 miles. Rob and I went shopping together and packed our bag for the hospital. Rob humored me, accompanying me to maternity clothing stores.
And at about 4:30pm, I headed to the home of a former student, located in a neighborhood funded by the Housing Authority of the City of Austin. There, Maria and her three girls had spent the day decorating for my baby shower.
Teresa, another mother and now dear friend who I worked with when I was a Parent Support Specialist, arrived with a diaper cake.
While I may not be sitting in a comfy rocker in a new house the first time I read "On the Night You Were Born" to my first child, I will surely know that on the night Baby McKay was born he or she was blessed with everything that one could need and more.
Eventually, we will finish this construction obstacle course. Rob and I will reach out our arms and yank each other up the last, steep, uphills to the end. We will smile and celebrate with friends and family.
And so, now I'll go back to sleep with a glass-is-half-full mentality. "The Half-way House" is still a nickname that can bring us a smile. Half-way isn't half bad! We're closer than we were and are blessed with a baby on the way to remind us of all that we have.
