It's a Girl! Now What?

Monday, March 23, 2015

Bring on the tutus and bows!  It's another girl (yes, that makes THREE) for the Pardys.  As if my home wasn't covered in pink and purple enough already, this bouncing baby girl is bound to bring a whole new host of cotton candy colors with her when she arrives in August.


Three girls.

Let's process this, guys.  This is a lot of estrogen in one little household.  I think my husband is worried he might start growing breasts if he doesn't keep the windows open.

We are overjoyed to be welcoming another girl.  Plus, you can't beat the hand-me-down savings or the inevitable cuteness-overload photos that are bound to come from capturing the happenings of three little princesses (think of the Christmas photos! the Easter dresses! the delicious Halloween costumes that will make you gasp in awe!)  My heart can almost not handle the sweetness already.

The news of a third daughter didn't come without surprise, however.  Even those of you who put your votes in for the boy/girl poll opted to overwhelmingly anticipate it being a boy.  I join you in your shock!

As the ultrasound tech rubbed my belly with the jelly and revealed our wiggly baby (in all her black and white, other-worldly, glory) I held my husband's hand tight, not quite ready to hear the news.  The sweet one had her legs crossed politely, so it took a little while to jostle her into an immodest position.  Finally we got a clear shot, and I knew.

"Oh, that's a girl," I said definitively.

"Yes, it is!" confirmed the tech.

We smiled.  We sighed.  We stared.  It had not quite sunk in yet.

When I first got pregnant, I thought it would be a girl.  I know the statistics, and after two of the same sex babies, the odds of having the same again are quite high.  Still, both my siblings had beaten these odds by having two boys and then a girl, so I knew there was a shot for a Pardy boy in the making.

As the weeks went on, my pregnancy symptoms became drastically different than with my girls.  I had totally different cravings and aversions.  My nausea was terrible, and overall I felt much worse than with my girls.  It just felt like a whole new ballgame to me.  Surely, this had to mean it was a boy, right?  I couldn't rationalize any other simple explanation.  So, for the last several weeks, I grew quite keen on the idea of having a son.

As far as we know, this is our last baby we'll be having.  I'd be lying if I didn't say we hoped there would be a Pardy boy in the bloodline.  My husband is the last male Pardy, so it seemed natural to continue the most-fun-last-name-ever with this final child.  I began having visions of what it would be like, what our family would look like with a boy, and how I would connect differently as a mother to a son of my own.  It was weird, foreign, scary, and lovely.

And it made me wonder all the more who it was growing inside my bulging belly?

Every time I find out the gender of my babies, I'm thrown into an emotional paradox.  As the unknown turns into the known, one dream has to die in order for the other to transition into reality.  I'm thrilled for what it is.  I grieve for what it isn't.

I was not sad to find out I'm having a girl.  I was sad to find out I will not be having a boy.

We drove to go get lunch after our appointment.  I rambled on and on about the wonders of having another girl and how beautiful and magical it will be to have three daughters under one roof.  I had visions of hair-braiding slumber parties, giggling in dress-up clothes, and baking together in the kitchen like a homemade version of Little Women in real life.

I pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and burst into tears.  I had to take a moment.  I had to pause and grieve the vision of a son.  I had to let go of the idea that no tiny bow ties or hipster-mustache-onesies or matching-tuxedos-with-daddy would be in our future.  I had to allow myself to release the image of my girls creating a bond with a brother who would want to follow and protect them.

I had to say goodbye to this dream.  Deep sigh.  And I did.  And it felt great.  Well, it felt terrible and then great.  Relief is a beautiful thing.

It still took a while for the news to really reach my bones and sink into my heart (shopping for a pink dress helped!) As the reality of one dream became clearer, my tears dried up, and my heart became full as this new girl inside me began shaping the image of our family into what it was always meant to look like.

I hope you embrace my honesty for what it truly is - a human mother, grappling with the realities of life.  (Not to mention, a gut full of hormones that wreak havoc and any given time!)  I am not sad over what I've been given.  And I'm no longer sad over the dream that was lost.  This was a win/win situation, and I'm only grateful to God for the experience of pregnancy and the gift of another child.  There is no, "but..." There is no, "however..."  That's the truth.

And now?  Now, we celebrate!  In typical Pardy fashion, we wholeheartedly invite you to pray for our growing baby girl as we eagerly anticipate her August arrival with fanfare and thanksgiving!

Baby Girl Pardy #3 is on her way!  And I for one, can't wait to meet her.

Book Cover Reveal: For All Maternity

Monday, March 2, 2015

Several months ago I shared the exciting news that I wrote a book and it's getting published.  Well, it's been a surreal whirlwind since then.

I've been busy with editing, rewrites, and pinching myself to make sure this was all really happening.

Today I get to share the BOOK COVER!  I hope you love it, you share it, and you mark your calendars for MAY 1st when the book becomes available to buy!

For All Maternity
Coming May 1, 2015

When should I start a family?  Why do I want to become a mother?  How will my life change after having a baby?  It’s easy for questions like these to plague the mind of an already multi-tasking woman who just wants to shop for cute onesies.  

In For All Maternity, Emily Pardy encourages readers to ask the hard questions while humorously sharing her own tumultuous journey into motherhood.  From sitting awkwardly in marriage counseling, to learning how to breast-pump in the middle of the workday, this bumpy road to motherhood encounters lessons about body image, boundaries, and belief in a God who is more trustworthy than any baby manual around.  

Be sure and keep up with the blog to hear more info as the drop date approaches.  Thank you for sharing in this exciting moment with me!

Hello, Second Trimester!

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

This pregnancy has reached another milestone!  Baby Pardy #3 is officially 15 weeks old, and a good week into the second trimester.

You know what this means...GENDER PREDICTION TIME!  Cast your vote below and see if more people are thinking pink or blue for what's in this belly of mine.

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Very different than when I was pregnant with the girls.  I couldn't stand the smell of coffee with either of them, and this time around I indulge in one cup a day with total bliss.  I can also eat Mexican food without turning my stomach - something I truly missed when I had an aversion to it with both girls.

Carrying the same (as you can see).  Out in front, beach ball style, popping out early as ever before with plenty of questions regarding twins and miscalculated due dates.  (Sigh)

Hairy Legs:
Same - and yes, the amount of hair that grows on your legs is evidently an old wives predictor.

Same - breaking out same as ever, maybe slightly worse in the first trimester due to the oh-so-lovely hormone boost.

More nauseous in the first trimester than I was with the girls.  (Though the old wives tale says girls cause more nausea, so take that for what it's worth!)

So, there you have it.  Just a few more weeks until we find out and REVEAL if this baby is a boy or girl!  I'd love for you to vote and be part of the fun as we find out whether it's more tutus for us or if we'll be shopping for bow ties!  Hooray for Pardy baby #3!

Baby It's [Bitter] Cold Outside

Friday, February 20, 2015

We live in Nashville, TN.  "The South". A location known for its humidity in the summer and it's "Tender Tennessee Christmas" in the winter.

I've been duped.

This week was anything but tender to my thin, moved-here-from-California blood.  Granted, we don't live in New England where there are FEET of snow and ice piling up - I feel for them (no, I literally do, considering they must surely all be numb by now - I can NOT imagine).

We're going on our fifth "snow day" in a row here.  School has been canceled all week, I interned at the counseling center a few hours yesterday, but that's been it.  Otherwise, our world has consisted of adjusting the thermostat, layering sweatshirts, and cooking pantry creations I would otherwise deem inedible beyond these circumstances.

It's not been all bad.  Honestly, I LOVE a reason to be an introvert for a week.  I love to hunker down and hermit-it-out in front of Netflix and give myself permission to drink hot chocolate in bed while I start yet another episode of Parenthood (I'm new to the series, so no spoilers, please).

Meanwhile, my husband has braved the icy terrain of our yard with our two daughters, teaching them important life lessons like "don't lick the swing set" and "icicles are not for throwing".  Luckily, I had found two snowsuits at a consignment sale last year and I'm forever grateful I purchased them when I did, not knowing if they would ever get much use here.

As I handed my husband two giant cake pans to fashion into toddler-sleds, I became instantly overwhelmed by the thought that THIS is exactly what childhood memories are made of:  holed-up family time, getting creative and resourceful, resting in the comfort of home.  (Okay, maybe I've been watching too much Parenthood.)  Forced at-home days are the perfect remedy for the too-busy soul.

It's easy to get restless - not just on snow days, but in LIFE!  It's easy to think more about what I should be doing that what I get to be doing.  It's easy to look out the window and only see a stark world, dangerous and full of risks not worth taking.  Rest is necessary.  Down time and togetherness are essential.  And adventures never come without risks.  I too often overlook the importance of these things, and I'm grateful for the forced-homebodiness that was implemented into our family this week.

But, while it's been the coziest week ever, I'm also glad that spring is on the way.  (You are coming, aren't you spring?)

It's hard to find the balance of busy/productive/independent and rest/relaxation/together-time.  Ya feel me?  I love both, I need both, and I hope if this week has taught me anything it's to appreciate both for what they are and how they serve recursively in my life.  Too much of the one takes away from the other.

So, if you're climbing the walls ready to kick your kids out into the yard and actually looking forward to the next trip to the grocery store simply cause it means you'll get to leave the house - sit tight, hold on, and count your blessings like the tiny little snowflakes that they are - unique...beautiful...sometimes a mess.

Winter won't last forever.  We might as well make memories that will.
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