When I Was Pregnant With You

+I slept on an air mattress for approximately five months.
+I biked to school multiple times a week during that same approximate five months.
+I took three classes for my PhD: How Not To Talk About God; Levinas; and Ricouer and Memory.
+I read aloud to you from philosophy books and children's books.
+I sang and sang to you.
+I teared up when I first heard your heartbeat.
+I teared up when I first learned you were a girl. (The ultrasound technician kept saying, "So cute! So cute!")
+I threw up exactly six times.
+I felt nauseous many more times.
+I celebrated my 29th birthday and my 2 year anniversary.
+I spoke at five conferences in four states (California, Washington, Minnesota, and Utah). My presentations were on Habermas; Heavenly Mother; Levinas, Derrida, and sister missionaries; and Kierkegaard on (true) love.
+I took two road trips to Arizona, one to view the Grand Canyon for the first time, and another for Easter and sisterly reasons.
+I biked sixteen miles on the California coast, from Santa Barbara to a town whose name I can't remember.
+I flew six times (between LA and Seattle, New York and Minneapolis, and New York and Salt Lake).
+I took sewing lessons from a dear friend.
+I was asked to co-edit a book with a woman I greatly admire. I said yes.
+I started editing that book.
+I packed up all of my belongings and drove across the entire country, from Los Angeles to New York City, where I then unpacked all of my belongings.
+I hiked in Zions for the very first time.
+I hiked on the Appalachian Trail for the very first time.
+I attended Girl's Camp, where I got stung by a bee for the first time since I was five.
+I swam in two pools, one lazy river, one lake, and one ocean.
+I took two ferries.
+On Pioneer Day, I traded in my Utah driver's license for my new New York.
+I ate a Philly cheese steak in Philadelphia and delicious pizza in Pittsburgh.
+I toured Frank Loyd Wright's masterpiece, Fallingwater.
+I toured downtown Chicago, with my personal architectural tour guide.
+I spent a night in 11 states (California, Arizona, Washington, Minnesota, Utah, Nevada, Nebraska, Ohio, New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania).
+I drank 6+ boxes of raspberry leaf tea.
+I took a handful of vitamins most days.
+I watched my belly button turn from innie to outie.
+I taught my Relief Society sisters about our history of healing blessings, midwifery, and priestesshood.
+I taught my Relief Society sisters about Heavenly Mother and my Mormon feminist blogging.
+I was interviewed by two separate members of the press, in the same week.
+I biked at 37 weeks and at 39 weeks. Once to Prospect Park, and twice to my church building.
+I went camping at 38 weeks (at the same upstate locale as Girl's Camp).
+I met with one California OB, and two lovely New York midwives.
+I consumed an impressive amount of popsicles.
+More.

(This list is inspired by two dear friends who once moved near one another, and a tender little blog they created called "When I am Neighbors With You." Maybe I want to turn my own list into a tiny child's book for my babe and myself.)

It was this time last year.

These Provo pictures were taken exactly one year ago today, on the same morn that we said goodbye to Spencer's mama. When he was reminded of the anniversary the other day, his first words were, "It was only a year ago? It feels like forever."

Freezer full.

I don't know a single thing about making casseroles. But, I do know how to make soup. And now chili. And a few more things. As such, the following good eats are filling up my freezer:

+Butternut squash soup
+Split pea soup
+Lentil curry
+Chili
+Burrito filling
+Brown rice
+Wild rice
+Banana oatmeal cookies
+Vegan cupcakes
+Popsicles
+More

Photo proof:

These days

it is difficult for me to read children's books aloud without tearing up.

The most difficult for me of all are:

A Happy Accident

For reasons I can no longer recall (except for the sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with finishing laundry too late into the nighttime), our bed's bottom sheet ended up on top, and our top sheet on bottom. I have been hesitant to change it ever since, because as it turns out, it is quite cozy to sleep inside a fitted sheet. It feels akin to a lightweight sleeping bag.

Today someone asked me what my biggest hope is for my daughter, as well as my biggest fear.

What I didn't say, but wish I did, is this, "My biggest hope for my daughter is that she will feel loved and welcome, in her family and in the Church. My biggest fear is that she won't."

Last night I listened to an NPR podcast about how much babes learn in the womb.

I learned that when they are born, they cry in the accent of their mother's language.

My daughter's heartbeat

is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard–like ocean waves, or galloping horses, or both at the same time.

What's in a name?

It turns out that it feels like a tricky thing, to give a human child a name, that they will carry and wear throughout their entire life. There was a name that I felt very good about, early on, but of which I have tiny seeds of reservation.

The names I love:

Cora (Evelyn)
Sophie
Alma
Stella
Olive

4th of July Was

+Northfield, Minnesota.
+A striped shirt and red shoes.
+86 humid degrees.
+A walk downtown.
+And then another.
+A flea market, that I wished instead was a farmer's market–with produce and honey and homemade bread.
+Resting in the grass, when I became too tired to stand.
+An old woman offering me her seat.
+Me saying, "No thank you. I prefer the grass."
+A sip of water in a cooled store.
+A perfect pear and a smashed peach.
+One picnic with strangers.
+One picnic with friends.
+(Kindness at both, all of the same.)
+Two conversations with two separate librarians.
+Sloppy joes.
+Bratwurst.
+Watermelon.
+Rice pudding, from a kind woman who kissed my cheek and asked when my baby is due.
+Peach and blueberry pie.
+Missing Provo.
+Missing Spencer.
+Tiny fireflies creating the tiniest, most magical lights.
+Big fireworks creating bigger lights, and louder.
+(We found them by following the sound.)

December is darkest, in June there's the light.

And more light. And more.

My new (least) favorite thing

is maternity clothes shopping.

Any mums have any advice for me?

My new favorite thing

is having women I love place their hands gently on my stomach. I can't shake the feeling that it's sacred–like a blessing.

One of the best ones.

I am going to New York

and I am bringing everything I own.

20 Weeks

Today I am 20+1 weeks. (The photo was taken last Sunday). I am thrilled to be a smidgeon over halfway.

A revelation.

There is a little tiny girl growing inside of me, and I couldn't be happier about it. I still have not felt the baby babe move, so watching her on the screen was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Her little heart beat! Her little legs! Her little toes! Her waving arms! And here, her little profile:

S and I had the technician mark a card for us, so we could open it up together alone, over crepes. It worked out perfectly.

My two favorite boys on Radio Flyers.

It was the loveliest walk. And night.

Once upon a time we had family photos taken.

(Little did we know on that January day that there was already a little babe inside of me, that would soon expand my belly and our family.)

Sometimes someone you admire asks you to co-edit a book with them.

And even though you are overwhelmed, and pregnant, and moving across the country, you say, "Yes."

(Sometimes that person also appeared on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart in the last year.
And gave a beautiful address at the conference that you spoke on Heavenly Mother.)

If you are wondering if this is the hardest semester of my life,

the answer is, "Yes. Yes it is."