Willow Anne Falconer

Two and a half weeks ago, our lives, once again, changed forever. On April 8, 2010, at 10:30 p.m., Willow Anne Falconer was born. She is beautiful and perfect,awe-inspiring and miraculous. When the doctor placed her on my chest and announced that she was a girl, I just wanted to sob with gratitude. My heart felt as if it would explode with love for this little person that I did not yet know, but would as of that first moment of introduction, give anything for. Everyone around us disappeared, and there was just the two of us, soaking in the euphoria of love at first sight.
She is our fourth child, and with each one, I have wondered how my heart can possibly love another child as much as I do the one I already have. And, with each one, my heart effortlessly stretches to envelope this new little one.
We brought her home a few days later, and for two weeks enjoyed the loving support of my dad. His time and efforts spent with our three older kids, and making meals, and even doing dishes, helped to soften the shock of life with four children.
Yet, the past few weeks have, for me, been a bit of a blur.
From the wisps of fog that surround my brain, I can recall the memories of good friends bringing delicious meals and desiring a peak at the baby. I seem to remember that relentless newborn cry that wants to feed every hour or two instead of every three like they are supposed to. I remember my sweet husband rubbing my back as I drag my exhausted body from bed several times a night to feed our baby. My son's frantic voice as he yells, a moment too late "Mom, poo!, it's coming out!"
My daughter's persistent need to know why the baby can't play with her yet, and if the baby likes having her as a big sister. My darling Ocean, always trying to pull my shirt up when he hears the baby crying, is quickly learning what is needed to make her happy.
All of this, and much more, culminated in a good, long cry yesterday. I was actually proud of myself for making it that long. I have always liked the verse in Psalms that tells us that God keeps all of our tears in a bottle. I actually laughed as I imagined God fumbling for another bottle as I filled up bottle after bottle. I am so thankful that He doesn't fumble, and that He knew I was going to have a cry, and exactly how many tears I would shed. A long cry is cleansing, healthy, I have decided. For I definitely felt better after.
I also felt better after a talk with my sister. She had her fourth three months ago, so I knew if anyone could identify exactly with how I felt, it would be her.
I was right. She is wise, and sweet and loving. She told me exactly what I needed to hear.
II Corinthians 9:8 "AND GOD IS ABLE to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having ALL sufficiency in ALL things, may abound to every good work:"

I may not always feel able, or even capable, but my God is, and will give me sufficient grace for every situation!

He is Risen!

Four more days until my due day. I think that sitting around, waiting to go into labor is one of the most difficult things to go through. Well, maybe besides the labor itself, or, ok, I can think of a million more difficult things to go through.

Maybe the sitting around part is what is so frustrating. And, I am not really sitting around. I go to sleep every night, thinking, "this is it, this baby is coming tonight!" Then, I get a little panicked, thinking of a few more things I would like to get done before the baby comes.

I think that Blue is annoyed with me. I am thinking he is annoyed that I keep coming up with more projects to do, and he wouldn't feel so guilty about not always helping me if I would just sit on the couch and put my feet up. But, this "nesting" syndrome is uncontainable, I just can't sit for long.

The weather is warming up, spring is definitely around the corner. Talk swirls around me, about getting out, going on vacations, training for whatever race or adventure is coming up. And, believe me, living in Canmore, AB, there is always someone or many someones training for something. Considering how I get out of breath climbing my stairs, one can see how this can be a little discouraging for me.

Easter is tomorrow, and as I was busily preparing my Easter brunch for tomorrow, I began to think about my Lord and how He felt on this weekend. He too was waiting, knowing in advance that He was going to die a terribly painful death. For what? For who? For me, to give me life. I wonder if He was anxious, constantly thinking of more He needed to accomplish before that night. I wonder if He was bothered by the talk of others around Him. Tomorrow, we celebrate the fact that He is alive, the grave could not hold Him. Before the beginnings of this world, before I was conceived, He loved me, He planned to die for me so that I could live!

So, for this reason, and for the wonderful, imminent birth of our baby, I can only rejoice!