Thursday was Mette's first night sleeping in her new hip abduction brace.
Just as I climbed into bed myself, and before I could even settle down to begin properly fretting over things like: how the awkward brace might affect her sleep, and how desperately I’d miss her chubby legs and feet kicking into me when I snuggle her next to me at night, and how we'd manage nursing and getting her back to sleep once she did wake, I heard, coming through the monitor from the room where Summer sleeps, the unmistakeable sound of throwing up.
After changing bedding, and changing clothes, and washing off little hands, and a little face (and a little hair), we put her back in her crib – hoping for sleep, but what with her world being slightly shaken, illness, and, mostly, the loss of her precious “gah-gah”, she'd have none of it. (I know, I know: “gah-gah”?? Also, I'm “me-me”, and, sometimes, for short, simply, “meem”.)
I spent the next two hours lying on the floor next to her crib – reaching my hand through the slats to pat her and whisper the occasional “hush hush” (because she likes that line from Goodnight Moon, and it was fitting).
And Mette? She did marvelously. Nursing her snuggled next to me (as I'm fond of doing) was a challenge as she really can't be turned sideways at all in her brace, but we managed, and the night didn't seem to go off much differently than any of her nights have. (I felt strongly, in the morning, this was a direct blessing from prayers for us being heard. Thank you. Thank you.)
But it just goes to show that we always worry about the very wrong thing. There I was – nervous about Mette – when clearly, I should have been chewing my nails off in worry over the impending night-trouble ahead with Summer.
Haha. I'm just kidding. I'm becoming better and better and not worrying and fearing. It's been a huge part of my journey this past year. Learning about hope. Embracing the idea that no matter the darkness (or the waves we may be sinking in, or the storms threatening our small ships) Christ asks us, “wherefore didst thou doubt?” and “why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?”
I'm learning that there is always the hope of better and brighter things before us (and that fear is not trusting that that is possible). Mostly I am learning to echo the words of a quote a friend sent me from John S. Tanner concerning what we should say when tempted to fall into despair:
“No! I will not go there. I will not despair. For there is hope. There is hope because of Christ. However dark the night, the dawn will come.”
I'm sure my convictions of this truth will yet be tried severely enough, but, it is only through my most desperate trial that I ever came to know it at all, and, come what will: “I know in whom I have trusted.”
And now, a little more messing around from the new camera.
This Summer girl! She’s finally started looking old enough to actually be a big sister. (And she now has enough hair to occasionally wake from her naps looking slightly disheveled – which I find quite charming.)
And, while Jesse was at school, Anders took advantage of the protest-free opportunity to play with Jesse’s “build a straw”. (Jesse found out later. He was mad.)
And I don’t know what was going on here. Only it looked cute, and I love how Anders’ hair curls when it gets long.
Lastly, having a camera again is making me do crazy things. I bought a prism and took some pictures with it partially blocking the lens. (Whattt??) When it arrived, everyone was napping, so I promptly took a picture of the closest thing to me (my phone).
Then Daisy came home with the quetzal she made out of aluminum cans and I played with the prism a bit more. (Look, in one picture, I seem to have reflected the magnet board behind me into the picture. This is the kind of thing I know I must be careful with. I could get caught up in the fun and have loopy pictures for the rest of forever.)
Then I took a few shots of Goldie and Mette. They aren’t perfectly crisp, but they are just so dear.