The last few weeks have been a golden blur. It’s been so nice to have Jake home on parental leave, spending time as a family of four and adjusting to the new routines.

Michael has embraced being a big brother with enthusiasm. He loves helping burp Baby Bea, and every time she cries he emphatically tells me she “needs more nurses”.

He recently learned about middle names, and enthusiastically calls Beatrice “Baby Margaret Marie”, leaving off her first name. We’re trying hard to correct him, given he has a cousin Margaret. Thankfully, his favorite moniker for her remains “Baby Bea!”

Adjusting to having a baby sister hasn’t been perfectly easy for him, but he’s been an absolute trooper with all the upheaval to his regular routine. He’s especially loved spending the extra time with Dad: in the garden, perusing Home Depot, playing with power tools, lots of outside time, and even learning to play tee ball with the help of a dear family friend!

Beatrice had her first pediatrician appointment, and is a rosy 9 pounds even, with a clean bill of health. It was slightly humorous (and vexing) to explain to receptionists over the phone that she was born at home: we still received concerned several follow up calls even after explaining multiple times that no, she wasn’t born at a hospital, and yes, we meant to have a home birth, and yes, she’s been under the daily/weekly care of a certified midwife who is trained in all newborn basic medical needs (weight gain, vitamin K shot, jaundice, etc) so no, we don’t need to rush to the nearest doctor to get her checked out and no, we aren’t being negligent.

Despite midwifery being a standard of care in many/most developed countries, you’d think I’d decided to give birth on an alien ship with the way they reacted.

We’ve been making slow progress on our garden (and by we, I mean Jake while I ask nicely and direct from the sidelines nursing a baby). We’ve laid down a pad of pea gravel so we can have our grill and patio furniture on something a bit more level and stable than our native grasses.

I’m looking forward to having meals there in the summer evenings: hopefully some homegrown dinners! My plants are growing well — broccoli, onions, arugula, strawberries, and tomatoes are all thriving, though my beans are struggling due to the wind and odd weather we’ve been having. I’m hoping to add peppers and cucumbers to the mix soon.

I’ve made more time for knitting, too: I knit my midwife a small lace table linen/doily as a thank you for all that she’s done. I couldn’t help but think the lace motif looked a bit like the “tree of life” in a placenta as I made it. I also chose a special yarn for it, as well: a color that matches her practice’s logo, a deep purple titled “sabiduria” or “wisdom”. It seemed especially fitting, given the ancient wisdom of her craft she practiced on me with such care.

I also made a pair of Calendula Pants for little Miss Beatrice. The pattern was so beautiful and simple that I want to make ten more of them!

I’ve been reading more (thanks middle of the night cluster feeding). I finished Tower of Dawn from the Throne of Glass series, and am now on the last book in the series, Kingdom of Ash. My TBR (to be read) list for 2024 is ever growing. If you’ve read anything good, especially in the realm of speculative fiction (sci-fi/fantasy) or Orthodox/Catholic theology, let me know! I want to focus on reading more — my goal is to read 50 books this year. Goodreads tells me I’m already 8 books behind on my goal, but I’ll catch up soon.

This postpartum has looked quite different for me. I’ve been moving much more slowly, listening to the wisdom of my midwife, leaning on my community for help, and being cautious with exertion and movement as my body heals from pregnancy and birth. I am so grateful for the resources I have that allow me to rest and recover, and this experience has only solidified my opinion that every mother deserves this time of rest and healing. But I’ve also had to work through feelings of intense guilt: I have these incredible resources that many do not have, so why is this still difficult? Why do I still struggle? Am I lazy or weaker because I have these resources and am using them?

For my dear Protestant and Catholic friends, this weekend is Easter, and this past Thursday was Maundy Thursday. I’ve seen some beautiful meditations on Jesus washing His disciples’ feet. It’s made me ponder the difficulty of accepting the service of another, particularly of people we love and honor. I must admit, I’ve felt like Peter for much of this postpartum period: embarrassed that people I respect and love dearly are helping me take care of basic, humble needs.

It’s hard and humbling to allow myself to be cared for and to rest. To ask for help with meals from my church community. To listen when my midwife says wait to do household chores or gardening or lifting my toddler for the health of my abs and pelvic floor. To confide in family and close friends when postpartum anxiety clouds my vision.

A common greeting in Orthodox Christianity is “Christ is in our midst!”, with the response, “He is and ever shall be!”. There are many beautiful nuances to this call and response, including the reminder that the Church is Christ’s Bride; Christ’s Body.

We are made for community. We encounter Christ in other people. By serving others, we serve Christ. And by resting and accepting help, we let Christ wash our feet; we accept Him in our midst.

In a society that idolizes isolation and productivity to the detriment of all else, it is an act of strength and rebellion to choose community and rest. And now, with no bleeding and more strength in my body and mind than I’ve had in over nine months: I understand its power a little bit better.