|A wiggly baby girl (that's why the profile pic is so blurry)|
Jan. 12, 2015
Of course, Husband is just thrilled and has been absolutely wonderful through everything, with the exception of the sudden proliferation of dad jokes. He says he's practicing. I say it needs to stop.
We're expecting on April Fool's Day, which, appropriately for a clergy person, is Holy Week this year. If you're not familiar, Holy Week is the week leading up to the celebration of Easter, and is hands down my favorite week of the year as we move through Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, the Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday. It's a time of intense reflection, and joy, and somehow being due that week is the most perfect and most terrible timing possible. I'm blessed to work for a wonderful (and flexible) priest and parish, so we're playing it by ear.
I promise not to turn Vicar of H Street into a mommy blog, although I'm sure becoming a mother will change me, because pregnancy already has. For one, I have new appreciation for anyone who lives with chronic pain, insomnia or nausea, and how hard it must be to actively participate in all the demands of living. I had no idea how much energy it takes to not feel healthy for an extended period of time -- for me, it's been difficult to think, be social, to function, and tend to my important relationships for months now, and I keenly feel those shortcomings. Even being on Facebook took more energy than I had, and honestly, I'm sure I've only experienced an extremely small piece of what many people live with, day in and day out, for years. Now I know just a little better, and hopefully this understanding will make me a better priest. I'm also reminded of how much control is an illusion, how embodied my self is, and how time rushes ahead and then stops still. In all, it's been a very bewildering seven months, and I'm sure my remaining eight to twelve weeks will hold more surprises in store. And then, you know, there'll be a baby, so there's that.
One other thing that I should mention -- because the apartment we were renting on H Street was a baby death trap, we decided it was time to move. Finding a two bedroom apartment suitable for a family and that allows dogs was like looking for a unicorn. And if we did find something, it was far too expensive for a priest and a civil servant. We discovered that buying a house in Ward 7 would be way more affordable than anything that would meet our needs near the H Street corridor, so, we did. More on that later, I'm sure. But for now, I'll still be blogging as the Vicar of H Street.
I'm hoping to blogging through what has been promised as my seventh and eighth month wind -- but I'll keep you all posted this time.