Tablife busynesses

September is busy for the Tabs, you guys. We have a record number of weddings on our roster, so we've been spending our every weekday waking hour mesmerized by computer screens and our weekends beholding lots of pretty weddings. We shot an especially sweet one last Saturday. 

Sometimes we'll zone out of the computer glare long enough to realize that it's been a few days since we stepped outside and we need some air. 

I'm learning, slowly, that to step outside my front door while living in Chicago is to step into a swirl of controversial political activity. Whether it's our governor being thrown in jail or our mayor making the whole city angry or our cops getting convicted for murder or our teachers going on strike or the gangs killing each other, or, or...it just never ends. I keep waiting for a peaceful week in this city and I haven't seen one yet. The rhythm and the wind don't stop. I'm trying to get used to this part.

And yet, for all her faults and wounds, Chicago still dazzles me. She is adored by her cantankerous people. She's too pretty to break up with. 

So. We have the constant motion of our work and the restless energy of our city to keep up with, which is more than enough to think about...and then there's me and my condition. Me and my baby. Already changing our lives in every way. 

I finally started keeping a health journal so I can keep track of the varied array of symptoms and side effects I have every day, because the changes are so close and quick that Tim and I both live in a constant state of confusion over what's happening and how to fix me. Nausea, headaches, exhaustion together with insomnia, extreme hunger, sore joints, heartburn, forgetfulness, swollen blood vessels, frayed emotions. It's all there each day and, praise God, it's all normal. Nothing about it is predictable, and nothing is out of the ordinary at the same time. It is hard, but it is beautiful and good at the same time. Even as I sit here quietly right now, my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it and feel the drum beating throughout my whole body. It has more work to do than normal. The baby bounces and turns and kicks my belly visibly out in dramatic motions that shake my shirt. I pass the mirror on my way into the shower and am shocked to see bright blue lines tracing highways under my skin, expertly navigating an extra 50% of my normal blood supply through me and to the baby. It's all incredible, and I have never been more thankful for my health or positively sure that my body is fearfully and wonderfully made, and a divine creator's power alone is effortlessly building another body deep inside mine and this new person already has a soul and life purpose for the outside world. 

I'm sure of that, and I'm sure of how bad my feet hurt.

Tim has been an incredible source of strength for me. I am not carrying this baby alone, ever. The man is a saint. He rubs my feet and washes endless dishes and when I'm restlessly trying to get comfortable next to him at 4am he reaches his hand over and says: "you've had a hard night, babe." I never have to fight for justification.

And for goodness sake, he goes and gets me things. Is it not the most annoying thing in the world when someone asks you to go get them something? A glass of water from the kitchen? The laundry from the dryer (which is down 4 flights of steps in the basement of our building)? Dinner from the takeout place? A very specific piece of clothing from the basket of clean laundry that he washed and I have yet to fold? Can you just get that for me, babe? He always says yes, letting me save my energy for the important things. He's amazing.

And whenever I have the energy, I try really hard to be amazing back to him. I was domestic in the kitchen and productive in the office today. It felt really good. Life is good.