Martha Truth Hale was born April 16th at 1:48pm.
She is 8.0lbs. and 20.75in long.
Aubri and Martha are doing well.
“For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work; at the works of your hands I sing for joy.” Psalm 92:4
Martha Truth Is Here
April 17th, 2015 by Aubri
40 Weeks And Waiting – At The Parsonage
April 15th, 2015 by Aubri
For any of you wondering, no, baby girl isn’t here yet. I’m 40 weeks now, due dates are rolling in. We have 3 of them as usual, the 14-16th, of April thankfully, not of March.
I’m happy to report that all is still going well with me and baby though I’m so ready to be done with this part.
Just Mercy
April 14th, 2015 by Aubri
Here by herself because she doesn’t get nearly enough blog time.
We are hoping to have this little Sugar’s baby sister home this week. I think she’s gonna like being the Big Sis. I was completely off about how old she would be when this new baby came. I’ve been thinking Mercy would be 16 months old. I was waaaaay wrong. She’s 17 months old now!
Bookish
April 10th, 2015 by Aubri
Do you love the sight of your baby reading as much as I do? Over the last couple months I often find Lily like this. Sitting somewhere with a book. She reads to herself, she reads to the other babies, it’s such a delight to watch.
I have a dear friend who I often described as “bookish.” Now as I see my own dear daughter with her books, I’m beginning to think that descriptor will be one of hers as well and I do love that.
I have never fancied myself a poet, or a writer for that matter. I do love poetry and took a poetry course in college where I wrote the following poem in honor of that bookish friend of mine.
And now Lily can share the honor of that dedication. So, a poem for Lily.
Bookish
In my hand, a new book, heavy
with anticipation.
Crisp, fresh and shining.
Pulled open to release its perfume,
the sweet incense I know only as
new book smell.
I listen to the applause
of page upon page upon page,
and again comes that new book smell.
Rectangle inviting me in.
Welcoming words on white.
Perfect corners ready to fold, to not be forgotten.
Slowly weathered, new book
becomes old friend, wrinkled, soft, known.
Its spine creased telling me where we’ve been.
Aged book flopping at my side.
Its dear scent gone, replaced with
the memories of a new book.
Keep your love of reading my sweet bookish girl!
