Our first war

It seems I've been swept away by the not only the thundering sound of rockets, but also by the power of motherhood these last four months and you haven't heard much from me here. That may be preferable as I have a hard time following a train of thought through to its natural end these days. I call it "milk head", and I am high, high, high on it! That said, the war here is too hard to talk about most days being this close to us, and so we are just trying to get through with open hearts and as little fear as we can muster.

Naz is growing literally before our very eyes. Each morning when I wake, he seems bigger than the day before. He is rolling over, sometimes, now, and often reaches out to touch my face while nursing. The sweetest moments are passing between us, and I cannot believe how much I love this motherhood gig. The best thing going, really.



As for our "other" lives, outside of parenthood (is there such a thing anymore?), Adam is in his surgery rotation now and comes home each day with tales of staples, colons outside of bodies, and other magical feats of medicine. I am busy, busy with COHI and loving what 2009 is already bringing us.

I am trying to find a way back to the lines I find myself crafting as I sit, watching him. Its my fave pastime, and that's a good thing as I do it so often. I love to watch his small hands pawing like a kitten on my chest when he nurses, breath slowing for us both, as we quiet ourselves for naps. I revel is his daily successes like finding his feet, reaching out for things he wants to know more about, his smile growing with each day just like his mind and body. I sometimes, in my weaker moments, wonder how many years are between me and a full night's sleep (what is that?), but do my best to remind myself that these moments are fleeting, never to return. That grounding thought is enough to bring me back to the moment, and breathe him in. His sweet small, bottomless eyes, wondrous giggle, and deep, slow sleeping breathes. I love this boy of mine, thank you for coming to join us.


This blog does not have a very hopeful title, I am afraid. But it is the reason that we spent a month+ up north seeking refuge from rockets hitting literally too close to home. Luckily, we had a place to go while Israel and Hamas battled it out in Southern Israel in the month of December-January. Our midwife and friend, Mindy, and her husband, Avner, so kindly opened their home to us and we gratefully accepted. Here are some super cute picures of these gentle people hanging out with baby Naz.


Don't feel to bad for us, though, as the daily quality of life greatly improved. Adam was able to do most of his surgery rotation at a hospital in Haifa and received one-on-one training most days. Here he is napping with Naz after one of his early morning shifts.

Naz and I enjoyed the greenery of the Galilee, and Shula, sadly for us, found a new home on the Moshav where Mindy and Avner live. A family asked us if they could have her, we thought long and hard about it, and in the end why would be take her to a studio apartment in Harlem when she could live in this dog's paradise with no fences???



Our friend Alex brought a woman who would soon become his fiancee, Alyssa, to visit. Alex and Alyssa, we can't wait to see you this fall for your wedding!


Election day was monumentous for us, even here. I found myself singing the National Anthem with a warm heart and wet eyes, tossing Naz into the air, and squealing, "Barak Obama is YOUR Presdent!!!!" The most American mean we could come up with was McDonald's and so we did, yes we did, and then we all promptly got sick. Worth every moment. It was a historic day I will never forget.





At the end of the day, loving my family like this is what gives me hope. That is what we all need right now: hope that a kinder day will prevail and this madness will stop. Until then, we are blessed beyond measure to have a safe, loving place to go.

Thank Mindy and Avner for letting us into your home.

Until next time.....

Adam, Sera, and Naz