July Naptime Notes
Making space, wild things, and baby names
At my thirty-six week OB appointment, a sonogram revealed a surprise: after weeks of being head-down and seemingly ready to be born, our baby boy had flipped right side up and was breech. My doctor wasn’t too concerned. There was still time, and baby had plenty of room to turn—though my squashed lungs and sore ribs would argue otherwise. Still, the conversation turned towards possible interventions that we’d discuss if needed more in-depth at the following appointment: an in-hospital procedure to flip him, and if he stayed stubborn, the potential of a scheduled c-section.
I came home and did what any modern American mother does—started googling. There’s no shortage of advice, stretches, and success stories online about turning breech babies. After hours of research, a few texts to good friends, and a good cry in the shower, I had a list of daily exercises ready to go and a chiropractic appointment on the books.
If there’s something I’ve learned in the past six years of parenting, it’s that I can’t make my kids do anything. But I can create an environment where they have freedom and space to choose the good. And being head-down for delivery? That would be very good for both baby and myself. So, I got to work—literally making space for him to turn around inside of me.
Nearly every source I read suggested spending times on my hands and knees might help. So that Friday evening, I grabbed my gardening shears and headed to the front yard. For over an hour, I crawled through the garden beds, weeding every dandelion and blade of grass. As I examined tomatoes and dahlias up close, I was struck by the hidden life happening beneath the surface: deep roots, nutrient-rich stems, leaves stretching towards the evening sun. I pulled out anything that wasn’t serving that growth, slowly restoring order to rows of beans and swiss chard.
Inside of me, there’s growth too. But it’s not tidy or predictable. It’s wild and holy and totally beyond my control.
Life lately has reminded me that perfect rows of order don’t exist in motherhood—especially not with a little one who is medically complex. I could talk about many specific circumstances over the past twelve months or so, but suffice it to say that not much this past year has gone according to (my) plan.
I wish I could say I surrendered these changes with ease, resting confidently in the knowledge that God is a good father who keeps all his promises. But that would be a lie. More often than not, I’m in prayer like a sleep-deprived toddler—kicking and screaming, insisting that things go my way.
And yet again and again, God invites me to trust him. He gives me freedom. He makes space. He reminds me—gently, persistently—that even when things don’t look the way I hoped, he’s still working all things to my good.
Praise God (and thanks to hours of stretching, intercession through Our Lady of Guadalupe, and the prayers of dear friends and many cloistered sisters), a week later a quick sonogram showed that baby boy had flipped back—head down and ready to be born. As a bonus, my garden is totally weed free. We’re ready to meet you, little one.
Summer has been sweet around the Langr house. I’ve soaked up some special one-on-one time with each of the kids before baby arrives—splash pads, thrift stores, baker dates. It’s been such a gift to slow down and catch up with each of them and see what makes each one light up.
Baby boy is due in the next few days so I’m sending this newsletter to you much earlier in the month than normal. However, my babies tend to take their time arriving. That said, I’m measuring big (and feeling big) so who knows? Babies come when babies come. And whenever he decides to arrive, it’ll be a beautiful birthday—one I plan to celebrate with hours of newborn baby snuggles and a cold Boulevard Wheat.
Read on for book recommendations, poetry, and the Father’s Day gift I rescued off the side of the road:
Songs and podcasts I’ve tuned into:
Books I’m loving lately:
Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry. My Well Read Mom book club wrapped up our last official book of the year, but we continue to read together throughout the summer. Last summer, many of us loved Hannah Coulter, so we decided to return to Ports William for another of Berry’s novels. I’m listening to this on audiobook and it is a total delight.
Soul Garden: A Catholic Mother’s Collective. I adore getting my copy of Soul Gardening: A Women’s Journal in the mail and drove to the library as fast I could when my copy of this new collective was ready for pick up. It’s a beautiful collection of thoughts, essays, and poems centered around themes such as ‘nurture’, ‘woman’, ‘pray,’ 'and ‘ponder’. I had to resist the urge to dog ear and underline every other line. This book would make a perfect gift for any mother, especially someone postpartum and looking for a quick read while the baby drifts off to encourage her for the night ahead. But truly any woman will find something in these pages, it’s a true delight.
Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. I discovered this book via Well Read Mom and have re-read it each summer. It’s such a beautiful reflection on marriage and motherhood, and it’s seashell-themed reflections make it the perfect beach read (or the perfect wish-I-was-at-the-beach-read). It’s simple, yet profound, and full of wisdom like this: “The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.”
Books the little Langrs adored this month:
Saints Come in All Shapes and Sizes by Patrick O'Hearn. Big or small, round or thin, quiet or loud, anyone can be a saint. This is such a fun, quick read that reminds all of my kids, with their variety of personalities, gifts, and challenges, that they are called to sainthood.
Good Night, Sister by Katherine Schwarzenegger. Big girl rooms, stuffed animal collections, and sister connections make this a top pick for both Maeve and Ada. My girls love Lucy Fleming’s illustrations!
A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Georghia Ellinas. Maeve and I are loving our Shakespeare Summer with Read Aloud Revival, and this retelling is hands down our favorite edition. The illustrations are fun and the retelling is perfect for a six year old level. I particularly loved how quotes from the play are sprinkled throughout!
An eclectic list of things that we’ve loved this month:
We’ve made these simple, protein-packed, delicious four ingredient creamy fruit popsicles so many times over the past month! // This mineral water is such a great summer treat // This poem made me dumb down my phone to just phone calls, text messages, and maps // A dear friend and I got together and prepped fruit and veggies into packets for smoothies this summer and I’m so excited to make them for quick snacks and meals once the baby is here //
What I’m looking forward to:
Naming our babies is one of my favorite parts of pregnancy. I love curating a long list of potential names, combing favorite books and websites for ideas. But we don’t decide what we’ll name our little ones until we meet them. I loved reading Cup of Jo this week and seeing this as one of Jo’s dad’s rules of life:
We had names floating around before you were born. Your name initially was Lucy Claire, did you know that? But you have to meet the kid first, I really believe that. You can put that on my gravestone: meet the kid.
We’re team meet-the-kid when it comes to names. We’ve got a list of top contenders (yes, I have a top favorite!) and when we meet this little guy, we’ll make a decision. The girls have their top names as well, but unfortunately their top pick (“John Amberson”) isn’t going to make the cut for Joseph and I 😂
A quote I’m pondering:
[The Lord] can give us in a single moment what we need. Thus the remainder of the day can continue, perhaps in great fatigue and laboriousnesses, but in peace. And when night comes, and retrospect shows that everything was patchwork and much which one had planned left undone, when so many things rouse shame and regret, then take all as it is, lay it in God’s hands, and offer it up to him. In this way we will be able to rest in him, actually rest, and begin the new day like a new life.
—Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
A poem to leave you with:
One of the first modern poems I memorized when we started our monthly poetry club was Robyn Hood by Kate Baer. I’m dusting it off as I get ready to enter into a fresh season of postpartum, this time in the summer where it’s so tempting to live up to a societal expectation to look like I never birthed a baby. Regardless of the place you find yourself in these warm summer months as you stare at your closet and get dressed in the morning, here is your encouragement to welcome yourself and your body.
Imagine if we took back our diets, our grand delusions, the time spent thinking about the curve of our form. Imagine if we took back every time we called attention to one or the other: her body, our body, the bad shape of things. Imagine the minutes that would stretch into hours. Day after day stolen back like a thief. Imagine the power of loose arms and assurance. The years welcomed home in a soft, cotton dress.
That’s all for this month! Please pray for a smooth and healthy delivery for our littlest—and know of my prayers for you, as well! I’ll be back in your inbox next month with a baby name reveal!
In His Sacred Heart,
Chloe
Beautiful. Congratulations and best wishes Chloe!
so glad baby is headed in the proper direction! been there....take care of yourself