25.7.14

i want to be a mom when i grow up


dear asher baby,

when was it that i knew i was your mother. i know i have always wanted to be a mother... like when i saw my own mother hold my baby sister so tight, or when my grade two teacher asked what i wanted to be when i grew up, and i confidently exclaimed, "a mom!"

but when did i know i was yours. that infamous moment my mommy friends and country songs all talk about where the heavens open and the angels proclaim, "you are this baby's mother, and he is your son!"

was it a couple nights ago, at 3am, when you would not fall asleep because you had a very lovely (yet terribly long…) story to tell of all the things you had forgotten to tell me of heaven?

or was it that moment a few weeks ago where i first opened my eyes in the morning and your baby bright blues were looking at me from your bassinet and suddenly you broke out into a full body grin, as if to say, "oh beautiful mommy! you're awake! i was waiting for you!"

or was it last month when we had tried everything everyone had suggested, even books and the internet failed us, and all i could do was gently bounce you while you screamed for all to hear how terribly upset you were, and i knew to whisper in your ear, "you're safe and loved."

maybe it was after you ate, milk dripping off your chin, with half-shut eyes and a drunken grin, as if to say, "Heavenly Father said the food was gonna be good, but i had no idea it would be THAT good…"

it may have been during those few short recovery weeks when i just didn't want to put you down. ever. and when everyone suggested i take a nap, i knew i would miss you too much to sleep…and we'd rock back and forth and at dawn listen to the owls hooting outside our window.

or maybe when the doctors told me to go home and sleep and they'll take care of you, and a fire deep inside burned so hot the nurses cheered when they saw it in my eyes, and i said, "i will not leave this baby! i am taking him home!"

or perhaps that first time you latched, as i've heard so many moms say before, when you were just a few minutes new, and it felt so perfectly right.

or even right before you first learned to nurse, when you looked right up at me without looking away, and you knew me.

but i knew i was your mother before you were born. before i first saw you with tears in my eyes. before that fateful night at Suessical the Musical. before all those doctor appointments and blood tests, alarms and finger pokes. and even before i first saw you as a blue smudge on an ultrasound.

it was that moment, before i saw the two lines appear on a pregnancy test. and i knew that everything was about to change. that you would be the hardest thing i'd ever have to work for. and i knew it would be the greatest, most challenging, most terrible and rewarding experience of my life. and that you were already there, waiting for me. and that you were perfect.

that's when i knew i was your mother. and i always will be.

love,
mom


{photos taken by my sister, chloe}

10.7.14

welcome to earth


baby boy christensen was born on march 27, 2014 at 7:45am, weighing a perfect 7lbs 14oz, 22 inches long, his head covered in dark wavy hair.



he came after approximately 5,568 finger blood tests (give or take one or two...), 5,568 alarms going off every hour for 232 days, an epic trip to india, a little bit of e.coli, 8 ultrasounds, 27 doctors appointments, 81 hours of waiting for said doctor's appointments, las vegas, los angeles, 4 acupuncture appointments, 2 million prayers (and equal number of tears), a family fast, a Suessical Musical nearly 3 hours away from the hospital, a stressful and somewhat speedy drive to said hospital (thanks dad), and another 2 million tears...


and then he was there. bright black eyes that looked right at me, claiming me.


and, of course, he didn't need me to tell him to pee all over the doctors...

{good aim, asher baby}

two days later we left the hospital, leaving behind us a wake of bruised egos and cheering nurses.



it took us a week to name him. because he just wasn't an August Jack, nor was he a Tristan. so we had to start our names list over again. and he wasn't a Hawksley. and definitely not the other five names that if he were to have a brother one day, they might be... he was an Asher. and his dad wanted to name him after his grandfather, a hero of his. and so he was Asher Baker Christensen. 

naturally.


and he is ours. and we are his. 





welcome to earth, asher. you have changed me forever.


love,
mom

{photos taken by chloe, darren roberts photography, and us)

9.7.14

you are my adventure...


i knew you were an adventure. but...

if you were to tell me that we were to move across the country twice, battle four different universities, cross oceans to find world war monuments and eat exquisite european food, cross those oceans again to breathe india's many auroma's (and catch india's infamous delhi belly...), visit hundreds of thrift shops and scour thousands of kijiji ads to find some of the most beautiful treasures, craft the most delicious meals, listen to the most incredible music, adopt the craziest, most loving puppy in existence, and then watch her turn into a zombie and miraculously come back to life, and then create someone so divine that i still catch my breath when he smiles to me every morning (i'm talking about you, asher baby) before our fifth anniversary...

i probably would not have believed you.

just sayin'

i love you more than emperor shah jahan loved mumtaz mahal.

love,
me

{part of our engagement shoot, taken by julie miller}

12.8.13

solar system power lines


more reasons why we love going to the cabin.

love,
r&y








mamiya 645 taken summer 2012

9.8.13

more than the stars over your head




flying into a bed of leaves.

it only works if you are under twelve years old.

trust me. i tried it.

love,
me




hasselblad taken fall 2012

7.8.13

fox trot


we were just learning how to use our hasselblad. we took a whole roll, and then realized we never removed the dark slide.

we drove back a half hour on our ten hour road trip to retake the pictures. we couldn't just leave those pictures behind us.

love,
r&y





hasselblad taken summer 2012

6.8.13

beach bums and water babies


as long as you have a life jacket or someone to hold you, you are safe.

love,
r&y








mamiya 645 & hasselblad taken summer 2012

5.8.13

moustache grills


i still wonder how we got them to sit still enough to take this picture. or not to fall off...

i see this truck as an old grandad with babes on his lap.

or eyebrows...

they grow up too quickly. 

love,
me

hasselblad taken summer 2012

4.8.13

the leaf of the wisteria through which the sun darts his rays. murasaki shikibu.


i found myself falling in love with the wisteria. we arrived in france just when the wisteria began to bloom. and they hung so delicately. they were soft purple, and the leaves just beginning to unfold.

it might have been a chilly start to a late spring in france, but it was the perfect time for new blossoms, and we saw many of them.

love,
me



mamiya 546 taken in spring 2012

3.8.13

conversations



some are story tellers. some are listeners.

then its your turn.

love,
r&y

mamiya 645 summer 2012

2.8.13

load capacity


projected grandkid total by end of summer is twenty.

this may or may not exceed grandkid capacity on the dock.

we shall see...

love,
r&y






mamiya 645 taken summer 2012