Make Room for Baby... Literally

More like a "During Picture" than a "Before Picture"
The room was olive green with Pottery Barn paisley bedding.
The NEW room color (blue pictured) is Bluestone by Eddie Bauer at Lowe's.

I can't wait to have a baby with this man.  Mostly, I just want a kid exactly like him.

Justin picking out lumber at Lowe's... BTW, did you know that 1x8s aren't 8 inches?
Yes.  We found that out the hard way.

Fly Army.  Support our Troops.  Vote for George W. Bush.  Listen to Bob Dylan.  That's my man.

Justin installing the "picture moulding" that he had fought me on for months.
I won.

The painting I had in my head from the time we found out we were having a boy.
I ended up so happy with it, and I'm not usually happy with my own work.

Two old photos Justin and I picked out.  His is a group of Army boys doing their daily chores.
Mine is a creepy looking toddler sitting on a very old propeller plane toy.

Details.  Scout's work paid off.  We tied the bumper on with a tweed-like trim I found at a local fabric shop.

Red linen crib bumper, cotton vintage airplane fabric for the sheet, and grosgrain ribbon print bedskirt.
All by Scout.
The red and stripe were purchased here in town.  The vintage airplane fabric is available at Warm Biscuit.

I love this vintage toy top.  I found it at Feather Your Nest (Lexington) for $22.

My old rocking chair as a child.  Dad painted it then and I didn't have the heart to change it.
Blanket from Cathorine Temple.  Boxing gloves were Justin's grandfather's.  I love them there. 

Vintage planes, toys and books line the picture moulding.
The print "The Little Aviator" was given to Justin by his mother, GG.
Townes's letters available at At West End.

The Moses Basket in the foreground is one of my most treasured gifts yet.
Faye Temple gave it to me at my shower.
I adore it and will carry him around in it until he is too big to fit.  Then, it will hold his toys.  LOVE.

Eleven of these line the longest wall under the moulding.  They are old Wings Cigarette Cards that used to
come in packs by Brown and Williamson in the 40s.  I found all 11 of them on Etsy for $10.
 I found the frames at Hobby Lobby for $4.99 and placed the burlap fabric behind it.

View into his room from the hallway.
I found the rocking chair in Auburn years ago for $25 and recovered it.
The pillow is an old French feedsack.  

A view from the top.

Until Townes gets here, this light fixture is really the star of the show.  Scout purchased it from a vendor at the Nashville Flea Market.  This month, he is featured in Country Living Magazine.

Again, it's all in the details.  Scout is so good.

I just can't get enough of this toy top.  Mid-photo is Justin's old wooden rattle.
Justin built the shelving around iron brackets I found in Auburn at Christmas.

Once again, the top.

I loved using this old vintage toy of Justin's as a bookend.
Believe it or not, there are still planes left to display.

A view of my barley twist furniture (side table) which adorns every bedside in my home, not to mention is the style of my kitchen table, two living room tables, a desk chair, and a plant stand.  Obsessed?  Maybe a little.  The lamp came from Homegoods and was a birthday present from me to Justin years ago.
Secretly, I just wanted it.

Justin's old Hunting and Fishing Game in the background.
Curtains by Scout.  Fabrics from local shops.  Burlap trim on valance is $0.99/yard at Hobby Lobby.
Burlap panels donated to me by Sherri Wolf, owner of Henry Brown.

My long-awaited and so undeserved crib.
Way out of our price range, I had given a similar photo to Dad (Duck) as a template for him to make a crib.
When they sold their house and decided to move, we looked elsewhere for a purchase.
On a wing and a prayer, I found this at Me and Mommy to Be in Knoxville and she sold me the floor model.
Still a stretch, we made up for the difference with two savings bonds my
late great-grandmother had given me the year I was born.
Thank you Duck.  And Aunt Effie.

I just want to take the time to thank our family for these blessings.  Without you, we wouldn't have been able to decorate this nursery and fill it with the things about which we've always dreamt.

Scout, for your hours upon hours of sewing, stitching and fittings.  For your patience with me to have the exact room I always wanted.  For the light and the rug that you surprised me with at Christmas.  And for the million times a day we talk about the "details."

Duck, thank you for making my dream crib a reality.  For loving us and advising us in all the ways you do.  And for the million times a day we talk "because you had me on your mind."

GG, thank you for your generous gift this fall that made so much of this room possible- the paint, shelving, changing table (not pictured), frames, etc.  We are so grateful to you for your role, no matter how far away that role is played.

And Pop, for the stroller (not pictured) which we bought on your dime- it is one of my favorite pieces I look forward to using.  It will last us for years.  We are always sad thinking of the "Pop Talk" that Townes may miss out on being seven hours away.  Now if you could just join the rest of the population and get a computer!  We could Skype.

Thank you, Family, for all that you do.  Mostly, it's not about the material things we've filled the room with in which to welcome him.  It's about the love you will help us fill that very same room with this March.  We are so grateful.

To Justin, who I rarely give a shout out to on my blog... You are the light of my life and I relish in the thoughts of welcoming this baby boy with you.  Our little family- you, me and Townes.  You will never know the times in a day that I think of you, the father of my child.  You will be a father in the biggest, greatest, finest sense of the word.  That word was meant for you.  And if you are half as good a father as you have been a husband, well, then your depth in that role is not even imaginable.  Thank you for my son.  I love him already.

Are you there Blog? It's Me, Meredith

Remember the book by Judy Blume? Couldn't resist with the title of this post. So fitting. I feel so negligent. I promise I'll be a better mother to my child than I have been to this site. But I'm going to make up for it now. You wait and see...

I haven't posted about much in the last 6 months, except for the news of our baby boy, who is still making his home in my tummy at almost 33 weeks. Like a mugshot, my profile says it all.

I spent about two months this fall immersed in political work again (I know, I know- I thought I was finished with that phase of my life). Apparently not. I bought a Mac (on a loan until I could sell a kidney), wrote it off, and worked for an old boss who took a chance on a greenhorn like me. I designed printed pieces for mail. LOVE.

I died over this work. I mean, I hate to say that because really the only ones dying for something are Troops and Jesus (and I'm not making a mockery of either- I can say that as a Christian, military wife), but I totally ate it up. I loved it. I loved sitting in my pajamas all morning, coming up with color combos, catchy bullet points, and dealing with candidates. Too bad November 4th put an end to my work. But even with the primary season around the corner, I couldn't commit after that. The last six weeks of this spring's primary happen to be the first six weeks of Townes's life. But I'll attempt to pick it back up again this summer. Yes, there are races to be won (in Kentucky, Virginia, Maryland, Mississippi and Louisiana). On to the next creative outlet...

Over Christmas my mother (Scout) taught me how to crochet. Incidentally, it was over Thanksgiving that she had just taught herself how to crochet. That's just how Scout rolls. Since then, she's woven 6 stars for the Christmas tree, 3 scarves (at least), and a baby blanket. Not to mention all the other work she's done to enhance my life- those projects posted soon in my next post, "Make Room for Baby... Literally."

Scout and I had a ball fostering our creative spirits. We came up with some great designs for Maternity Hospital Gowns (hey, a girl's got to look good for her visitors). They even button at the shoulders for easy nursing. They are available in a few weeks at the Lexington shop, Cradle Will Rock www.cradlewillrock.blogspot.com. Pretty soon, you'll also be able to purchase them in our Etsy Store. Along with some other items I've been creating for friends. For Alison, a dear friend who is less than 3 weeks behind me in her pregnancy... a door hanger with her son Woods's initials (SIDENOTE: having a child's name that ends in an "S" makes it difficult to feel grammatically correct. I tried doing a multiple plural "S" and writing Townes' but then someone on Facebook said, "Oh, his name is Towne." I digress....).

Later, I painted a 24x30 canvas to go over Townes's (see, again- an issue) crib. You'll see it all come together in my next post of his fabulous nursery- our most favorite room in the house. We keep going in there and sitting, like we can't wait for him to get here. Mostly, we just wish the rest of our house looked as good as our son's room. Oh well.

And last, a grouping of hostess mostess gifts- handpainted towels with artisan soap and these fabulous letterpress "Thank You" cards that my sister in law gave me. She's so great at gift-giving. I hope my Lexington shower hostesses think I am too. I thought about putting a tag on it that reads, "You can wash your hands however you want, but hand wash these towels cold." Funny? I'm not sure. I'll think about it.

Talk of the Townes

If you haven't already seen our video, on Youtube (search Small Frye for future reference), then you can see it here. I had so much fun putting it together and hearing everyone's reactions to our big reveal.

As you know now, IT'S A BOY!!! And as you can see in the video, we are thrilled. Beside ourselves. Almost so much that we feel spoiled at this point. Not only did we always picture ourselves as parents to a first-born boy, we are able to use the name that we've dreamed of using for over eight years.

Our first date is where it started. He picked me up in his grandfather's 1986 Chevy Celebrity Eurosport. It felt like we were riding around in a big living room. After purchasing it from his aunt for $1000, he had a CD player installed and I heard a familiar voice on the radio when I got in the car. "Who is this?" I asked. He dismissed me, saying, "Oh, you've never heard of him." I said, "Yes I have- this is Townes Van Zandt." Floored, he replied, "You know who Townes Van Zandt is?" And I said, "I only grew up listening to him." Thus began the realization of our shared taste in obscure music. And thus was the conversation that sparked our favorite boy name: Townes.

We always swore that would be the one. But given our luck so far at conceiving, not to mention that we'd need to be pregnant with a boy, I never thought we'd see the day that we would get to use it. I also had such a positive reaction from people over the years that I thought someone would surely steal it before we got to this point. We are so happy to introduce him to you in a few months. Townes Frye, after the great late singer of "To Live is to Fly." As for a middle name, well, that's still up in the air. :)

We're Having a Little..................

Watch this Video FIRST- The Explanation:

Watch this Video LAST- The Reveal:

Good things come to those who wait...

I guess I have spoiled the surprise. But before you read this, I urge you to scroll about 5 posts down to "We plan. God Laughs." It truly is the beginning of this crazy journey. I am 11 1/2 weeks pregnant!

I had been journaling these moments from the beginning. Actually, I journaled about what I didn't even know existed. I was totally at peace with God's plan for us. And that's when it happened. To follow up to the previous blog posts (which I am just now posting tonight with this one), we went back for a subsequent ultrasound at almost 9 weeks. Praise God. This baby is healthy, happy and moving around! Already? This ride is going to be crazy. I hope you'll join us on it.

One small Frye, please!

It has been one week since we saw the little heartbeat flicker on the screen. One week since the ultrasound tech turned up the sound and we heard the ever-so-longed-for sound of "duh dunk duh dunk duh dunk," beating in our ears. It has been one week since we figured out this really is it. We are finally, after 3 years, 4 months of trying, going to be parents.

Oh, what a feeling.

For this child I have prayed

I am 6 weeks pregnant. It's so early, I know. My subsequent blood test showed my hcg increasing at 511% every two days (way above average), ruling out an ectopic pregnancy. Praise God. Tomorrow I will get to see the little english pea-sized being that is growing inside of me. Lord willing, we will see (and maybe hear) a heartbeat flickering on the screen. For this child I have prayed. Oh, have I prayed.

Life keeps interrupting my story. I guess that's a bit of an understatement. But what I mean is that I keep trying to hammer out the way things began and I can't seem to finish my thoughts. I'll attempt to now, before tomorrow changes everything. And I mean everything.


Read back to "Twinkles in Our Eyes" http://fryeswiththat.blogspot.com/2009/08/twinkles-in-our-eyes.html if you've forgotten how it reallly all began. In that post, I wrote something a little controversial to read... especially to family and those to whom we're close. In November of 2008 I had just found out I was pregnant, and desperately trying to make God understand that it was my wish to keep my dying grandfather alive. Two days later he miraculously made it through his risky operation, and I miscarried that baby. He stayed in the hospital for over 50 days and finally lost his battle in the middle of January. We buried him on January 20, 2009 and the next day I found out I was pregnant a second time. Unfortunately, that pregnancy turned out to be ectopic, and we lost the baby at 7 weeks. Oddly, you would think there couldn't possibly be another coincidence about life imitating life, and about the true, weird, undeniable circle of life. But this new baby, this little english pea, is due on my grandfather's birthday.

How funny life is. How funny God is, I guess. The week that I found out this time, I was struggling. I was struggling with my purpose. Justin and I- who rarely are at odds- were in a bit of a rut over decisions about career, life, etc. And we were both stressed. It didn't help that I had lost a bit of self worth since not being able to identify with a career path or passion, and I was truly searching- at the expense of my emotions, and sometimes his, I'm afraid. I had broken down with him on several occasions. He was leaving on business for the week, and on Sunday I said, "When you get home at the end of the week, I will have found my purpose." That Thursday, he walked in the door and I sat him down on the couch with the news. My purpose. What an honor. I can't imagine a better way to identify than taking on the greatest job of all: Mom. And best of all, I might finally be able to make him a Dad.

Flash back to three years ago. It was June and Justin was just returning from a flight school and we would finally be able to really start a family. I felt it was the perfect time for us. And in my positivity I just knew with all my heart that a March baby was meant for me. And so I prayed. "Lord, give me this March baby. I'll be big and pregnant in all the cold months and can cover up with layers. I won't have to feel swollen and bloated while it's hot outside. And the baby will be born just in time to take long walks in the spring and take in the fresh air. The child won't be too old for his grade, or too young. Yes, a March baby is meant for me."

For this child I have prayed. Way before I knew it. Due end of March, 2011, three years after I prayed for it. God really does have a sense of humor. How could He not? Did you hear what I was saying to Him?

Yes, we WILL be having Fryes with that... at least one, anyway

Today is Wednesday, July 28, 2010. This is the journal I will publish on my blog about 6 weeks from now. I will be over 11 weeks pregnant when you read this.

On Thursday, July 15th, I had a positive pregnancy test. This isn't new for me. If you know much about us, it's not the getting pregnant we have trouble with. It's the staying pregnant. So naturally, I was cautiously excited. I called the doctor and being the high-risk patient that I am, she had me come in for immediate bloodwork. They say there's no such thing as "a little bit pregnant." O contraire. It was probably the first possible moment I could have known. I was barely on the chart. And my progesterone, of course, was lower than it should have been to sustain a pregnancy. So she put me back on the supplement I had been rebelling against in my "we're giving it up to God revelation." We spent the weekend praying. On Monday, I was tested again. They say your pregnancy hormone should double every 2 days. Mine had increased 500% every 2 days. My progesterone was now above average.

The next week was a blur. I noticed a few of the rumored pregnancy symptoms, and tried to take it easy. Having had an ectopic pregnancy, I was 10-25% more likely to have another. So we waited until this past Monday (one week later) to draw blood again. In the meantime, we prayed.

God plans. Now I'm the one who's laughing...

This is the first time I have had a home office. I turned the sitting area in our master bedroom into one so that I could do a little work from home for a good friend who runs a website. It has been nice to be at the house each day, playing housewife and lunching with friends. I get bored and so often I have tried to sit down and update my blog, but it never seems to happen.

Even when I had my most heartfelt topic on the tip of my tongue, I couldn't finish. But today I will. Actually, today I will begin.

At the end of May we left Justin's training in South Alabama and arrived back to Lexington with a new lease on life. He was back at work and I was trying to get settled in to this new routine, hoping the right job would come along, but not knocking down doors to find it. I suppose I'll consider doing that here soon. As I had begun to write in the previous (just now being published) post, I was struggling. I had come to a very simple conclusion in May, after our fourth failed attempt at getting pregnant (naturally, except for a progesterone supplement the last half of my cycle) since he arrived home from Iraq. I drove home from my college girlfriend's house in Jackson, Mississippi and cried until I got to Montgomery. I was going to give it up. Not give up. Just give it up. To Him.

I don't know how to explain my revelation any other way than I had come to the conclusion that I was placing too much emphasis on the physical/worldly things that God provides, rather than God himself. For instance, my internet research, ovulation predictor kits, and newfangled ideas for fertility had altogether replaced the sense of peace we are all supposed to have in Him- struggle or not. I truly don't believe God thinks there's a difference between thanking him for what we love and thanking him for the things we hate. I think we feel entitled to so much in this world that we forget what blessings are actually out there. And so I began to thank Him for my struggle. I know that sounds odd, like I was all of a sudden praying to him for infertility. But I gave up my needs and thanked Him for his will. Pure and simple.

While this may sound like reverse psychology on God, I can assure you He's far too all-knowing for that. I just threw my hands upward, and let go.

I know there's supposed to be an end to this story. But I can tell you now- this post is the very beginning. I have a story to tell and I am (almost) ready for you to hear it.

We Plan. God Laughs.

I know my title for this post might seem a little sacrilegious. But I half believe it. I have struggled with whether or not to put this information out on my blog. Today, I feel called to do so.

Since first opening up about our fertility struggles in this blog post http://fryeswiththat.blogspot.com/2009/08/twinkles-in-our-eyes.html (I choose to use the word fertility, because I like to think it's the fertility we're struggling with, not the infertility), I have received countless emails, comments, phone calls, notes, etc. I have been truly touched by the ability women feel to open up after long moments of silence. I have been inspired by so many of you and I just want you to know how hard I wish that we didn't have this thing in common, but that if we're fated to have it then I sure am glad you are here with me on this ride.

As you may know, our fertility struggle began three years and two months ago. That doesn't necessarily mean we've had every single month to give it a try- he was gone for almost a year so getting pregnant during that time would require some 'splainin- but it doesn't change the fact that we've been at this for a while. We've been at it longer than any of my close friends who are now on to their second babies now. So today I feel called to tell you my revelation.



********

..... That was me then. I never finished this post. I am "backposting," as today's date is actually July 28th, over a month after I started to tell you what happened. Read on to the next blog for the end of the story. Actually, it's more like the beginning.

House-keeeeeeeeping....

Talk about Writer's Block. Or maybe life just got in the way. It is April now and Justin has been home for over seven weeks. So much has happened in our little life together that I hesitate to try to cram it all in to one blog post. Life itself isn't quite back to normal, but our life never really was that predictable.

I will try to sum up the feelings we experienced in the very beginning of this reunion. But it's so hard. Sometimes I have to rely on what others have observed, rather than what I was experiencing. It was similar to my wedding day- the way everyone always warns you that you will be so overwhelmed you will remember nothing at all. I remember my girlfriend Jessica Ditto, who was so loyal and loving to be present for the welcome-home ceremony, saying that when he arrived, I had been too calm and collected for my otherwise neurotic personality. We were having this conversation after the family had gone home and after Justin and I had gotten back into our routine. We were standing in our kitchen when she said it. I explained to her that if I'm given the time to prepare my emotions then I know how to get them in check. Throw a wrench in a plan I had at the last minute and I can hardly function.

But I had the time to prepare for this one. 325 days to be exact. I was standing in the Armory, a cold and sterile building, far from the romantic airport setting in which I had imagined us reuniting for so long. But it was 40 degrees farenheit outside and no one, not even for the sake of romance, wanted to catch pneumonia. I was wearing a black dress that had replaced my original choice of a dress with vintage airplanes on it (Mom decided it wouldn't photograph well). My hair was rolled that morning, with a little bobby pin holding up one side. Red lipstick, red nails; I was going for the pinup look. I even found a pair of vintage-looking stockings with the black line down the back (Calypso, Lexington). If the setting were going to be this ugly, I wanted to do as much with it as I could.

The airplane landed on time and we anxiously awaited their arrival, on foot, through the cold doorway. Their commander entered first, followed by a few other guys and then Justin, who was toward the end. I stood out from the line of awaiting family and waited until I caught his eye. Then I walked calmly into his arms and we kissed, right there in front of everyone, and we cried. Then he said, "Want me to dip you?" And that was it. The crowd applauded. We had an audience. They were probably all thinking, "Rookies."

About six weeks before he got home I made the decision to leave my job as national sales manager for Henry Brown. It had been a long and thoughtfelt process to get to that point, but inevitably I felt an overwhelming need to be available, both emotionally and physically, to Justin when he returned. I had a little over a month to get ready for his arrival. I relished every second of it- the anxiousness, the drive, with the greatest goal in mind- to welcome him home safely and honorably without him having to worry about so much as a car wash.

One week after I had been home from work, Justin called and said we needed to make a decision... fast. The guard unit was offering him another "school." It was his choice whether or not to attend the six-week course, and it would be at Fort Rucker, where we had spent the first year of our marriage. I sat there wondering how he could even consider it, given that he was still weeks away from returning from an 11-month deployment. Then he said, "It starts mid-April. Wanna go with me?"

It just so happens that Fort Rucker is less than two hours from the beach and less than 3 hours from all of our family members. It didn't take me long to say yes. We've been here less than two weeks and I have already visited all our old haunts. I'm taking Pilates at the new gym on post, framing lessons from the Art Center, and going antiquing without buying anything since we are now a one-income family. Justin's class schedule is less than challenging. He gets home between 1 and 3 each day and we play frisbee, grill out and occasionally attend cookouts or "Wing Night." We spent our first weekend at Pop's in Auburn, having drinks on his little patio and attending the 280 Boogy in Waverly, AL. Last weekend we made the trek up to Mom and Dad's farm in Clay County where we were visited by friends, Damian Cuttie and Jessica Pate. Lance Miller put on a fine show at the Ashland Theater, despite the warnings of a Category 5 tornado. Sunday, we put the canoes in Crooked Creek and had a fine time with David Mitchell and his gang of hellraisers. In all honesty, we feel a little spoiled. Yes, spoiled. It just doesn't seem right for anyone to have this much fun.

I would like to think we are living our life like "rookies" now. I would like to think that as we celebrate our five-year anniversary next month, we are still a little "green." I hope that's the case anyway. Recently, Justin asked me, "When are we going to stop acting like newlyweds?" One morning last week, as he waited for his ride outside our little on-post efficiency apartment, he turned to me and said, "I love you so much. I'll always love you. You are my best friend." Then he kissed me and got in the car.

I know people feel sorry for us. I know they think we have to suffer so much angst over separation and distance as a military family. But when I sense a little pity from someone, I respond this way: We get to experience a reunion, a romance, a feeling that so few others get to feel. Those emotions make me more thankful for what we have than any year together could ever accomplish. It doesn't mean I love him more because he's been gone. It just means I love him a little harder when he's here.

P.S. A special thanks to my cousin Eva Vaughan, our photographer at the welcome-home ceremony. Please visit her website at www.evavaughan.com.

Open my arms and heart... Check.

A picture worth a thousand words, right? Nothing more to say about that now. Nothing needed.




Paint the front bedrom a neutral color, unlike the rest of the house... Check.
Childhood iron bed needs to be chartreuse to match Anthropologie bedding... Check.
Kitchen desk is too cluttered. Move to front bedroom where there is already a lot going on... Check.

Clean the baseboards. Check.
Mop the floors. Check.
Touch up wall paint. Check.
Wax eyebrows. Check.
Color hair. Check.
Tan. Check.
Sync Patty Griffin (all 7 albums) to Ipod. Check. (and listening now)
Invite the girls over for one last hoo-rah. Check.

Buy more expensive wine than normal, because of the name... Check. www.justinwine.com

Find and decorate a "Christmas in March" Tree... Check.
Wrap gifts... Check.

That's right. The burlap sacks that originally said "Speedy Cook'n"... now say "Peed Cook'n." Go ahead. Laugh.

Post the project without any shame or humiliation in my 32-hour project of recovering six kitchen chairs (in my mother's words, "It adds character.")... Check.

More to come later about the moment for which I've waited 45 1/2 weeks. Stay tuned...