Draining week

Couldn't be happier that Friday is here. This has been a draining week. Not a bad week, just draining. I'm working on a couple of nonprofit projects that are incredibly powerful. Let's just say that I've learned more about hope in the face of utter despair, how desire and motivation to be part of this world can move the speechless to find their own language, and how the will to live can overcome seemingly certain death.

When these projects are finished, I'll be sure to share them with you because the stories of the people I've spent time with this week have overwhelmed me emotionally. I've been blessed to have met some truly beautiful people. My charge now is to do their stories justice with my words. It's a tall order, but I feel as if they are speaking through me. My fingers on the keyboard are merely the instrument of their message.

In between these moments, I've been trying to stay on top of the many calls and e-mails about SPJ questions and potential work this week. There's been a flood of calls lately. Most are marketing and most are last-minute, urgent requests.

Baby watch is on
The other big news is that I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new nephew. My sister, Jen, is due next week and I'm her doula. And so every time my cell rings, I jump a mile thinking it's "the call." Talked to Jen today and she's coming out of her skin with this pregnancy. I was never a good at being pregnant. Some women love being pregnant and are radiant and beautiful.

I suffered aching back and joints, round face and swollen feet. I endured sleepless nights from about six months on and could get heartburn from a glass of water. Jen's had a similar experience this time. Only now she's nervous about things like induction, circumcision and managing with two little ones. All will be well, I tell her.

Her voice reminded me of how jolted I was by the jump from one to two kids. My mom had been staying with me, but had to return to Columbus a few days after I got home from the hospital with Patrick. I can't remember why now, but Danny wasn't home at the time she was leaving. And I sat there on my couch with my two little babies bawling my eyes out. "I don't think I can handle this," I sobbed to my mom. Probably because I was so pathetic, she also was in tears.

But the next day was a Monday. Danny went off to work and somehow or another Ryan and Patrick and I figured out a routine. Some days were good, some not so good. But I remember that October (1994) as being one of the most beautifully warm and sunny months. And that certainly brightened the post-partum mood.

Seems so long ago. For now I'm going to enjoy the weekend and see how my baby's (pictured above with me) day in first grade went. Who knows when I'll be called into the delivery room.

Spam commenting
Can't stand the spam commenting, so I've instituted word verification. Sorry for the inconvenience to those live humans who actually have something to say about my blog.