Four

The number four is on our microwave's digital screen right now. Sometimes I'm a wierdo and notice numbers everywhere and think they mean something. Maybe now is one of those times. That I'm a wierdo and/or that a number means something...Anyway, I was thinking, before I noticed the number four, that I was breathing deeper, from somewhere different than I'm usually breathing from lately. And it's not even bedtime yet. It is directly related to the fact that Berea was fussy 20 minutes ago after having been fed and nothing was seeming to de-fuss her. Which is usually the case. And previously around this time of night, Jesse and I would take turns attempting to bounce, sway and variously position her in whatever chair that did whatever thing that the last one didn't do until I'd end up feeding her more. Which I don't really mind, most of the time. But the truth is, it is hard being absolutely subject to the desire/need of another person. I really just wanted to clean the kitchen a little, to help Jesse, who's been doing it nightly for a while now, to help me. I can't tell you the joy these tiny little breaths I'm feeling against my tummy, that deeper place I'm breathing from, is bringing me. It's an amazing feeling being able to give peace to someone in anguish. Or maybe that's me--when I can't give the peace--anguishing. Anyway, Praise the Lord, and thank you Jesus, for answering our prayers (mine were less than hopeful) that Berea would have a good night and that Anderson would be healed...oh yeah, our family member #3 has had vomitosis since last night. And its just sad. Also really runny, horrible smelling poo that makes his bum and anything else it touches red. So so sad. But he seemed a little ornery after dinner, so we think he's healed. We fed him BRAT today (for non-mommys that's Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast--separately of course). He is very good at saying "ICE" meaning Rice. He also has a word for "Medicine" which sounds like plural Mommy: "Mommeeece". He's a big fan of the purple equate tylenol. And Berea weighed 8 pounds, 2 oz today! She was weighed at our WIC appointment. I am so pushing my luck being still this long--usually she needs to be moving while in the carrier to simulate her womb experience, I suppose.
I just wanted to record a day in our lives that seemed pretty chaotic and hard at first, but has turned out good, leaving me more hopeful than not. So whenever I'm whining about whatever next thing I'll be whining about, feel free to remind me of this day. AMEN. Or "Anem" as Anderson would say.